The light of knowledge is kindled by our preceptors, and we can see things as they are only by our preceptors' mercy.
In the darkness, if we want to perceive a certain object, we cannot use just our eyes; we have to rely on some other means to aid our perception. So, in the darkness, the object cannot be known to us in its entirety. In such a situation, even if we get some knowledge by touch or otherwise, it is all either mistaken or incomplete. It is just like the group of blind men who had encountered an elephant and tried to describe the strange new creature to one another. One man felt the trunk and said, "This is a huge snake." Another man felt a leg and said, "No, this is a great pillar." And so forth.
There is but one way to perceive things in the depth of darkness. Only if somebody brings a light into the darkness is it truly possible to see things as they are. Similarly, the light of knowledge is kindled by our preceptors, and we can see things as they are only by our preceptors' mercy. From our very birth we have become accustomed to gathering knowledge by the mercy of our preceptors, whether father, mother, or teacher. We can march along the path of progressive knowledge only by the help of such preceptors, from whom we gather experience by submissive hearing.