Suppose there was a queue of blind men, each holding the one in front: the first one does not see, the middle one does not see, and the last one does not see. In the same way, it seems to me that the brahmins’ statement turns out to be comparable to a queue of blind men: the first one does not see, the middle one does not see, and the last one does not see. Their statement turns out to be a joke—mere words, vacuous and hollow.

What do you think, Vāseṭṭha? Do the brahmins proficient in the three Vedas see the sun and moon just as other folk do? And do they supplicate and entreat them, following their course from where they rise to where they set with cupped palms held in worship?” “Yes, worthy Gotama.”

“What do you think, Vāseṭṭha? Though this is so, are the brahmins proficient in the three Vedas able to teach the path to the company of the sun and moon, saying: ‘This is the only straight path, the direct route that delivers one who applies it to the company of the sun and moon’?” “No, worthy Gotama.”