M6:2714 — صوفیی را گفت خواجهٔ سیم‌پاش / ای قدمهای ترا جانم فراش

Translation: A silver-scattering lord said to a Sufi: / "O one whose steps are a carpet for my soul, Do you want one dirham today, my king, / Or tomorrow, at noontime, three dirhams?" He said: "Yesterday, I was more content with half a dirham, / Than with one dirham today and a hundred dirhams tomorrow." Meaning: This couplet narrates a Sufi's preference for an immediate, smaller reward over a larger, delayed one, thereby underscoring the spiritual value of presence and the certainty of the present moment (naqd-i ḥāl) over the uncertainties of the future (nasiyeh).

This brief yet profound story, recounted by Mawlānā, serves as a fundamental exposition of one of the most crucial concepts in Sufi mystical journey: being an "ibn al-waqt" (son of the moment). The silver-scattering lord (khwājeh-ye sīm-pāsh) asks the Sufi: is one dirham today better, or three dirhams tomorrow? The Sufi's surprising reply: "Yesterday, half a dirham was more pleasing to me than one dirham today or a hundred tomorrow." Ostensibly, this echoes the proverb, "A present slap is better than future halvah"; credit, however large its promise, pales before cash, for tomorrow neither the lord, nor the Sufi, nor the gold may be. This uncertainty about the future compels the mystic to embrace only the "present moment" (ḥāl).

Mawlānā, however, elevates this concept beyond mere economic prudence. In its lower sense, being an ibn al-waqt is synonymous with "presence of heart" (ḥuḍūr-i qalb) or "mindfulness," a concept increasingly emphasized in contemporary thought. It means to be entirely immersed in whatever one is doing: when praying, only pray; when washing dishes, only wash dishes. Neither the past nor the future should distract you. This is to seize the reins of time, rather than allowing mental storms to carry you in every direction.

But the higher meaning of ibn al-waqt is to transcend time, to reach the state of timelessness (lā-zamān). God is "swift in reckoning" (sarīʿ al-ḥisāb), not in the temporal sense of speed, but in the timeless, instantaneous nature of divine action: "Our command is but one, like the twinkling of an eye." Drawing near to God means likening oneself to His essence, and one way to do so is to escape the confines of time and become timeless. Concepts such as "preceding" (sābiq) and "succeeding" (lāḥiq), "before" and "after," belong to our "partial intellect" (ʿaql-i juzvī) and "animal soul" (rūḥ-i ḥayvānī). The "universal intellect" (ʿaql-i kullī) and the human soul, however, are free from such constraints. Mawlānā considers these temporal "customs" (rusūm) to be within the domain of the partial intellect, and the true Sufi transcends this sphere to flow in the "river of timelessness" (nahr-i bī-zamān), not in the "river of time" (dahr-i zamānī) with its every morning and evening.

Mawlānā then elevates this dialogue between the lord and the Sufi to a higher plane: a conversation between the divine Lover and Beloved. The Sufi proclaims: "Especially that slap which comes from Your hand, / For my nape and its slap are intoxicated by You." This means that if this immediacy of presence (naqd-i ḥāl), this unmediated divine presence, even comes as a "slap" from the Beloved's hand, it is accepted with utmost joy. The bitterness of this slap, because it comes from the Friend's hand, turns sweet: "Others find bitter the wine of love's injustice, / But we take it from the hand of the Friend, and it turns to sugar." This fearless yearning for the Beloved's immediate presence, even if accompanied by hardship, signifies a station of love that transcends both gratitude and complaint, for in that station, distance and proximity, bitterness and sweetness, all vanish in the "intoxication" of reunion.

In contrast to Hafez, who says: "Since my wayward heart went into the chains of her locks, / From that long journey, it seeks not to return to its homeland," having found its "homeland" in the Beloved's tresses, Mawlānā's Sufi seeks return to the true "origin" (aṣl) and "homeland." This couplet and its exposition emphasize that we are in "exile" (ghurbat) in this world, and a traveler must eventually reach their destination. Our body, like a mouse, ties the soul—which wishes to revel in the ocean of the spiritual realm—to the earth with a string. Naqd-i ḥāl is the opportunity to sever this string and let the soul soar.

Key takeaways

• A true Sufi is an "ibn al-waqt" (son of the moment), living entirely in the present, free from attachments to the past or worries about the future.
• Living in the present implies both "presence of heart" (ḥuḍūr-i qalb) in every action and attaining the state of "timelessness" (lā-zamān), thereby resembling God's eternal nature.
• Temporal concepts (past, present, future) belong to the partial intellect (ʿaql-i juzvī) and animal soul; the mystic transcends these constraints.
• The Beloved's immediate presence (naqd-i ḥāl), even if it manifests as hardship or a "slap," is sweeter to the lover than any distant promise or credit (nasiyeh).
• This narrative reminds us of humanity's "exile" (ghurbat) in this world and the necessity of returning to our true "origin" (aṣl) and homeland; the body is a rope pulling the soul back to earth.