On September 30, 1207, in the city of Balkh (in present-day Afghanistan), a boy was born into a world of shifting empires and spiritual seekers.
His father, Bahāʾ al-Dīn Valad, was a theologian and mystic, and from him the boy inherited both faith and restlessness.
His name was Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī.
When he was still young, his family fled the Mongol invasions, journeying westward through Persia and Arabia until they settled in Konya, in present-day Turkey.
It was here that Rumi’s destiny would unfold.
“Don’t get lost in your pain. Know that one day your pain will become your cure.”
The Scholar
Rumi grew into a brilliant scholar, mastering the Qur’an, theology, and philosophy.
By his thirties, he was a respected preacher and jurist in Konya, known for his intellect and wisdom. Students filled his lectures. He lived as a man of books, laws, and reason.
But destiny was waiting — in the form of a wandering dervish.
The Meeting with Shams
In 1244, Rumi encountered Shams of Tabriz, a mystic whose fire shook his orderly world. Shams was wild, uncompromising, full of questions that cut through rules and traditions.
Their bond was immediate and transformative. Rumi set aside his lectures, his books, even his reputation, to sit with Shams in ecstatic conversation about God, love, and the mysteries of existence.
“What you seek is seeking you.”
But such closeness provoked jealousy. Shams disappeared suddenly — perhaps murdered, perhaps gone into exile. Rumi was devastated. His grief became the spark of his poetry.
The Poet Emerges
He searched for Shams across cities but never found him. His grief transformed into a river of verses — the Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi (The Collected Poems of Shams of Tabriz).
From loss, Rumi found a new voice. He began to whirl in dance, to recite verses that poured out like flames, to write of longing, union, separation, and divine love.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”
His poems were not meant for books; they were cries of the heart, songs of the soul. Yet they spread across Konya and beyond, carried on paper, in song, and in memory.
The Masnavi – His Ocean of Wisdom
In the final decade of his life, Rumi dictated his masterpiece, the Masnavi-i Ma’navi (Spiritual Couplets), to his scribe Husam al-Din Chalabi.
Spanning six volumes, it is called “the Qur’an in Persian” for its spiritual depth.
He used simple tales, parables, and metaphors to express profound truths:
“You are not a drop in the ocean.
You are the entire ocean in a drop.”
The Whirling Dervishes
Rumi’s followers formed the Mevlevi Order, known for their whirling dance — a meditation in motion, spinning like planets around the sun, symbolizing the soul’s journey to God.
Rumi himself taught not through dogma, but through poetry, music, and love.
“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.”
The Last Breath
Rumi passed away on December 17, 1273 in Konya.
He called death Shab-e Arus — The Wedding Night, the reunion of the soul with the Divine. His funeral was attended by people of all faiths — Muslims, Christians, Jews — each claiming him as their own.
“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.”
The Legacy of Rumi
More than 800 years later, Rumi’s words remain among the most read and loved poems in the world.
From Konya to California, from mosques to bookstores, his verses continue to dissolve boundaries and remind humanity of its shared essence.
“Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.”
Masnavi i Ma’navi
I died as inanimate matter and arose a plant,
I died as a plant and rose again an animal.
I died as an animal and arose a man.
Why then should I fear to become less by dying?
I shall die once again as a man
To rise an angel perfect from head to foot!
Again when I suffer dissolution as an angel,
I shall become what passes the conception of man!
Let me then become non-existent, for non-existence
Sings to me in organ tones, “To him shall we return.”