M6:763 — تا بروید عبرت و رحمت بدین / تا ببرد بیخ بغض و رشک و کین

Translation: So that admonition and mercy may blossom through faith So that the root of malice, envy, and rancor may be severed

Meaning: Rumi asserts that a profound, faith-informed understanding of existence cultivates within a person the lessons of life and compassion, thereby eradicating deep-seated grudges, envy, and hatred.

Mowlana, with his profound insight, teaches us how the contemplation of life and death can utterly transform our being and our world. Indeed, one of the greatest lessons of the Masnavi is to live with an acute awareness of impermanence and mortality. This particular couplet marks a crucial point, demonstrating how this awareness can cause the bush of admonition (ebrat) and compassion (rahmat) to grow within us, incinerating the very root of many ethical vices.

I contend that oblivion to death, coupled with the delusion of eternal life, is itself the genesis of much of the malice, envy, and rancor that darkens our hearts. We envy others, contend with them, and harbor grudges because we perceive ourselves as immortal, as if we will forever be participants in this earthly competition. But if we reflect on the present moment, understanding that every breath, every day, every night might be our last, these bitter feelings and obscurities vanish. As Mowlana himself states, «دم به دم در نزع و اندر مردنند» (they are dying and giving up their souls moment by moment).

This mystical perspective is not solely for contemplating one's own demise; it must extend to all those around us, including our kin. When we look upon our friends and relatives with the understanding that «این‌ها رفتنی‌اند» (they are transient), our hearts soften towards one another, reducing harshness and violence. This is the very mercy that blossoms. Concurrently, we learn lessons (ebrat) on how to spend our precious lives in love and cooperation, rather than in hostility. It is then that «بغض و رشک و کین» (malice, envy, and rancor), which act as chains binding our souls, are uprooted entirely.

Mowlana asserts that whatever is destined to come, one should regard it as already present: «کل آت آت، آن را نقد دان» (whatever is coming, consider it cash-in-hand). This means death should be regarded as an immediate reality, not a distant promise. Friends, too, should be seen «در نزع و اندر فقد دان» (in the state of dying and absence). This perspective is not one of despair, but rather of heightened awareness and the purification of the heart from the dross of worldly ambitions. If selfish motives and carnal desires obscure this true vision, one must cast them aside. And even if we lack this ability, we must acknowledge our impotence, and from that very impotence, draw another lesson: that a hidden hand prevents us from this insight, and we must direct our gaze towards that 'chain-binder' (zanjīr-nih).

Key takeaways

• Awareness of death withers the roots of moral vices such as malice, envy, and rancor.
• Oblivion to death leads one to perceive oneself as immortal, trapping the soul in fruitless worldly competitions.
• Viewing oneself and others as transient fosters compassion and draws hearts closer together.
• One must regard death not as a distant promise, but as an immediate reality, and friends as perpetually in a state of 'dying and absence.'
• Freedom from grudges requires casting aside worldly ambitions; if one lacks this ability, the cause of such impotence must be sought in the 'chain-binder.'
• This couplet emphasizes humanity's spiritual journey and the perpetual readiness for return to one's origin.