Second part, Chapter five, dedicated to Wilhelm Gundert, my cousin in Japan.
Chapter five Kamala sad Arthur learned something new on every step of his path,
for the world was transformed and his heart was enchanted. He saw the
sun rising over the mountains with their forests, and setting over the distant beach
with its palm trees. At night. He saw the stars in the sky
in their fixed positions, and the crescent of the moon floating like a boat
in the blue. He saw trees, stars, animals, clouds, rainbows,
rocks, herbs, flowers, stream and river, the glistening dew in
the bushes in the morning, distant high mountains which were blue and pale.
Birds sang, and bees wind silverishly blue through the rice field. All of
this, a thousandfold and colorful had always been there, always. The sun
and the moon had shone always, the rivers had roared, and the bees
had buzzed. But in former times, all of this had been nothing more
to Siddhartha than a fleeting, deceptive veil before his eyes, looked upon in
distrust, destined to be penetrated and destroyed by thought, since it was not
the essential existence, Since this essence lay beyond, on the other side of
the visible. But now his liberated eyes stayed on this side. He saw
and became aware of the visible, sought to be at home in this world,
did not seek for the true essence, did not aim at a world
beyond. Beautiful was this world, looking at it thus without searching, thus
simply, thus childlike. Beautiful were the moon and the stars. Beautiful was
the stream and the banks, the forest and the rocks, the goat and
the gold beetle, the flower and the butterfly. Beautiful and lovely. It
was thus to walk through the world thus childlike, thus awoken, thus open
to what is near, thus without distrust. Differently, the sun burnt the
head, differently, the shade of the forest cooled him down. Differently,
the stream and the cistern, the pumpkin and the banana tasted short. Were
the days short, the nights. Every hour sped away like a sail on
the sea. And under the sail was a ship of treasures, full of
joy. Said Arthur. Saw a group of apes moving through the high canopy
of the forest, high in the branches, and heard their savage, greedy
song. Sid Arthur saw a male sheep following a female one and mating with
her. In a lake of reeds, he saw the pike hungrily hunting for
its dinner, propelling themselves away from it in fear. Wriggling and sparkling.
The young fish jumped in droves out of the water. The scent of strength
and passion came forcefully out of the hasty eddies of the water, which the
pike stirred up, impetuously hunting. All of this had always existed, and
he had not seen it. He had not been with it. Now he
was with it. He was part of it. Light and shadow ran through
his eyes, stars and moon ran through his heart. On the way,
SidD Arthur also remembered everything he had experienced in the garden Jetavana, the teaching
he had heard there, the divine Buddha, the farewell to Govinda, the
conversation with the Exalted One. Again he remembered his own words. He had
spoken to the Exalted One, every word, and with astonishment he became aware
of the fact that there he had said things which he had not really known
yet at this time. What he had said to Gautama, his the Buddha's
treasure and secret, was not the teaching, but the unexpressible and not teachable,
which he had experienced in the hour of its enlightenment. It was nothing
but this very thing what he now began to experience. Now he had to
experience his self. It is true that he had already known for a long
time that his self was Utman in its essence, bearing the same eternal characteristics
as Brahman. But never had he really found this self, because he had
wanted to capture it in the net of thought, with the body definitely not
being the self and not the spectacle of the senses. So it also was
not the thought, not the rational mind, not the learned wisdom, not
the learned ability to draw conclusions and to develop previous thoughts into new ones.
No, this world of thought was also still on this side, and nothing
could be achieved by the random self of the senses if the random self of
the thoughts and learned knowledge was fattened. On the other hand, both the
thoughts as well as the senses were pretty things. The ultimate meaning was hidden
behind both of them. Both had to be listened to, both had to
be played with. Both, neither had to be scorned nor overestimated from both.
The secret voices of the innermost truth had to be attentively perceived. He
wanted to strive for nothing except for what the voice commanded him to strive for,
dwell on nothing except where the voice would advise him to do so.
Why had Gautama at that time, in the hour of all hours, sat
down under the bow tree where the enlightenment hit him? He had heard a
voice, a voice in his own heart, which had commanded him to seek
rest under this tree. And he had neither preferred self castigation, offerings,
ablutions, nor prayer, neither food nor drink, neither sleep nor dream.
