“It is not the critic who counts.”
— Theodore Roosevelt, “Citizenship in a Republic,” 1910Kabir – The couplet
हस्ती चढ़िए ज्ञान कौ, सहज दुलीचा डारि।
स्वान रूप संसार है, भूँकन दे झख मारि॥Transliterated
Hastī chaṛhiye jñān kau, sahaj dulīchā ḍāri |
Svān-rūp saṃsār hai, bhū̃kan de jhakh māri ||Translation
Mount the elephant of wisdom, spreading upon it the saddlecloth of natural ease.
The world is like a barking dog—let it exhaust itself in the noise.My understanding
Kabir gives me two animals: an elephant and a dog. The elephant represents knowledge (jñān) —not merely accumulated information, but knowledge that has acquired weight, steadiness and direction. Upon this elephant, Kabir places the dulīchā, a small carpet or saddlecloth, of sahaj: an unforced inner composure. Then the world begins to bark (point out/complain/ridicule/oppose in a loud and obnoxious voice). Traditional readings understand this barking as ridicule, criticism and worldly opposition. Kabir’s advice is startlingly direct: remain seated. Do not abandon the elephant merely because noise has appeared beside the road.
Theodore Roosevelt speaks from the public arena. He distinguishes the person attempting difficult work from the spectator who points out every stumble. Kabir’s emphasis is more inward. He asks whether I am sufficiently grounded in wisdom to continue without allowing every passing judgment to seize the reins. That is a difficult discipline! A critical remark can occupy my mind longer than a hundred kind words. One dismissive comment can make me question work that required months of thought. Sometimes the critic is not even present. I carry an imaginary audience within me, rehearsing its objections before I have taken the first step.
( in our modern world, particularly the American version, we have a close parallel, called Thursday night armchair quarterbacking. While in front of the TV and watching replays after the play is done, it is easy to point out everything the quarterback (the football player) has done wrong on the field. But take any one of those complaining – and put them on the real field in front of those immensely trained and athletic teams – how will this individual fare? )
P.S – This is as good a place as any to plug that beautiful show – Ted Lasso. If you can, make sure to watch all 4 seasons of the show.If I climb down to answer every ridicule, when will I travel?
Yet this couplet cannot honestly mean that all criticism should be ignored. That would turn wisdom into arrogance. Sometimes the uncomfortable voice is correct. Sometimes another person sees the stone in my path that pride has prevented me from noticing.
The question is not simply, “Was I criticized?” The better questions are:
- Is it offered to help repair something—or merely to wound?
- Will responding make me more truthful, compassionate and responsible?
If the answer is yes, wisdom may ask me to stop, listen and change direction. If the criticism is only insult, performance or endless provocation, I need not hand it the reins.
Kabir’s dog image can sound harsh when applied carelessly to people. I understand it as a metaphor for distracting noise, not permission to deny anyone’s humanity. The real danger may be within me: the restless need to be approved, defended and declared correct. The elephant of knowledge is also not an elephant of ego. Ego sits high so that others will look up. Wisdom sits steadily because it knows where it is going.
I cannot prevent the world from speaking. I cannot control every interpretation of my actions. But I can examine my direction, correct myself honestly and continue without turning every roadside voice into my destination. The world may bark. My responsibility is to remain teachable—without surrendering the reins.