Kamala

by Hermann Hesse

　　Siddhartha learned something new on every step of his path, for theworld was transformed, and his heart was enchanted. He saw the sunrising over the mountains with their forests and setting over thedistant beach with its palm-trees. At night, he saw the stars in thesky in their fixed positions and the crescent of the moon floating likea boat in the blue. He saw trees, stars, animals, clouds, rainbows,rocks, herbs, flowers, stream and river, the glistening dew in thebushes in the morning, distant hight mountains which were blue andpale, birds sang and bees, wind silverishly blew through the rice-field.All of this, a thousand-fold and colourful, had always been there,always the sun and the moon had shone, always rivers had roared andbees had buzzed, but in former times all of this had been nothing moreto Siddhartha than a fleeting, deceptive veil before his eyes,looked upon in distrust, destined to be penetrated and destroyed bythought, since it was not the essential existence, since this essencelay beyond, on the other side of, the visible. But now, his liberatedeyes stayed on this side, he saw and became aware of the visible, soughtto be at home in this world, did not search for the true essence, didnot aim at a world beyond. Beautiful was this world, looking at it thus,without searching, thus simply, thus childlike. Beautiful were the moonand the stars, beautiful was the stream and the banks, the forest andthe rocks, the goat and the gold-beetle, the flower and the butterfly.Beautiful and lovely it was, thus to walk through the world, thuschildlike, thus awoken, thus open to what is near, thus withoutdistrust. Differently the sun burnt the head, differently the shadeof the forest cooled him down, differently the stream and the cistern,the pumpkin and the banana tasted. Short were the days, short thenights, every hour sped swiftly away like a sail on the sea, and underthe sail was a ship full of treasures, full of joy. Siddhartha saw agroup of apes moving through the high canopy of the forest, high in thebranches, and heard their savage, greedy song. Siddhartha saw a malesheep following a female one and mating with her. In a lake of reeds,he saw the pike hungrily hunting for its dinner; propelling themselvesaway from it, in fear, wiggling and sparkling, the young fish jumped indroves out of the water; the scent of strength and passion cameforcefully out of the hasty eddies of the water, which the pike stirredup, impetuously hunting.All of this had always existed, and he had not seen it; he had not beenwith it. Now he was with it, he was part of it. Light and shadowran through his eyes, stars and moon ran through his heart.On the way, Siddhartha also remembered everything he had experienced inthe Garden Jetavana, the teaching he had heard there, the divine Buddha,the farewell from Govinda, the conversation with the exalted one. Againhe remembered his own words, he had spoken to the exalted one, everyword, and with astonishment he became aware of the fact that there hehad said things which he had not really known yet at this time. What hehad said to Gotama: his, the Buddha's, treasure and secret was not theteachings, but the unexpressable and not teachable, which he hadexperienced in the hour of his enlightenment--it was nothing but thisvery thing which he had now gone to experience, what he now began toexperience. Now, he had to experience his self. It is true that he hadalready known for a long time that his self was Atman, in its essencebearing the same eternal characteristics as Brahman. But never, he hadreally found this self, because he had wanted to capture it in the netof thought. With the body definitely not being the self, and not thespectacle of the senses, so it also was not the thought, not therational mind, not the learned wisdom, not the learned ability to drawconclusions and to develop previous thoughts in to new ones. No, thisworld of thought was also still on this side, and nothing could beachieved by killing the random self of the senses, if the random self ofthoughts and learned knowledge was fattened on the other hand. Both,the thoughts as well as the senses, were pretty things, the ultimatemeaning was hidden behind both of them, both had to be listened to, bothhad to be played with, both neither had to be scorned nor overestimated,from both the secret voices of the innermost truth had to be attentivelyperceived. He wanted to strive for nothing, except for what the voicecommanded him to strive for, dwell on nothing, except where the voicewould advise him to do so. Why had Gotama, at that time, in the hourof all hours, sat down under the bo-tree, where the enlightenment hithim? He had heard a voice, a voice in his own heart, which hadcommanded him to seek rest under this tree, and he had neither preferredself-castigation, offerings, ablutions, nor prayer, neither food nordrink, neither sleep nor dream, he had obeyed the voice. To obey likethis, not to an external command, only to the voice, to be ready likethis, this was good, this was necessary, nothing else was necessary.In the night when he slept in the straw hut of a ferryman by the river,Siddhartha had a dream: Govinda was standing in front of him, dressedin the yellow robe of an ascetic. Sad was how Govinda looked like,sadly he asked: Why have you forsaken me? At this, he embracedGovinda, wrapped his arms around him, and as he was pulling him closeto his chest and kissed him, it was not Govinda any more, but a woman,and a full breast popped out of the woman's dress, at which Siddharthalay and drank, sweetly and strongly tasted the milk from this breast.It tasted of woman and man, of sun and forest, of animal and flower,of every fruit, of every joyful desire. It intoxicated him and renderedhim unconscious.