He had obeyed the voice to obey like this, not to an external command,
only to the voice to be ready like this. This was good,
This was necessary. Nothing else was necessary. In the night, when he
slept in the straw heart of a ferryman by the river, Siddhartha had a
dream. Govinda was standing in front of him, dressed in the yellow robe
of an ascetic sad was how Govinda looked like? Sadly, he asked,
why have you forsaken me? At this, he embraced Govinda, wrapped his
arms around him, and as he was pulling him close to his chest,
and kissed him. It was not Govinda anymore, but a woman, and
a full breast popped out of the woman's dress, at which Siddhartha lay and
drank sweetly and strongly tasted the milk from this breast. It tasted of woman
and man, of sun, and forest, of animal and flower, of
every fruit, of every joyful desire. It intoxicated him and rendered him unconscious.
When Siddartha woke up, the pale river shimmered through the door of the
hut, and in the forest a dark call of an owl resounded deeply and
pleasantly. When the day began, Siddartha asked his host, the Fairyman,
to get him across the river. The ferryman got him across the river on
his bamboo raft. The wide water shimmered reddishly in the light of the morning.
This is a beautiful river, he said to his companion. Yes,
said the ferryman, a very beautiful river. I love it more than anything.
Often I have listened to it. Often I have looked into its eyes,
and always I have learned from it. Much can be learned from a
river. I thank you, my benefactor, spoke said Arthur, disembarking on
the other side of the river. I have no gift I could give you
for your hospitality, my dear, and also no payment for your work.
I am a man without a home, a son of a Brahman and a
Samana. I did see it, spoke the ferryman, and I haven't expected
any payment from you, and no gifts, which would be the custom for
guests to bear. You will give me the gift another time, do you
think so, asked sid Arthur, amusedly. Surely this two I have learned
from the river. Everything is coming back you too, Samana will come back
now. Farewell. Let your friendship be my reward. Commemorate me when you'll
make your offerings to the gods. Smiling, they parted. Smiling. Sid
Arthur was happy about the friendship and the kindness of the fairyman. He is
like Govinda, he thought, with a smile. All I meet on my
path are like Govinda. All are thankful, though they are the ones who
would have a right to receive thanks. All are submissive, All would like
to be friends, like to obey, think little, like children are all
people. At about noon, he came through a village. In front of
the mud cottages, children were rolling about in the street were playing with pumpkin
seeds and seashells, screamed and wrestled, but they all timidly fled from the
unknown Samana. In the end of the village, the path led through a
stream, and by the side of the stream, a young woman was kneeling
and washing clothes. When SidD Arthur greeted her, she lifted her head and
looked up to him with a smile, so that he saw the white in
her eyes glistening. He called out a blessing to her, as is the
custom among travelers, and asked how far he still had to go to reach
the large city. Then she got up and came to him beautifully. Her
wet mouth was shimmering in her young face. She exchanged humorous banter with him,
asked whether he had eaten already, and whether it was true that the
Samanas slept alone in the forest at night and were not allowed to have any
women with them. While talking, she put her left foot on his right
one and made a movement as a woman does. Who would want to initiate
that kind of sexual pleasure with a man, which the text books call climbing
a tree? Said Arthur felt his blood heating up, and since in this
moment he had to think of his dream again, he bent slightly down to
the woman and kissed with his lips the brown nipple of her breast. Looking
up, he saw her face smiling, full of lust, and her eyes
with contracted pupils, begging with desire. Siddartha also felt desire and felt the
source of his sexuality moving. But since he had never touched a woman before,
he hesitated for a moment while his hands were already prepared to reach out
for her. And in this moment he heard, shuddering with awe, the
voice of his innermost self, and this voice said no. Then all charms
disappeared from the young woman's smiling face. He no longer saw anything else but
the damp glance of a female animal in heat. Politely, he petted her
cheek, turned away from her, and disappeared from the disappointed woman with light
steps into the bamboo wood. On this day, he reached the large city
before the evening and was happy, for he felt the need to be among
people. For a long time he had lived in the forest and the straw
hut of the fairy man, in which he had slept that night had been
the first roof for a long time he had had over his head before the
city. In a beautifully fenced grove, the traveler came across a small group
of servants, both male and female, carrying baskets in their midst Carried by
four servants in an ornamental sedan chair, sat a woman, the mistress,
on red pillows under a colorful canopy. Siddartha stopped at the entrance to the
pleasure garden and watched the parade, saw the servants, the maids, the
baskets, saw the sedan chair, and saw the lady in it, under
black hair which made to tower high on her head. He saw a very
fair, very delicate, very smart face, a rightly red mouth like a
freshly cracked fig, eyebrows which were well tended and painted in a high arch,
smart and watchful dark eyes, a clear, tall neck rising from a
green and golden garment, resting fair hands, long and thin, with wide
golden bracelets over the wrists. Sid Arthur saw how beautiful she was, and
his heart rejoiced. He bowed deeply when the sedan chair came closer, and
straightening up again, he looked at the fair charming face read for a moment
in the smart eyes with the high arcs above, breathed in a slight fragrance
he did not know. With a smile, the beautiful woman nodded for a
moment and disappeared into the grove, and then the servant as well. Thus
I am entering this city, said Arthur thought, with a charming omen.
