The Story of Hazrat Luqman and the Melon: Sufi story from Masnavi by Mevlana Rumi [2.4.7]

 

Hazrat Luqman was a very wise and holy man who is mentioned in the Quran in the Sūra that is named after him (Suraa Luqman, the 31^st Surah). He was a black slave whose wisdom and patience is praised by Allah Subhana Taallah. Below story is narrated in Masnavi by Maulana Rumi, describing the great character, loyalty and patience of the the great wiseman. 

 

 

Luqman was a pure and unselfish slave, and was brisk in service day and night

His master preferred him to all others in the work of service and deemed him better than his own sons.

Whatever food they brought to Luqman’s master, he would send someone to Luqman

That Luqman might put his hand to part-take it, so that the master might eat Luqman’s leavings.

He would eat his left-over and be enraptured: any food that Luqman did not taste, the master would throw away.

 

They had brought a melon as a present. “Go,” he said, “call my son here, Luqman.”

When he cut it and gave him a slice, Luqman ate it as if it were sweet as sugar and honey.

Because of the pleasure with which he ate it, he gave him a second slice, and went on until he had been given seventeen slices.

One slice remained. He said, “I will eat this myself, so that I may see what a sweet melon this is!”

 

As soon as the master ate it, its sourness kindled a fire which blistered his tongue and burnt his throat.

He became beside himself for a while because of its sourness; after that he said to him, “O’ you who are soul and world,

How did you make all this poison an antidote? How did you deem this cruelty to be kindness?

Why did you not cleverly present a excuse , saying, ‘I have an excuse for refusing to eat: be patient for a while’.

 

 

Luqman said, “I have eaten so much from your generous hand that I am bent double with shame.

I was ashamed not to eat one bitter thing from your hand, O’ you who possess knowledge.

Since all parts of me have grown from your bounty and are plunged in your bait and snare

If I cry out and complain because of one bitter thing, may the dust of a hundred roads be on all parts of me!

 

By love bitter things become sweet; by love pieces of copper become golden

By love dregs become clear; by love pains become healing;

By love the dead is made living; by love the king is made a slave.

Wherever the candle of tribulation has been lighted, hundreds of thousands of loving souls are burnt.

Those lovers who are within the house (and close to Allah) are as moths to the candle of the face of the Friend.