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01 - The Son of The Brahman - Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse · Philosophy and Faith

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  Speaker 1: First part to Romayne Rowland, My Dear Friend, Chapter one,
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  Speaker 1: The son of the Brahman, in the shade of the house,
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  Speaker 1: in the sunshine of the river bank, near the boats,
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  Speaker 1: in the shade of the salward forest, in the shade
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  Speaker 1: of the fig tree, is where Siddartha grew up, the
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  Speaker 1: handsome son of the Brahman, the young Falcon, together with
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  Speaker 1: his friend Govinda, son of a Brahman. The sun tanned
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  Speaker 1: his light shoulders by the banks of the river when bathing,
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  Speaker 1: performing the sacred ablutions, the sacred offerings in the mango grove.
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  Speaker 1: Shade poured into his black eyes when playing as a boy,
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  Speaker 1: when his mother sang, when the sacred offerings were made,
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  Speaker 1: when his father, the scholar, taught him, when the wise
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  Speaker 1: men talked. For a long time, Siddartha had been partaking
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  Speaker 1: in the discussions of the wise men, practicing debate with Govinda,
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  Speaker 1: Practicing with Govinda the art of reflection, the service of meditation.
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  Speaker 1: He already knew how to speak the olm silently, the
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  Speaker 1: word of words, to speak it silently into himself while inhaling,
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  Speaker 1: to speak it silently out of himself, while exhaling with
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  Speaker 1: all the concentration of his soul, the forehead surrounded by
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  Speaker 1: the glow of the clear thinking spirit. He already knew
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  Speaker 1: to feel utman in the depths of his being indestructible,
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  Speaker 1: one with the universe. Joy leapt into his father's heart
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  Speaker 1: for his son, who was quick to learn, thirsty for knowledge.
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  Speaker 1: He saw him growing up to become a great wise
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  Speaker 1: man and priest, a priest among the Brahmans. Bliss leapt
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  Speaker 1: into his mother's breast when she saw him, when she
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  Speaker 1: saw him walking, when she saw him sit down and
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  Speaker 1: get up, Siddarthur, strong, handsome, he who was walking on
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  Speaker 1: slender legs, greeting her with perfect respect. Love touched the
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  Speaker 1: hearts of the Brahman's young daughters when Siddartha walked through
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  Speaker 1: the lanes of the town, with the luminous forehead, with
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  Speaker 1: the eye of a king, with his slim hips. But
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  Speaker 1: more than all the others, he was loved by Govinda,
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  Speaker 1: his friend, the son of a Brahman. He loved Siddartha's
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  Speaker 1: eye and sweet voice. He loved his walk and the
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  Speaker 1: perfect decency of his movements. He loved everything Siddartha did
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  Speaker 1: and said, And what he loved most was his spirit,
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  Speaker 1: his transcendent, fiery thoughts, his ardent will, his high calling.
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  Speaker 1: Govinda knew he would not become a common Brahman, not
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  Speaker 1: a lazy official in charge of offerings, not a greedy
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  Speaker 1: merchant with magic spells, not a vain, vacuous speaker, not
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  Speaker 1: a mean, deceitful priest, and also not a decent, stupid
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  Speaker 1: sheep in the herd of the many. No, and he,
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  Speaker 1: Govinda as well, did not want to become one of these,
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  Speaker 1: not one of those tens of thousands of Brahmans. He
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  Speaker 1: wanted to follow sid Arthur, the beloved, the splendid, And
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  Speaker 1: in days to come, when sid Arthur would become a god,
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  Speaker 1: when he would join the glorious, then Govinda wanted to
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  Speaker 1: follow him as his friend, his companion, his servant, his
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  Speaker 1: spear carrier, his shadow. Siddarthur was thus loved by everyone.
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  Speaker 1: He was a source of joy for everybody. He was
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  Speaker 1: a delight for them all. But he, Siddarthur, was not
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  Speaker 1: a source of joy for himself. He found no delight
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  Speaker 1: in him himself. Walking the rosy paths of the fig
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  Speaker 1: tree garden, sitting in the bluish shade of the grove
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  Speaker 1: of contemplation, washing his limbs daily in the bath of repentance,
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  Speaker 1: sacrificing in the dim shade of the mango forest, his
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  Speaker 1: gestures of perfect decency, everyone's love and joy. He still
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  Speaker 1: lacked all joy in his heart. Dreams and restless thoughts
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  Speaker 1: came into his mind, flowing from the water of the river,
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  Speaker 1: sparkling from the stars of the night, melting from the
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  Speaker 1: beams of the sun. Dreams came to him, and a
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  Speaker 1: restlessness of the soul, fuming from the sacrifices breathing forth
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  Speaker 1: from the verses of the Rigvader, being infused into him,
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  Speaker 1: drop by drop, from the teachings of the old Brahmans.
