M6:215 — این کژاوه گه شود این سو گران / آن کژاوه گه شود آن سو کشان

Translation: This palanquin sometimes becomes heavy on this side, That palanquin sometimes gets pulled towards that side. Meaning: This verse captures Rumi's internal struggle and vacillation concerning the profound question of divine determinism (jabr) versus human free will (ikhtiyār), likening existence to a palanquin swaying or being pulled in different directions.

This verse from the sixth book of the Mathnawi serves as a profound testament to Rumi's intellectual and spiritual wrestling with one of philosophy and theology's most ancient and intractable problems: divine determinism (jabr) and human free will (ikhtiyār). As I have often elucidated, Rumi did not adopt a rigid, singular stance on this matter; he dwelled in its midst, neither a complete determinist nor an absolute proponent of free will. This particular verse, by depicting existence as a palanquin (kajāve) that sometimes 'grows heavy' on one side and sometimes 'gets pulled' to the other, vividly illustrates this internal oscillation and the inherent ambiguity of the human condition.

Rumi views jabr not merely as a limiting force, but as 'wings and feathers' (par o bāl)—a power or instrument bestowed upon us by God. The crucial point, however, is that this 'power' is neutral in itself; it is merely a tool, capable of serving dual functions. Rumi articulates this paradox beautifully:

jabr is both the prison and the bond of the lazy; Know this جبر as the water of the Nile.

On one hand, for the indolent (kāhelān), jabr becomes an excuse for inaction and a relinquishing of responsibility. They rationalize, 'Since it is fate, what agency do we possess? Let whatever is destined occur.' This perspective, in Rumi's view, creates a 'prison and bond' that stifles growth and initiative. Yet, for the perfected ones (kāmelān), jabr transforms into the very 'wings' that enable their ascent. These perfected beings, acknowledging the truth that every cause has an inevitable effect and all actions ultimately revert to God (theistic monism of acts, tawḥīd afʿālī), engage diligently in righteous deeds. They understand that this path, too, is decreed, and will yield noble fruits. They utilize this divine power for virtuous ends.

To illuminate this inherent contradiction, Rumi employs the analogy of the Nile's water during Moses' time, which appeared as clear water to his followers but turned into thick blood for Pharaoh's people. This parable strikingly demonstrates how a single, fundamental reality—here, jabr—can be perceived and experienced in utterly disparate and even opposing ways, depending on one's inner state and faith. Jabr is an enabler for the faithful, and a source of loss for the faithless (gabrān). Rumi concludes his argument with the evocative image of 'falcons' (bāzān) and 'ravens' (zāghān):

The wings of falcons carry them to the Sultan; The wings of ravens carry them to the graveyard.

The tools and powers bestowed upon us by God—our intellect, senses, physical faculties—can either guide us towards the Divine and beauty (the 'Sultan') or drag us into decay and corruption (the 'graveyard'). The outcome hinges entirely on how we choose to employ these divine gifts. This verse, therefore, ultimately conveys that even within the framework of determinism, the choice of direction rests with us; it is a profound testament to the paradox of freedom within fate.

Key takeaways

• Rumi held an oscillating stance on divine determinism (jabr) and free will (ikhtiyār), and this verse reflects that profound bewilderment.
• Determinism is presented as an instrument or 'wings,' capable of either fostering indolence or enabling spiritual flight.
• The perception and experience of jabr depend entirely on one's inner state and faith, akin to the Nile water parable.
• God-given faculties (intellect, senses) can lead to either perfection or ruin, exemplified by the falcons and ravens.
• The verse underscores human responsibility for choosing one's path, even within the framework of divine predetermination.