يَوْمَ نَطْوِى ٱلسَّمَآءَ كَطَىِّ ٱلسِّجِلِّ لِلْكُتُبِ ۚ كَمَا بَدَأْنَآ أَوَّلَ خَلْقٍ نُّعِيدُهُۥ ۚ وَعْدًا عَلَيْنَآ ۚ إِنَّا كُنَّا فَـٰعِلِينَ
Yawma natwis samaaa'a kataiyis sijilli lilkutub; kamaa badaanaa awwala khalqin nu'eeduh; wa'dan 'alainaa; innaa kunna faa'ileen
جس دن ہم آسمان کو اس طرح لپیٹ لیں گے جیسے خطوں کا طومار لپیٹ لیتے ہیں۔ جس طرح ہم نے (کائنات کو) پہلے پیدا کیا اسی طرح دوبارہ پیدا کردیں گے۔ (یہ) وعدہ (جس کا پورا کرنا لازم) ہے۔ ہم (ایسا) ضرور کرنے والے ہیں
On the day we roll up the sky like a scroll rolled over its writings — as we began the first creation, so we shall bring it back. This is a promise binding upon us; indeed, we will do it.
Sijill has been read several ways since the earliest commentaries: a scroll, a register kept for writing, and by some readers the name of a particular scribe. The gesture stays the same either way, a document rolled shut with everything still written inside it. The promise clause at the close is unusual in binding God to the act, and the surah spends its next verses on what that promise leaves standing: the earth, and who inherits it.