He instantly felt drawn into the grove, and he thought about it. And
only now he became aware of how the servants and maids had looked at him
at the entrance, how despicable, how distrustful, how rejecting. I am
still a Samana, he thought, I am still an ascetic and beggar.
I must not remain like this. I will not be able to enter the
grove like this, and he laughed. The next person who came along this
path, he asked about the grove and for the name of the woman,
and was told that this was the grove of Cumala, the famous Courtizan,
and that aside from the grove, she owned a house in the city.
Then he entered the city. Now he had a goal. Pursuing his goal,
he allowed the city to suck him in, drifted through the flow of
the streets, stood still on the squares, rested on the stairs of stone
by the river. When the evening came, he made friends with a barber's
assistant whom he had seen working in the shade of an arch in a building,
whom he had found again praying in a temple of Vishnu, whom he
had told about stories of Vishnu and the Lakshmi. Among the boats by the
river. He slept this night and early in the morning, before the first
customers came into his shop, he had the barber's assistant shave his beard and
cut his hair, comb his hair and anoint it with fine oil. Then
he went to take his bath in the river. When late in the afternoon,
beautiful Kamala approached her grove in her sedan chair, Siddatha was standing at
the entrance, made a bow and received the quartzan's greeting. But that servant,
who walked at the very end of her train, he motioned to him
and asked him to inform his mistress that a young Brahman would wish to talk
to her. After a while, the servant returned, asked him who had
been waiting to follow him, conducted him who was following him without a word
into a pavilion where Kamala was lying on a couch and left him alone with
her. Weren't you already standing out there yesterday greeting me, asked Kamala.
It's true that I've already seen and greeted you yesterday. And didn't you yesterday
wear a beard and long hair and dust in your hair? You have observed,
well, you have seen everything. You have seen Siddhatha, the son
of a Brahman who has left his home to become a samana, and who
has been a samana for three years. But now I have left that path
and came into this city. And the first one I met, even before
I had entered the city, was you to say this, I have come
to you. Oh Kamala, you are the first woman whom Siddhartha is not
addressing with his eyes turned to the ground. Never again, I want to
turn my eyes to the ground when I am coming across a beautiful woman.
Kamala smiled and played with her fan of peacock's feathers and asked, and only
to tell me this. Siddhartha has come to me to tell you this and
to thank you for being so beautiful, and if it doesn't displease you,
Kamala, I would like to ask you to be my friend and teacher,
for I know nothing yet of that art which you have mastered in the highest
degree. At this, Kamala laughed aloud. Never before this has happened to
me, my friend, that a Samana from the forest came to me and
wanted to learn from me. Never before this has happened to me, that
a samana came to me with long hair and an old torn loincloth. Many
young men come to me, and there are also sons of Brahmans among them.
But they come in beautiful clothes, They come in fine shoes, they
have perfume in their hair and money in their pouches. This is oh Samana.
How the young men are like who come to me, quoth Saddhartha.
Already I am starting to learn from you. Even yesterday I was already learning.
I have already taken off my beard, have combed the hair, have
oil in my hair. There is little which is still missing in me,
Oh excellent one, fine clothes, fine shoes, money in my pouch.
You shall know. Sir Datha has set harder goals for himself than such trifles,
and he has reached them. How shouldn't I reach that goal which I
have set for myself yesterday, to be your friend and to learn the joys
of love from you. You'll see that I'll learn quickly, Kamala. I
have already learned harder things than what you're supposed to teach me. And now
let's get to it. You aren't satisfied with Sir Dartha as he is with
oil in his hair, but without clothes, without shoes, without money.
