The Blind Sculptor

One morning, a buzz filled the royal court as a breathtaking stone sculpture of an elephant was placed in the garden. Its detail was so precise that even the folds of skin and the curve of the tusks looked lifelike.

Impressed, Emperor Akbar asked, “Who crafted this masterpiece?”

The courtier replied, “A sculptor from the village, Your Majesty. He is... blind.”

“Blind?” Akbar exclaimed, astonished. “How can someone who cannot see create something so perfect?”

The sculptor was summoned. An elderly man walked in, guided by a young boy. He bowed respectfully.

Akbar asked, “Tell me, how did you manage to carve such beauty without ever seeing the creature you sculpted?”

The sculptor smiled and gently touched the sculpture with his fingertips. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I see through touch. I have spent years feeling the shape of elephants their size, their skin, their walk. What others see with eyes, I sense with my hands. Sometimes, feeling teaches more than sight ever can.”

Birbal stepped forward and added, “True vision does not always come through the eyes, Jahanpanah. It lies in deep understanding, patience, and connection. This man sees through the soul of what he touches.”

Akbar stood silent, humbled. “Indeed,” he said. “Talent and insight often lie where we least expect them.”

Moral: Real ability comes from within not all strength is seen with the eyes.