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  Speaker 1: Siddhartha had started to nurse discontent in himself. He had
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  Speaker 1: started to feel that the love of his father and
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  Speaker 1: the love of his mother, and also the love of
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  Speaker 1: his friend Govinda would not bring him joy forever and
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  Speaker 1: ever would not nurse him, feed him, satisfy him. He
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  Speaker 1: had started to suspect that his venerable father and his
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  Speaker 1: other teachers, that the wise Brahmins had already revealed to
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  Speaker 1: him the most and best of their wisdom, that they
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  Speaker 1: had already filled his expecting vessel with their richness and
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  Speaker 1: the vessel was not full. The spirit was not content,
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  Speaker 1: The soul was not calm, the heart was not satisfied.
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  Speaker 1: The ablutions were good, but they were water. They did
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  Speaker 1: not wash off the sin. They did not heal the
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  Speaker 1: spirit's thirst. They did not relieve the fear in his heart.
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  Speaker 1: The sacrifices in the invocation of the gods were excellent.
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  Speaker 1: But was that all? Did the sacrifice vices give a
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  Speaker 1: happy fortune? And what about the gods? Was it really
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  Speaker 1: Prajapati who created the world? Was it not the Utman?
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  Speaker 1: He the only one, the singular one. Were the gods
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  Speaker 1: not creations? Created like me and you? Subject to time mortal?
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  Speaker 1: Was it therefore good? Was it right? Was it meaningful?
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  Speaker 1: And the highest occupation? To make offerings to the gods?
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  Speaker 1: For whom else were offerings to be made? Who else
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  Speaker 1: was to be worshiped but him, the only one, the Utman?
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  Speaker 1: And where was Utman to be found? Where did he reside?
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  Speaker 1: Where did his eternal heart beat? Where else but in
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  Speaker 1: one's own self, in its innermost part, in its indestructible part,
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  Speaker 1: which everyone had in himself? And where where was this elf,
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  Speaker 1: this innermost part, this ultimate part? It was not flesh?
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  Speaker 1: And bone. It was neither thought nor consciousness. Thus the
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  Speaker 1: wisest ones taught. So where was it to reach this place?
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  Speaker 1: The self, myself, the utman. There was another way, which
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  Speaker 1: was worthwhile looking for alas, But nobody showed this way.
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  Speaker 1: Nobody knew it, not the Father, and not the teachers,
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  Speaker 1: and the wise men, not the holy sacrificial songs. They
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  Speaker 1: knew everything, the Brahmans and their holy books. They knew everything.
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  Speaker 1: They had taken care of everything, and of more than everything.
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  Speaker 1: The creation of the world, the origin of speech, of food,
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  Speaker 1: of inhaling, of exhaling, the engagement of the senses, the
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  Speaker 1: acts of the gods. They knew infinitely much. But was
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  Speaker 1: ivaluable to know all this not knowing that one and
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  Speaker 1: only thing, the most important thing, the solely important thing. Surely,
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  Speaker 1: many verses of the Holy books, particularly in the Apanishads
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  Speaker 1: of samar Vada, spoke of this innermost and ultimate thing.
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  Speaker 1: Wonderful verses, Your soul is the whole world was written there,
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  Speaker 1: and it was written that man in his sleep, in
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  Speaker 1: his deep sleep, would meet with his innermost part and
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  Speaker 1: would reside in the atman. Marvelous wisdom was in these verses.
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  Speaker 1: All knowledge of the wisest ones had been collected there
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  Speaker 1: in magic words, pure as honey collected from bees. No,
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  Speaker 1: not to be looked down upon was the tremendous amount
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  Speaker 1: of enlightenment which lay here, collected and preserved by innumerable
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  Speaker 1: generations of wise Brahmans. But where were the Brahmans, Where
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  Speaker 1: the priests? Where the wise men or penitence who had
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  Speaker 1: succeeded in not just knowing this deepest of all knowledge,
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  Speaker 1: but also to live it? Where was the knowledgeable one
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  Speaker 1: who wove his spell to bring his familiarity with the
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  Speaker 1: Atman out of the sleep, into the state of being awake,
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  Speaker 1: into the life, into every step of the way, into
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  Speaker 1: word and deed. SidD Arthur knew many venerable Brahmans, chiefly
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  Speaker 1: his father, the pure one, the scholar, the most venerable one.
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  Speaker 1: His father was to be admired. Quiet and noble. Were
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  Speaker 1: his manners pure, his life wise, his words delicate, and
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  Speaker 1: noble thoughts lived behind its brow. But even he who
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  Speaker 1: knew so much did he live in blissfulness? Did he
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  Speaker 1: have peace? Was he not also just a searching man,
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  Speaker 1: a thirsty man? Did he not again and again have
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  Speaker 1: to drink from holy sources as a thirsty man, from
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  Speaker 1: the offerings, from the books, from the disputes of the Brahmins.