Laughing, Kamala exclaimed, no, my dear, he doesn't satisfy me yet.
Clothes are what he must have, pretty clothes and shoes, pretty shoes,
and lots of money in his pouch and gifts for Kamala. Do you
know it now? Samana from the forest, do you mark my words?
Yes? I have marked your words, said Arthur exclaimed. How should I
not mark words which are coming from such a mouth. Your mouth is like
a freshly cracked fig. Kamala, My mouth is red and fresh as well.
It will be a suitable match for yours, you'll see. But tell
me, beautiful Kamala, aren't you at all afraid of the Samana from the
forest? Who has come to learn how to make love? Whatever should I
be afraid of a samana, a stupid samana from the forest, who is
coming from the jackals and doesn't even know yet what women are. Oh,
he's strong, the Samana, and he isn't afraid of anything. He could
force you, beautiful girl, He could kidnap you, he could hurt you.
No, Samana, I am not afraid of this. Did any Samana
or Brahman ever fear someone might come and grab him and steal his learning and
his religious devotion and his depth of thought? No, for they are his
very own, and he would only give away from those whatever he is willing
to give, and to whomever he is willing to give. Like this,
it is precisely like this. It is also with Kamala and with the pleasures
of love. Beautiful and red is Kamala's mouth. But just try to kiss
it against Kamala's will, and you will not obtain a single drop of sweetness
from it, which knows how to give so many sweet things. You are
learning easily, said Arthur. Thus you should also learn this laugh can be
obtained by begging, buying, receiving it as a gift, finding it in
the street, but it cannot be stolen. In this you have come up
with the wrong path. No, it would be a pity if a pretty
young man like you would want to tackle it in such a wrong manner.
Siddartha bowed with a smile. It would be a pity. Kamala, You
are so right, it would be such a great pity. No, I
shall not lose a single drop of sweetness from your mouth, nor you from
mine. So it is settled. Siddartha will return once he has what he
still lacks clothes, shoes, money. But speak lovely, Kamala. Couldn't
you still give me one small advice? An advice? Why? Who wouldn't
like to give an advice to a poor, ignorant Samana who is coming from
the jackals of the forest. Dear Kamala, thus advise me where I should
go, that i'll find these three things most quickly. Friend, many would
like to know this. You must do what you've learned and ask for money,
clothes, and shoes in return. There is no other way for a
poor man to obtain money. What might you be able to do? I
can think, I can wait, I can fast, nothing else, nothing,
but yes, I can also write poetry. Would you like to give
me a kiss for a poem? I would like to If I like your
poem, what would be its title? Said Arthur spoke, after we had
thought about it for a moment. These verses into her shady grove stepped the
pretty Kamala. At the grove's entrance stood the brown Samana. Deeply, seeing
the lotus's blossom, bowed that man, and smiling Kamala thanked. More lovely,
thought the young man than offerings for gods. More lovely is offering to
pretty Kamala. Kamala loudly clapped her hands so that the golden bracelets clanged.
Beautiful are your verses, oh brown Samana, I'm losing nothing when I am
giving you a kiss for them? She beckoned him with her eyes. He
tilted his head so that his face touched hers, and placed his mouth on
that mouth, which was like a freshly cracked fig For a long time,
Kamala kissed him, and with a deep astonishment, Sir Dartha felt how she
taught him why she was, how she controlled him, rejected him, lured
him, and how after this first one there was to be a long a
well ordered, well tested sequence of kisses, every one different from the others.
He was still to receive, Breathing deeply. He remained standing where he
was, and was in this moment astonished like a child about a corner copia
of knowledge and things worth learning, which revealed itself before his eyes. Very
beautiful are your verses, exclaimed Kamala. If I was rich, I would
give you pieces of gold for them. But it will be difficult for you
to earn thus much money with verses as you need, for you need a
lot of money if you want to be Kamala's friend the way you're able to
kiss, Kamala stammered, said Arthur. Yes, this I am able to
do. Therefore, I do not lack clothes, shoes, bracelets and all
beautiful things. But what will become of you? Aren't you able to do
anything else but thinking, fasting, making poetry. I also know the sacrificial
songs, said said Arthur, but I do not want to sing them anymore.
I also know magic spells, but I do not want to speak them
anymore. I have read the scriptures, stop, Kamala interrupted him. You're
able to read and write, certainly I can do this. Many people can
do this. Most people can't. I also can't do it. It is
very good that you're able to read and write. Very good. You will
also still find use for the magic spells. In this moment, a maid
came running in and whispered the message into her mistress's ear. There's a visitor
for me, exclaimed Kamala. Hurry and get yourself away, said Arthur.
Nobody may see you in here. Remember this tomorrow I'll see you again.
But to the maid, she gave the order to give the pious Brahmin white
upper garments. Without fully understanding what was happening to him, sid Arthur found
himself being dragged away by the maid, brought into a garden house, avoiding
the direct path, being given upper garments as a gift, led into the
bushes, and urgently admonished to get himself out of the grove as soon as
possible without being seen. Contently, he did as he had been told.
Being accustomed to the forest, he managed to get out of the grove and
over the hedge without making a sound. Contently, he returned to the city,
carrying the rolled up garments under his arm. At the inn where travelers
stay, he positioned himself by the door without words. He asked for food
without a word. He accepted a piece of rice cake. Perhaps as soon
as tomorrow, he thought, I will ask no one for food anymore.
Suddenly pride flared up in him. He was a Samana no more. It
was no longer becoming to him to beg He gave the rice cake to a
dog and remained without food. Simple is the life which people lead in this
world here, thought said Arthur. It presents no difficulties. Everything was difficult,
toilsome and ultimately hopeless when I was still a Samana. Now everything is
easy, easy, like that lessons in kissing which Kamala is giving me.
I need clothes and money, nothing else. This is a small near goal.
They won't make a person lose any sleep. He had already discovered Kamala's
house in the city long before there he turned up the following day. Things
are working out well, she called out to him. They are expecting you
at Kamaswami's. He is the richest merchant of the city. If he'll like
you, he'll accept you into his service. Be smart, brown, Samana.
I had others tell him about you. Be polite towards him. He
is very powerful, but don't be too modest. I do not want you
to become his servant. You shall become his equal, or else I won't
be satisfied with you. Kamaswami is starting to get old and lazy. If
like you, he'll entrust you with a lot, said Arthur. Thanked her
and laughed, And when she found out that he had not eaten anything yesterday
and to day, she sent for bread and fruits and treated him to it.
You've been lucky, she said, when they parted. I'm opening one
door after another for you. How come do you have a spell, said
Arthur, said, yesterday I told you I knew how to think, to
wait, and to fast, and you thought this was of no use.
But it is useful for many things. Kamala. You'll see. You'll see
that the stupid Samanas are learning and able to do many pretty things in the
forest which the likes of you aren't capable of. The day before yesterday,
I was still a shaggy beggar. As soon as yesterday I have kissed Kamala,
and soon I'll be a merchant and have money and all those things you
insist upon. Well, yes, she admitted, but where would you be
without me. What would you be if Kamala wasn't helping you, Dear Kamala,
said sid Arthur, and straightened up to his full height. When I
came to you in your grove, I did the first step. It was
my resolution to learn love from this most beautiful woman. From that moment on,
when I made this resolution, I also knew that I would carry it
out. I knew that you would help me at your first glance at the
entrance to the grove, I already knew it. But what if I hadn't
been willing you were willing? Look, Kamala, when you throw a rock
into the water, it will speed on the fast discourse to the bottom of
the water. This is how it is when Sir d'Arthur has a goal,
a resolution. Sir Dartha does nothing. He waits, he thinks, he
fasts, but he passes through the things of the world like a rock through
water, without doing anything, without stirring. He is drawn. He lets
himself fall. His goal attracts him because he doesn't like anything enter his soul
which might oppose the goal. This is what Sir Dartha has learned among the
Samanas. This is what falls call magic. And of which they think it
would be affected by means of the demons. Nothing is affected by demons.
There are no demons. Everyone can perform magic. Everyone can reach his goals
if he is able to think, if he is able to wait, if
he is able to fast. Kamala listened to him. She loved his voice,
she loved the look of his eyes. Perhaps it is so, she
said, quietly, as you say, friend. But perhaps it is also
like this, that Siddhartha is a handsome man, that his glance pleases the
women, and that therefore good fortune is coming towards him. With one kiss,
Siddhartha bid his farewell. I wish that it should be this way,
my teacher, that my glance shall please you, that always good fortune shall
come to me out of your direction. End of Chapter five