وَلِلَّذِينَ كَفَرُوا۟ بِرَبِّهِمْ عَذَابُ جَهَنَّمَ ۖ وَبِئْسَ ٱلْمَصِيرُ إِذَآ أُلْقُوا۟ فِيهَا سَمِعُوا۟ لَهَا شَهِيقًا وَهِىَ تَفُورُ
Wa lilladhīna kafarū bi-rabbihim ʿadhābu jahannam, wa biʾsa'l-maṣīr — idhā ulqū fīhā samiʿū lahā shahīqan wa hiya tafūr "And for those who denied their Lord there is the punishment of Hell; what an evil destination! When they are cast into it they hear it drawing a terrible breath as it boils."
مَصِير — root ص-ي-ر. And the proper sense of this root is to turn from one state into another. Ṣāra — became, turned into. In Arabic grammar the verb ṣāra, one of kāna and its sisters, conveys exactly this: a thing's coming to be another thing.
It is rendered into English as "destination" and this is right; but the idea of transformation inside the word is lost. Maṣīr is not only the place gone to; it is the place where what a person has become is settled.
In the discussion of al-Ghāshiya the difference between the words iyāb and rujūʿ was recorded. Maṣīr differs from these: rujūʿ is to return, maṣīr is to be transformed. One conveys a place, the other a state.
Root: ش-ه-ق. And the concrete equivalent of the word is needed in order to understand the verse fully.
- زَفِير (zafīr) — the letting out of breath; the deep, rasping sound that comes from the chest.
- شَهِيق (shahīq) — the drawing in of breath; the long, muffled sound made while pulling air into the lungs.
And the most concrete example the lexicographers record is this: the braying of a donkey. Braying is in two parts — first the drawing in (shahīq), then the letting out (zafīr). Arabic has named these two movements separately.
- "There they will have zafīr and shahīq" (Hūd 11/106) — here both sounds are the sounds of the people of the Fire.
And now see the reversal in Sūrat al-Mulk: here shahīq is not the sound of the people but the sound of the fire. Samiʿū lahā shahīqan — "they hear its drawing of breath."
The change of roles is a literary move worth recording. In Sūrat Hūd it is the people who breathe and the fire is a silent place. In Sūrat al-Mulk the people are listeners and the fire is what breathes.
What does this do? It takes the fire out of being a place and sets it up like a living thing. The next verse will take this further still: the fire will be enraged.
And note the form of the verb: samiʿū — they heard. The first contact is not seeing but hearing. The one who is cast in does not first see, he first hears. This is the real experience of someone thrown into a dark place: sound comes before sight.
Root: ف-و-ر. To boil, to bubble, to rise by overflowing. Fawwāra — a fountain, gushing water. Fāra'l-māʾ — the water boiled, bubbled up.
Its best-known use in the Qurʾān is in the story of Noah: "Until, when Our command came and the oven boiled over…" (Hūd 11/40 — wa fāra'l-tannūr).
The fine point of the word is this: fawr is heat's becoming visible. While a vessel is heating nothing is seen; when it boils the heat turns into movement. The word fevrî that has passed from the same root into Turkish still carries this sudden and overflowing movement.
And the picture the two words give together: shahīq is sound, tafūr is movement. One addresses the ear, the other the eye. The verse completes the scene by laying two senses one on the other.
And the forms of the verbs differ too: samiʿū is perfect (they heard), tafūr imperfect (it boils). That is, the hearing is a moment, the boiling a continuity. The boiling was there before they came and goes on after they come.