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  Speaker 1: Why did he, the irreproachable one, have to wash off
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  Speaker 1: sins every day, strive for a cleansing every day, over
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  Speaker 1: and over every day. Was not atman in him? Did
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  Speaker 1: not the pristine source spring from his heart? It had
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  Speaker 1: to be found, the pristine source in one's own self.
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  Speaker 1: It had to be possessed. Everything else was searching, was
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  Speaker 1: a detour, was getting lost. Thus were said Arthur's thoughts.
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  Speaker 1: This was his thirst, this was his suffering. Thus he
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  Speaker 1: spoke to himself from a chandogaya, a punishad, the words,
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  Speaker 1: truly the name of the Brahman is such a verily.
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  Speaker 1: Ye who knows such a thing will enter the heavenly
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  Speaker 1: world every day. Often it seemed near the heavenly world.
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  Speaker 1: But never he had reached it completely. Never he had
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  Speaker 1: quenched the ultimate thirst. And among the wise and wisest
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  Speaker 1: men he knew, and whose instructions he had received, among
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  Speaker 1: all of them, there was no one who had reached
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  Speaker 1: it completely the heavenly world, who had quenched it completely,
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  Speaker 1: the eternal thirst, Govinda said. Arthur spoke to his friend Govinda,
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  Speaker 1: my dear, come with me under the banyan tree. Let's
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  Speaker 1: practice meditation. They went to the banyan tree. They sat down,
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  Speaker 1: Sir Darthur right here, Govinda twenty paces away, while putting
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  Speaker 1: himself down, ready to speak the olm, Si Darthur repeated,
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  Speaker 1: murmuring the verse. Om is the bow, the arrow is soul.
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  Speaker 1: The Brahman is the arrow's target that one should incessantly hit.
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  Speaker 1: After the usual time of the exercise in meditation had passed,
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  Speaker 1: Govinda rose, the evening had come. It was time to
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  Speaker 1: perform the evening's ablution. He called Siddarthur's name. Siddarthur did
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  Speaker 1: not answer. Sadd Arthur sat there, lost in thought. His
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  Speaker 1: eyes were rigidly focussed towards a very distant target. The
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  Speaker 1: tip of his tongue was protruding a little between the teeth.
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  Speaker 1: He seemed not to breathe. Thus sat he wrapped up
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  Speaker 1: in contemplation, thinking, Olm his soul sent after the brahmin
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  Speaker 1: as an arrow. Once Samanas had traveled through Siddartha's town
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  Speaker 1: Esthetics on a pilgrimage, Three skinny withered men, neither old
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  Speaker 1: nor young, with dust, usty and bloody shoulders almost naked,
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  Speaker 1: scorched by the sun, surrounded by loneliness, strangers and enemies
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  Speaker 1: to the world, strangers and lank jackals in the realm
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  Speaker 1: of humans behind them blew a hot scent of quiet passion,
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  Speaker 1: of destructive service, of merciless self denial. In the evening,
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  Speaker 1: after the hour of contemplation, Siddartha spoke to Govinda early
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  Speaker 1: tomorrow morning, my friend Siddarthur will go to the samanas
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  Speaker 1: he will become a Samana. Govinda turned pale when he
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  Speaker 1: heard these words and read the decision in the motionless
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  Speaker 1: face of his friend, unstoppable, like the arrow shot from
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  Speaker 1: the bow. Soon and with the first glance, Govinda realized,
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  Speaker 1: now it is beginning. Now Siddarthur is taking his own way.
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  Speaker 1: Now his fate is beginning to sprout, and with his
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  Speaker 1: my own. And he turned pale like a dry banana skin. Oh,
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  Speaker 1: sir Darthur, he exclaimed, Will your father permit you to
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  Speaker 1: do that? Siddartha looked over as if he was just
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  Speaker 1: waking up arrow fast he read in Govinda's soul, read
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  Speaker 1: the fear, Read the submission, Oh Govinda, he spoke quietly.
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  Speaker 1: Let's not waste words tomorrow at daybreak, I will begin
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  Speaker 1: the life of the samanas. Speak no more of it.
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  Speaker 1: Siddartha entered the chamber where his father was sitting on
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  Speaker 1: a mat of bast and stepped behind his father and
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  Speaker 1: remained standing there until his father felt that someone was
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  Speaker 1: standing behind him. Quoth the Brahmin, is that you said, Arthur?
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  Speaker 1: Then say what you came to say, quoth Siddartha, with
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  Speaker 1: your permission, my father, I came to tell you that
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  Speaker 1: it is my longing to leave your house tomorrow and
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  Speaker 1: go to the esthetics. My desire is to become a Samana.
