# On Critics সমালোচনার জগতে আমরা কখনো ঘুরিয়ে ফিরিয়ে যাই। প্রতিটি পদক্ষেপে সন্দেহ, প্রতিটি কোণে প্রশ্ন। সমালোচক হওয়া মানে একটি নিরন্তর যাতনার অধীন থাকা — যেখানে সত্য এবং মতামত একসাথে চলে, কখনো আলাদা হয় না। আমরা বলি যে সমালোচক হল সেই ব্যক্তি যিনি অন্যের কাজের দোষ খোঁজেন। কিন্তু এটি সত্যের শুধু অর্ধেক। সমালোচক আসলে একজন পাঠক, একজন শ্রোতা — যিনি গভীরতার সন্ধান করেন। তাঁর চোখ সবসময় খোলা থাকে, তাঁর মন সর্বদা সক্রিয়। তিনি গ্রহণ এবং প্রত্যাখ্যান উভয়ের মধ্য দিয়ে চলেন। সমালোচনা যদি শুধুমাত্র ধ্বংসের যন্ত্র হতো, তাহলে সাহিত্যের কোনো অগ্রগতি হতো না। কিন্তু সমালোচক যখন সৎ থাকেন, যখন তাঁর উদ্দেশ্য শুধুমাত্র সৌন্দর্য এবং সত্যকে উন্নীত করা, তখন তিনি শিল্পের একজন সেবক হয়ে ওঠেন। তাঁর কলম হয়ে ওঠে আলোর একটি কিরণ। তবে দুর্ভাগ্যবশত, অনেক সমালোচক ক্ষমতা এবং প্রভাবের মুখোশ পরে কথা বলেন। তাঁদের জন্য সমালোচনা হয়ে ওঠে একটি অস্ত্র। তারা অন্যদের নীচে ফেলে নিজেদের উপরে উঠতে চান। এই ধরনের সমালোচনা বিষাক্ত, এবং এটি সৃজনশীলতার পথে কাঁটা বিছিয়ে দেয়। সৃজনশীল মানুষরা জানেন যে সমালোচনা অনিবার্য। যারা কিছু সৃষ্টি করেন, তারা তাদের কাজ বিশ্বের কাছে উন্মুক্ত করেন — এবং বিশ্ব সর্বদা রায় দেয়। কিন্তু এই রায় যখন সদিচ্ছা থেকে আসে, তখন এটি উন্নতির একটি সোপান হয়ে ওঠে। যখন এটি বিদ্বেষ থেকে আসে, তখন এটি কোনো মূল্য রাখে না। আমাদের সমাজে সমালোচকরা একটি জরুরি কাজ করেন — তারা আমাদের সাহিত্যকে পরীক্ষা করেন, আমাদের ধারণাগুলিকে চ্যালেঞ্জ করেন, আমাদের প্রতিষ্ঠানগুলির অপূর্ণতা তুলে ধরেন। তবে এই দায়িত্ব ভারী, এবং এটি সততা এবং নম্রতার সাথে বহন করতে হবে। একজন প্রকৃত সমালোচক কখনো নিজেকে বিচারক হিসেবে দেখেন না, বরং একজন চিন্তাশীল পর্যবেক্ষক হিসেবে দেখেন। সমালোচনা এবং সৃজনশীলতা প্রকৃতপক্ষে দুটি অংশ একটি সম্পূর্ণ যার। সংঘর্ষ নয়, তাদের সমন্বয়ের প্রয়োজন। যখন একজন সমালোচক বুঝতে পারেন যে তার কাজ হল সৃজনশীলতার সেবা করা, সাহিত্যকে উন্নত করা এবং সত্যকে আলোকিত করা — তখন তিনি সমাজে একজন শক্তিশালী এবং সম্মানিত ব্যক্তিত্ব হয়ে ওঠেন। এবং তখন তার সমালোচনা শুধু কথা নয় — এটি একটি শিল্পকর্ম হয়ে ওঠে।

Question: How do you accept or reject what critics say?

Answer: There is nothing to reject about critics—critics will always exist. Those who do nothing have no critics. Those who work will have critics, inevitably. There is only one way to free yourself from criticism: sit idle, fold your hands and feet, do nothing at all. If you cannot do that, then you will have critics.

So how do I handle or tackle criticism? First, I ask myself: Is the person criticizing me a well-wisher? If he is, then I understand he has spoken for my own good, and I try to follow his words. If he is not a well-wisher, then it becomes clear that he is criticizing me merely to make himself appear greater!

We are many who cannot grow. So we diminish others and imagine we have become great! That is no technique for greatness at all. The eagle stands high in the animal kingdom, among the birds. Everyone fears it. But there is one bird that can sit upon the eagle's neck and peck at it. That bird is the crow—a bird we hardly regard. Yet everyone regards the eagle. When the crow sits on the eagle's neck and pecks, the eagle does nothing. No other bird has such audacity. For the crow does not know the eagle. When the crow pecks, the eagle does not try to remove it, does not scold it, does nothing. What does the eagle do then? It flies higher, it ascends with greater speed. The faster the eagle flies, the faster the crow cannot fly—the crow cannot match that speed! And when the eagle rises so high, gradually the oxygen becomes scarce, and the crow cannot breathe properly in such scarcity. Then the crow is forced to do what? It falls away.

