Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
Here is a beautiful test of real wisdom: the person who can honestly judge his own heart — only that person is a true judge. The one who understands both the sickness and its cure — only that one is a real healer.
So don't get tangled up in pointless busy-ness along the way; remember you are only a guest here, passing through. Spend your time with those who know the One, and let go of harmful ways. The good person who doesn't live by greed, who stays rooted in truth, is welcomed and honored.
And a warning, archer: if you shoot an arrow straight up at the sky, how could it ever reach it? The sky is beyond your reach — so aim your life at what you can actually reach: the One within, not the far targets of ego and pride.
This shalok of Guru Angad opens with two of the most quoted lines in Sikh thought, both turning the usual direction of judgment inward. If someone judges himself, only then is he known as a real judge. We are endlessly ready to judge others; the truly wise person turns that gaze around and judges himself first — and only that honest self-judgment qualifies anyone to be called a judge at all. And its companion: if someone understands both the disease and the medicine, only then is he a wise physician. A real healer must know both the illness and its cure; and the deepest application is to one's own soul — knowing your own sickness (the ego, the passions) and the medicine (the Name) is what makes you wise. Self-knowledge is the qualification for both judging and healing.
From this the shalok draws practical counsel for a passing life. Do not involve yourself in idle business on the way; remember that you are only a guest here. You are a traveler, a guest in this world, not a permanent resident — so do not sink your whole self into the pointless busy-ness of the road. Speak with those who know the Primal Lord, and renounce your evil ways. Keep good company; drop what harms. And the standard of a genuine life: that virtuous person who does not walk in the way of greed, and who abides in Truth, is accepted and famous — honored where it counts, in the One's reckoning.
The shalok ends with a memorable image of futility: if an arrow is shot at the sky, how can it reach there? The sky above is unreachable — know this well, O archer! You can fire your arrow straight up with all your strength, and it will never pierce the sky; the sky is simply beyond what an arrow can reach. So too the ego's striving to seize the infinite by force, to conquer the heights by sheer effort or pride, is an arrow shot at the sky — it cannot land. The lesson is not despair but redirection: stop firing arrows at the unreachable sky of ego-glory and self-greatness, and aim instead at what is actually reachable — the One within, found not by force but by humble self-judgment, good company, and truth. The archer who understands this stops wasting arrows on the sky and turns to the target that is near.
Where are you firing 'arrows at the sky' — straining to reach by force what can't be seized — and what nearer, truer target could you aim at instead?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI