Chapter six, with the childlike people, said Arthur. Went to Kamaswami,
the merchant. He was directed into a rich house. Servants led him between
precious carpets into a chamber where he awaited the master of the house. Kamaswami
entered, a swiftly, smoothly moving man with very gray hair, with very
intelligent, cautious eyes, with a greedy mouth. Politely, the host and
the guest greeted one another. I have been told, the merchant began,
that you were a Brahman, a learned man, but that you seek to
be in the service of a merchant. Might you have become destitute Brahman,
so that you seek to serve No, said Sir Arthur. I have not
become destitute, and have never been destitute. You should know that I am
coming from the Samanas, with whom I have lived for a long time.
If you're coming from the Samanas, how could you be anything but destitute.
Aren't the Samanas entirely without possessions? I am without possessions, said said Arthur.
If this is what you mean, surely I am without possessions. But
I am so voluntarily, and therefore I am not destitute. But what are
you planning to live of being without possessions? I haven't thought of this yet,
sir. For more than three years I have been without possessions and have
never thought of what I should live. So you've lived of the possessions of
others. Presumably this is how it is. After all, a merchant also
lives of what other people own. Well said, But he wouldn't take anything
from another the person for nothing. He would give his merchandise in return.
So it seems to be Indeed, everyone takes, everyone gives. Such is
life. But if you don't mind me asking, being without possessions, what
would you like to give? Everyone gives what he has. A warrior gives
strength, the merchant gives merchandise, the teacher teachings, the farmer rice,
the fisher fish. Yes, indeed, and what is it now that you've
got to give? What is it that you've learned, what you're able to
do? I can think, I can wait, I can fast. That's
everything. I believe that's everything. And what's the use of that? For
example? The fasting? What is it good for? It is very good,
sir. When a person has nothing to eat, fasting is the smartest
thing he could do. When, for example, Sir Arthur hadn't learned to
fast, he would have to accept any kind of service before this day is
up, whether it may be with you or wherever, because hunger would force
him to do so. But like this, Sir Arthur can wait calmly.
He knows no impatience, He knows no emergency for a long time. He
can allow hunger to besiege him and can laugh about it. This, Sir,
is what fasting is good for. You're right, Sir Maana, wait
for a moment. Kamaswami left the room and returned with a scroll, which
he handed to his guest while asking can you read this? Sir Arthur looked
at the scroll on which a sales can tract had been written down, and
began to read out its contents. Excellent, said Kamaswami, And would you
write something for me on this piece of paper. He handed him a piece
of paper and a pen, and Sir Darthur wrote and returned the paper.
Kamaswami read, writing is good. Thinking is better, Being smart is good,
Being patient is better. It is excellent how you're able to write.
The merchant praised him. Many a thing we will still have to discuss with
one another. For today, I'm asking you to be my guest and to
live in this house. Sir Arthur thanked and accepted and lived in the dealer's
house. From now on. Clothes were brought to him and shoes, and
every day a servant prepared a bath for him. Twice a day a plentiful
meal was served, but Siddhartha only ate once a day, and ate neither
meat, nor did he drink wine. Kamaswamy told him about his trade,
showed him the merchandise and storage rooms, showed him calculations. Saddartha got to
know many new things. He heard a lot and spoke little, and,
thinking of Kamala's words, he was never subservient to the merchant, forced him
to treat him as an equal, yes even more than an equal. Kamaswami
conducted his business with care and often with passion, but Saddartha looked upon all
this as if it was a game, the rules of which he tried hard
to learn precisely, but the contents of which did not touch his heart.
He was not in Kamaswami's house for long when he already took part in his
landlord's business, but daily at the hour appointed by her. He visited beautiful
Kamala wearing pretty clothes, fine shoes, and soon he brought her gifts as
well. Much he learned from her red a smart mouth. Much he learned
from her tender supple hand, him who was regarding love still a boy,
and had a tendency to plunge blindly and insatiably into lust, like into a
bottomless pit. Him. She taught thoroughly, starting from the basics, about
that school of thought which teaches that pleasure cannot be taken without giving pleasure,
and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every look, every
spot of the body, however small it was, had its secret which would
bring happiness to those who knew about it and unleash it. She taught him
that lovers must not part from one another after celebrating love without why admiring the
other, without being just as defeated as they have been victorious, so that
with none of them should start feeling fed up or bored, or get that
evil feeling of having abused or having been abused. Wonderful hours he spent with
the beautiful and smart artist became her student, her lover, her friend.
Here with Kamala was the worth and purpose of his present life. Knit with
the business of Kamaswami, the merchant passed to duties of writing important letters and
contracts onto him, and got into the habit of discussing all important affairs with
him. He soon saw that Siddhartha knew little about rice and wool shipping and
trade, but that he acted in a fortunate manner, and that Siddartha surpassed
him the merchant in calmness and equanimity, and in the art of listening and
deeply understanding previously unknown people. This Brahman, he said to a friend,
is no proper merchant, and will never be one. There is never any
passion in his soul when he conducts our business. But he has that mysterious
quality of those people to whom success comes all by itself. Whether this may
be a good star of his birth, magic, or something he has learned
amongst Somanas. He always seems to be merely playing with our business affairs.
They never fully become a part of him, They never rule over him.
He is never afraid of failure, He is never upset by a loss.
The friend advised the merchant give him from the business he conducts for you a
third of the prophets, but let him also be liable for the same amount
of the losses. When there is a loss, then he'll become more zealous.
Kamaswami followed the advice, but said, Arthur cared little about this.
When he made a profit, he accepted it with equanimity. When he made
losses, he laughed and said, well, look at this, So this
one turned out badly. It seemed, indeed, as if he did not
care about the business. At one time, he traveled to a village to
buy a large harvest of rice there, but when he got there, the
rice had already been sold to another merchant. Nevertheless, Siddartha stayed for several
days in that village, treated the farmers for a drink, gave copper coins
to their children, joined in the celebration of a wedding, and returned extremely
satisfied from his trip. Kamaswami held against him that he had not turned back
right away, that he had wasted time and money, said Arthur answered,
stop scolding, dear friend. Nothing was ever achieved by scolding. If a
loss has occurred, let me bear that loss. I am very satisfied with
this trip. I've gotten to know many kinds of people. A Brahmin has
become my friend. Children have sat on my knees, Farmers have shown me
their fields. Nobody knew that I was a merchant. That's all very nice,
exclaimed Camiswami indignantly. But in fact you are a merchant after all,
one ought to think, or might you have only traveled for your amusement?
Surely, said Arthur laughed. Surely I have traveled for my amusement. For
what else? I've gotten to know people and places. I have received kindness
and trust. I have found friendship. Look, my dear, if I
had been Camiswami, I would have traveled back, been annoyed and in a
hurry as soon as I had seen that my purchase had been rendered impossible,
and time and money would indeed have been lost. But like this, I've
had a few good days. I've learned, had joy. I've neither harmed
myself nor others by annoyance and hastiness. And if I'll ever return there again,
perhaps to buy an upcoming harvest, or for whatever purpose it might be,
friendly people will receive me in a friendly and happy manner, and I
will praise myself for not showing any hurry and displeasure at that time. So
leave it as it is, my friend, and don't harm yourself by scolding.
If the day will come when you will see this Sir d'Arthur is harming
me, then speak a word and Sir d'Arthur will go on his own path.
But until then let's be satisfied with one another. Futile were also the
merchant's attempts to convince Siddartha that he should eat his bread Siddartha ate his own
bread, or rather they both ate other people's bread, all people's bread.
Siddartha never listened to Kamaswami's wiries, and Kamaswami had many wiries, whether there
was a business deal going on which was in danger of failing, or whether
a shipment of merchandise seemed to have been lost or a debtor seemed to be
unable to pay. Kamaswami could never convince his partner that it would be useful
to utter a few words of wire or anger to have wrinkles on the forehead
to sleep badly. When one day Kamaswami held against him that he had learned
everything he knew from him, he replied would you please not kidney with such
jokes. What I've learned from you is how much a basket of fish costs
and how much interests can be charged on loaned money. These are your areas
of expertise. I haven't learned to think from you, My dear Kamaswami,
you ought to be the one seeking to learn from me. Indeed, his
soul was not with the trade. The business was good enough to provide him
with the money for Kamala, and it earned him much more than he needed.
Besides, from this, Sirdarthur's interest and curiosity was only concerned with the
people whose businesses, crafts, wiries, pleasures, and acts of foolishness used
to be as alien and distant to him as the moon. However, easily
he succeeded in talking to all of them, in living with all of them,
in learning from all of them. He was still aware that there was
something which separated him from them, and this separating factor was him being a
Samana. He saw mankind going through life in a childlike or animal like manner,
which he loved and also despised. At the same time, he saw
them toiling, saw them suffering and becoming grave. For the sake of things
which seemed to him entirely unworthy of this price, for money, for little
pleasures, for being slightly honored. He saw them scolding and insulting each other.
He saw them complaining about a pain at which a samana would only smile,
and suffering because of deprivations which a samana would not feel. He was
open to everything these people brought his way. Welcome was the merchant who offered
him linen for sale. Welcome was the debtor who sought another loan. Welcome
was the beggar who told him for one hour the story of his poverty,
and who was not half as poor as any given Samana. He did not
treat the rich foreign merchant any different than the servant who shaved him, and
the street vendor whom he let cheat him out of some small change when buying
bananas. When Kamaswami came to him to complain about his worries or to reproach
him concerning his business, he listened curiously and happily was puzzled by him,
tried to understand him, consented that he was a little bit right, only
as much as he considered indispensable, and turned away from him. Towards the
next person who would ask for him. And there were many who came to
him, many to do business with him, many to cheat him, many
to draw some secret out of him, many to appeal to his sympathy,
many to get his advice. He gave advice, he pitied, he made
gifts, He let them cheat him a bit, And this entire game,
and the passion with which all people played this game, occupied his thoughts just
as much as the gods and Brahmans used to occupy them. At times,
he felt deep in his chest a dying, quiet voice which admonished him quietly,
lamented quietly, he hardly perceived it, And then for an hour he
became aware of the strange life he was leading, of him, doing lots
of things which were only a game of though being happy and feeling joy at
times, real life still passing him by and not touching him. As a
ball player plays with his balls, he played with his business, deals with
the people around him, watched them, found amusement in them, with his
heart, with the source of his being. He was not with them.
The source ran somewhere far away from him, ran and ran invisibly, had
nothing to do with his life. Anymore, And at several times he suddenly
became scared on account of such thoughts and wished that he would also be gifted
with the ability to participate in all of this childlike naive occupations of the daytime,
with passion and with his heart really, to live, really, to
act, really, to enjoy, and to live instead of just standing by
as a spectator. But again and again he came back to beautiful Kamala learned
the art of love, practiced the cult of lust, in which more than
anything else, giving and taking becomes one. Chatted with her, learned from
her, gave her advice, received advice. She understood him better than Govinda
used to understand and him she was more similar to him. Once he said
to her, you are like me. You are different from most people.
You are Kamala, nothing else, and inside you there is a peace and
refuge to which you can go at every hour of the day and be at
home at yourself as I can also do. Few people have this, and
yet all could have it. Not all people are smart, said Kamala.
No, said, said Arthur. That's not the reason why Kamaswami is just
as smart as I and still has no refuge. In himself. Others have
it who are small children with respect to their mind. Most people, Kamala,
are like a falling leaf which is blown and is turning around through the
air and wavers and tumbles to the ground. But others a few are like
stars. They go on a fixed course. No wind reaches them. In
themselves. They have their law and their course. Among all the learned men
and samanas of which I knew many, there was one of this kind,
a perfected one. I'll never be able to forget him. It is that
Gautama, the exalted one, who is spreading that teachings. Thousands of followers
are listening to his teachings every day, follow his instructions every hour. But
they are all falling leaves, not in themselves. They have teachings and a
law. Kamala looked at him with a smile. Again, you're talking about
him, she said. Again, you're having a samana's thoughts. Sadd Arthur
said nothing, and they played the game of love, one of the third
to your forty different games. Kamala knew her body was flexible like that of
a jaguar, and like the bow of a hunter. He who had learned
from her how to make love, was knowledgeable of many forms of lust,
many secrets. For a long time, she played with Siddhartha, enticed him,
rejected him, forced him, embraced him, enjoyed his masterful skills until
he was defeated and rested, exhausted by her side the Courtizan bent over him,
took a long look at his face, at his eyes, which had
grown tired. You are the best lover, she said thoughtfully. I ever
saw You're stronger than others, more supple, more willing. You've learned my
art well, said Arthur. At some time, when I'll be older,
I'll want to bear your child. And yet, my dear, you've remained
a samana. And yet you do not love me. You love nobody,
isn't it so? It might very well be so, said Arthur, said
tiredly, I am like you. You also do not love. How else
could you practice love as a craft. Perhaps people of our kind can't love
the childlike people can. That's their secret. End of chapter six