So when those who peck at me now—if I raise myself ever higher, so high that they cannot even touch me, that they dare not reach me, that itself is the finest answer. That is what I try to do. And when I see that my critic has never appeared in any good work of mine, has never come to praise any good deed of mine, yet the moment I have done something wrong or made a mistake, he comes rushing in with glee—then that person does not wish me well. He is no friend, no well-wisher, no one who desires my good. Therefore I pay him no heed, I do not take his words seriously at all.

There is another matter of consequence: if we rank William Shakespeare as the foremost dramatist, then we must acknowledge George Bernard Shaw as the second greatest. Yet here lies the paradox—George Bernard Shaw was Shakespeare's most formidable critic! He would dissect Shakespeare's plays with surgical precision, leaving nothing unscathed, sparing no quarter. Now, Shaw possessed the standing to critique Shakespeare. Why? Because Shaw himself was a great dramatist. But imagine if our neighbourhood's Salimuddin Kalimuddin—a man who has never written a play, never understood one, knows nothing of drama—were to stride onto Shakespeare's Facebook wall and write: "You horse's ass, you can't write, you're worthless." Then Shakespeare would be entirely justified in deleting that comment, blocking that man, or simply disregarding it altogether.

Never grant credence to criticism from someone who knows nothing of your work. You are a photographer—criticism of photography from one who neither understands it nor feels it has no weight. To accept film criticism from someone who grasps nothing of cinema is meaningless. To take literary critique from one who cannot write or has never truly read is pointless. This is what I believe.

There is another principle I hold: if I ever needed counsel, I would not seek it from a man I would never invite to the seat of advisor. Should such a man presume to offer me counsel or criticism unbidden, I dismiss it entirely. I accept no critique whatsoever from such unsolicited intruders.

Remember this too: those who criticize, who condemn, who dog a man's heels—they are almost always people who could not do what you are attempting. They are failures. The moment you begin to heed them, you waste time you cannot afford. You lose the hours meant for your own work. The man most harshly judged by crowds is always one they have never truly known. This is why they are called the masses, and he is called exceptional. The public is always the public. Now it is your choice—will you remain among them, or will you step into his rank? It is up to you!

You can never move ahead of a person by trailing behind them—remember this always. If you wish to surpass them, you must follow their work, not their person. Poor critics are those who, unable to critique the work itself, resort to critiquing the person. A good critic examines the work a person has created, critiques from that vantage point. The poor critic begins assailing the person instead. His tooth is crooked, he twists his lip when he smiles, his character is flawed, he's a failure, he looks this way or that way, he failed an exam—and so on and so forth. When someone writes against a poet and attacks his character, understand this: that person's real suffering lies elsewhere.

When critiquing a poem, if someone says the poet failed an exam, then you must understand: they comprehend only what passing and failing mean. Poetry, they do not grasp. I cannot call such a person a critic. I would call them a detractor. There is a difference between detractor and critic. The detractor pursues the creator; the critic pursues the creation. Those without mental maturity, when they attempt criticism, become detractors. Look at the comments people leave on my writings—the sheer absurdity of it—you can see it on Facebook. In the beginning, I grew quite angry; now I think, what else could they possibly do? They cannot do anything but hurl abuse. If they commented on my writing, I would be pleased, but they cannot—they are incapable of saying anything about the work. They do not even understand what writing is.

Then there is another type of person who causes real harm. I speak to those who write, who create. You will encounter certain people who do not read your work, do not understand it—yet they simply leave a love reaction and sit there. I love you! Brilliant writing! This person has not read it, not read it at all, yet they say: brilliant, keep going, absolutely brilliant! I can guarantee you with certainty: they have not read your work at all. I can discern who reads and who does not. I understand this very well. Because these people blindly admire you, they praise everything you write indiscriminately. Suppose someone named Raihan Uddin commented once; if later you write somewhere in your piece that there exists a fool named Raihan Uddin, he will comment on that too: Brilliant, brother!

Again, some people like and comment on my writing for a reason, you know what? They think: if I can pass the BCS preliminary exam just by giving a like, what's the harm? Let me give a like...just one like! Then there are those who take a liking to me for some bizarre reason or other. They like my writing without reading it, they comment without reading a word. In this I am most unfortunate. I have had very few good readers; not that I have none at all, but good readers are rare for me. And you will find people like this too: you write something good, and they become a truly attentive reader of your work. They won't like it, won't comment. But they read your pieces. Why don't they like? Why don't they comment? Because laziness overtakes them—so no like, no comment.

And often, some people think: if I like something, I'll diminish myself somehow! Why should I bother giving a like? Never mind! Let me keep a little mystique about myself! Listen friend, I don't even have time to look at your writing! Yet they read your work in secret. How will you ever know? You write something flawed—a piece with poor information, or you post a photo they don't find appealing. Then they pounce. Suddenly they believe it their moral duty to expose your entire lineage. *I've caught you, I've got you!*—they dive right in! Never pay attention to such people.