“Why did you take the axe along?” asked Siddhartha.
Vasudeva said, “It might have been possible that the oar of our boat got lost.”
But Siddhartha knew what his friend was thinking. He thought, the boy would have thrown away or broken the oar in order to get even and in order to keep them from following him. And in fact, there was no oar left in the boat.
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smile, as if he wanted to say, “Don’t you see what your son is trying to tell you? Don’t you see that he doesn’t want to be followed?” But he did not say this in words. He started making a new oar. But Siddhartha bid his farewell, to look for the run-away. Vasudeva did not stop him.
When Siddhartha had already been walking through the forest for a long time, the thought occurred to him that his search was useless. Either, so he thought, the boy was far ahead and had already reached the city, or, if he should still be on his way, he would conceal himself from him, the pursuer. As he continued thinking, he also found that he, on his part, was not worried for his son, that he knew deep inside that he had neither perished nor was in any danger in the forest. Nevertheless, he ran without stopping, no longer to save him, just to satisfy his desire, just to perhaps see him one more time. And he ran up to just outside of the city.
When, near the city, he reached a wide road, he stopped, by the entrance of the beautiful pleasure-garden, which used to belong to Kamala, where he had seen her for the first time in her sedan-chair. The past rose up in his soul, again he saw himself standing there, young, a bearded, naked Samana, the hair full of dust. For a long time, Siddhartha stood there and looked through the open gate into the garden, seeing monks in yellow robes walking among the beautiful trees.
For a long time, he stood there, pondering, seeing images, listening to the story of his life. For a long time, he stood there, looked at the monks, saw young Siddhartha in their place, saw young Kamala walking among the high trees. Clearly, he saw himself being served food and drink by Kamala, receiving his first kiss from her, looking proudly and disdainfully back on his Brahminism, beginning proudly and full of desire his worldly life. He saw, the servants, the orgies, the gamblers with the dice, the musicians, saw Kamala’s song-bird in the cage, lived through all this once again, breathed Sansara, was once again old and tired, felt once again disgust, felt once again the wish to annihilate himself, was once again healed by the holy Om.
After standing by the gate of the garden for a long time, Siddhartha realised that his desire was foolish, which had made him go up to this place, that he could not help his son, that he was not allowed to cling him. Deeply, he felt the love for the run-away in his heart, like a wound, and he felt at the same time that this wound had not been given to him in order to turn the knife in it, that it had to become a blossom and had to shine.
That this wound did not blossom yet, did not shine yet, at this hour, made him sad. Instead of the desired goal, which had drawn him here following the runaway son, there was now emptiness. Sadly, he sat down, felt something dying in his heart, experienced emptiness, saw no joy any more, no goal. He sat lost in thought and waited. This he had learned by the river, this one thing: waiting, having patience, listening attentively. And he sat and listened, in the dust of the road, listened to his heart, beating tiredly and sadly, waited for Siddhartha: An Open-Source Text
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a voice. Many an hour he crouched, listening, saw no images any more, fell into emptiness, let himself fall, without seeing a path. And when he felt the wound burning, he silently spoke the Om, filled himself with Om. The monks in the garden saw him, and since he crouched for many hours, and dust was gathering on his gray hair, one of them came to him and placed two bananas in front of him. The old man did not see him.
From the reading. . .
“One day, the river shall also talk to him, he also is called upon.”
From this petrified state, he was awoken by a hand touching his shoulder.
Instantly, he recognised this touch, this tender, bashful touch, and regained his senses. He rose and greeted Vasudeva, who had followed him. And when he looked into Vasudeva’s friendly face, into the small wrinkles, which were as if they were filled with nothing but his smile, into the happy eyes, then he smiled too. Now he saw the bananas lying in front of him, picked them up, gave one to the ferryman, ate the other one himself. After this, he silently went back into the forest with Vasudeva, returned home to the ferry. Neither one talked about what had happened today, neither one mentioned the boy’s name, neither one spoke about him running away, neither one spoke about the wound. In the hut, Siddhartha lay down on his bed, and when after a while Vasudeva came to him, to offer him a bowl of coconut-milk, he already found him asleep.
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Palace Jaali, Govind Mandir Palace, ©Shishir Thadani Topics Worth Investigating
1. Evaluate the idea suggested in this chapter that by seeking to change another person’s mistakes, we limit that person’s resourcefulness in dealing with future problems. By seeking to help others, we often make things Siddhartha: An Open-Source Text
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worse.
2. With Siddhartha’s love for his son, he became like the childlike people.
Discuss whether or not human love is Sansara? Are not human love im-permanent and one manifestation of tanha or desire? Is the compassion of Buddha just a form of “impersonal” love?
3. Would you agree that Siddhartha’s most difficult task is to realize his son must find his own path? Analyze Siddhartha’s dilemma of child-rearing. Would Barbara Coloroso’s advice been of any help to Siddhartha in altering the son’s karma?
Strong-willed children are never easily led by anybody—not by you, but also not by their peers. So celebrate your child’s strength of will throughout the early years . . . and know that the independent thinking you are fostering will serve him well in the critical years to come.1
Trace out the probable consequences of Siddhartha’s encouraging his son’s independent thinking. What would be the difference in Siddhartha’s son’s karma? Is it possible for one person to affect another person’s karma?
4. In a sense, Vasudeva’s clairity of mind allows him to intuit the “lost” oar.
His thought is not clouded by personal expectations and desires. Discuss how the ability to forsee the inevitability of certain circumstances seems magical but is actually a product of awareness. Consider, as well, C. G.
Jung’s description of the intuitive temperament:
Introverted intuition apprehends the images arising from the a priori foundations of the unconscious. . . In these archetypes, therefore, all experiences are represented which have happened on this planet since primeval times. The more frequent and the more intense they were, the more clearly focused they become in the archetype.
. . . introverted intuition, through its perception of these inner processes, can supply certain data which may be of the utmost importance for understanding what is going on in the world. It can even forsee new possibilities in more or less clear outline, as well as events which later actually do happen.
Its prophetic foresight is explained by its relation to the archetypes, which represent the laws governing the course of all experienceable things.2
Is the capacity for an intuitive understanding of the world a necessary condition for compassion and, eventually, enlightenment?
