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05 - Kamala - Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse · Sacred Texts Archive

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