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  Speaker 1: May my father not oppose this. The brahmin fell silent,
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  Speaker 1: and remained silent for so long that the stars in
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  Speaker 1: the small window wandered and changed their relative positions. Ere
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  Speaker 1: the silence was broken, silent and motionless, stood the son,
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  Speaker 1: with his arms folded, silent and motionless. Sat the father
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  Speaker 1: on the mat, and the stars traced their paths in
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  Speaker 1: the sky. Then spoke the father, not proper is it
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  Speaker 1: for a brahmin to speak harsh and angry words. But
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  Speaker 1: indignation is in my heart. I wish not to hear
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  Speaker 1: this request for a second time from your mouth. Slowly,
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  Speaker 1: the Brahmin rose. Sid Arthur stood silently, his arms folded.
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  Speaker 1: What are you waiting for, asked the father. Quoth Siddartha,
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  Speaker 1: you know what? Indignant, the father left the chamber indignant.
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  Speaker 1: He went to his bed and lay down. After an hour,
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  Speaker 1: since no sleep had come over his eyes, the Brahman
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  Speaker 1: stood up, paced to and fro, and left the house
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  Speaker 1: through the small window of the chamber, he looked back inside,
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  Speaker 1: and there he saw Siddhartha standing, his arms folded, not
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  Speaker 1: moving from his spot. Pale shimmered his bright robe. With
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  Speaker 1: anxiety in his heart, the father returned to his bed
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  Speaker 1: after another hour, since no sleep had come over his eyes,
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  Speaker 1: the Brahman stood up again, paced to and fro, walked
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  Speaker 1: out of the house and saw that the moon had risen.
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  Speaker 1: Through the window of the chamber, he looked back inside.
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  Speaker 1: There stood said Arthur, not moving from his spot, his
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  Speaker 1: arms folded, moonlight reflecting from his bare shins. With worry
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  Speaker 1: in his heart, the father went back to bed, and
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  Speaker 1: he came back after an hour. He came back after
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  Speaker 1: two hours, looked through the small window saw Siddarthur standing
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  Speaker 1: in the moonlight. By the light of the stars in
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  Speaker 1: the darkness, and he came back hour after hour. Silently,
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  Speaker 1: he looked into the chamber, saw him standing in the
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  Speaker 1: same place, filled his heart with anger, filled his heart
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  Speaker 1: with unrest, filled his heart with anguish, filled it with sadness.
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  Speaker 1: And in the night's last hour before the day began,
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  Speaker 1: he returned, stepped into the room, saw the young man
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  Speaker 1: standing there, who seemed tall and like a stranger to him,
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  Speaker 1: sid d Arthur. He spoke, what are you waiting for?
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  Speaker 1: You know what? Will you always stand that way and
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  Speaker 1: wait until it becomes morning, noon and evening. I will
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  Speaker 1: stand and wait. You will become tired, said Arthur. I
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  Speaker 1: will become tired. You will fall asleep, said Arthur. I
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  Speaker 1: will not fall asleep. You will die, said Arthur. I
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  Speaker 1: will die. And would you rather die than obey your father?
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  Speaker 1: Said d Arthur has always obeyed his father, So will
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  Speaker 1: you abandon your plan? Sid d Arthur will do what
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  Speaker 1: his father will tell him to do. The first light
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  Speaker 1: of day shone into the room. The Brahmans saw that
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  Speaker 1: Siddartha was trembling softly in his knees. In Si d
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  Speaker 1: Arthur's face, he saw no trembling. His eyes were fixed
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  Speaker 1: on a distant spot. Then his father realized that he
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  Speaker 1: even now, said Arthur no longer dwelt with him in
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  Speaker 1: his home, that he had already left him. The father
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  Speaker 1: touched said d Arthur's shoulder. You will, he spoke, go
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  Speaker 1: into the forest and be a samana. When you'll have
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  Speaker 1: found blissfulness in the forest, then come back and teach
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  Speaker 1: me to be blissful. If you'll find disappointment, then return
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  Speaker 1: and let us once again make offerings to the gods together.
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  Speaker 1: Go now and kiss your mother, tell her where you
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  Speaker 1: are going. But for me, it is time to go
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  Speaker 1: to the river and to perform the first ablution. He
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  Speaker 1: took his hand from the shoulder of his son and
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  Speaker 1: went outside. SidD Arthur wavered to the side as he
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  Speaker 1: tried to walk. He put his limbs back under control,
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  Speaker 1: bowed to his father, and went to his mother to
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  Speaker 1: do as his father had said. As he slowly left
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  Speaker 1: on stiff legs, in the first light of day the
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  Speaker 1: still quiet town, a shadow rose near the last hut
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  Speaker 1: who had crouched there and joined the pilgrim. Govinda, you
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  Speaker 1: have come, said said Arthur, and smiled. I have come,
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  Speaker 1: said Govinda. End of Chapter one