--When Siddhartha woke up, the pale river shimmeredthrough the door of the hut, and in the forest, a dark call of an owlresounded deeply and pleasantly.When the day began, Siddhartha asked his host, the ferryman, to get himacross the river. The ferryman got him across the river on hisbamboo-raft, the wide water shimmered reddishly in the light of themorning."This is a beautiful river," he said to his companion."Yes," said the ferryman, "a very beautiful river, I love it more thananything. Often I have listened to it, often I have looked into itseyes, and always I have learned from it. Much can be learned from ariver.""I than you, my benefactor," spoke Siddhartha, disembarking on the otherside of the river. "I have no gift I could give you for yourhospitality, my dear, and also no payment for your work. I am a manwithout a home, a son of a Brahman and a Samana.""I did see it," spoke the ferryman, "and I haven't expected any paymentfrom you and no gift which would be the custom for guests to bear. Youwill give me the gift another time.""Do you think so?" asked Siddhartha amusedly."Surely. This too, I have learned from the river: everything is comingback! You too, Samana, will come back. Now farewell! Let yourfriendship be my reward. Commemorate me, when you'll make offerings tothe gods."Smiling, they parted. Smiling, Siddhartha was happy about thefriendship and the kindness of the ferryman. "He is like Govinda," hethought with a smile, "all I meet on my path are like Govinda. All arethankful, though they are the ones who would have a right to receivethanks. All are submissive, all would like to be friends, like toobey, think little. Like children are all people."At about noon, he came through a village. In front of the mud cottages,children were rolling about in the street, were playing withpumpkin-seeds and sea-shells, screamed and wrestled, but they alltimidly fled from the unknown Samana. In the end of the village, thepath led through a stream, and by the side of the stream, a youngwoman was kneeling and washing clothes. When Siddhartha greeted her,she lifted her head and looked up to him with a smile, so that he sawthe white in her eyes glistening. He called out a blessing to her, asit is the custom among travellers, and asked how far he still had to goto reach the large city. Then she got up and came to him, beautifullyher wet mouth was shimmering in her young face. She exchanged humorousbanter with him, asked whether he had eaten already, and whether it wastrue that the Samanas slept alone in the forest at night and were notallowed to have any women with them. While talking, she put her leftfoot on his right one and made a movement as a woman does who would wantto initiate that kind of sexual pleasure with a man, which the textbookscall "climbing a tree". Siddhartha felt his blood heating up, and sincein this moment he had to think of his dream again, he bend slightlydown to the woman and kissed with his lips the brown nipple of herbreast. Looking up, he saw her face smiling full of lust and hereyes, with contracted pupils, begging with desire.Siddhartha also felt desire and felt the source of his sexuality moving;but since he had never touched a woman before, he hesitated for amoment, while his hands were already prepared to reach out for her. Andin this moment he heard, shuddering with awe, the voice if his innermostself, and this voice said No. Then, all charms disappeared from theyoung woman's smiling face, he no longer saw anything else but the dampglance of a female animal in heat. Politely, he petted her cheek,turned away from her and disappeared away from the disappointed womanwith light steps into the bamboo-wood.On this day, he reached the large city before the evening, and washappy, for he felt the need to be among people. For a long time, hehad lived in the forests, and the straw hut of the ferryman, in whichhe had slept that night, had been the first roof for a long time he hashad over his head.Before the city, in a beautifully fenced grove, the traveller cameacross a small group of servants, both male and female, carryingbaskets. In their midst, carried by four servants in an ornamentalsedan-chair, sat a woman, the mistress, on red pillows under a colourfulcanopy. Siddhartha stopped at the entrance to the pleasure-garden andwatched the parade, saw the servants, the maids, the baskets, saw thesedan-chair and saw the lady in it. Under black hair, which made totower high on her head, he saw a very fair, very delicate, very smartface, a brightly red mouth, like a freshly cracked fig, eyebrows whichwere well tended and painted in a high arch, smart and watchful darkeyes, a clear, tall neck rising from a green and golden garment, restingfair hands, long and thin, with wide golden bracelets over the wrists.Siddhartha saw how beautiful she was, and his heart rejoiced. He boweddeeply, when the sedan-chair came closer, and straightening up again,he looked at the fair, charming face, read for a moment in the smarteyes with the high arcs above, breathed in a slight fragrant, he didnot know. With a smile, the beautiful women nodded for a moment anddisappeared into the grove, and then the servant as well.Thus I am entering this city, Siddhartha thought, with a charming omen.He instantly felt drawn into the grove, but he thought about it, andonly now he became aware of how the servants and maids had looked at himat the entrance, how despicable, how distrustful, how rejecting.I am still a Samana, he thought, I am still an ascetic and beggar. Imust not remain like this, I will not be able to enter the grove likethis. And he laughed.The next person who came along this path he asked about the grove andfor the name of the woman, and was told that this was the grove ofKamala, the famous courtesan, and that, aside from the grove, she owneda house in the city.Then, he entered the city. Now he had a goal.Pursuing his goal, he allowed the city to suck him in, drifted throughthe flow of the streets, stood still on the squares, rested on thestairs of stone by the river. When the evening came, he made friendswith barber's assistant, whom he had seen working in the shade of anarch in a building, whom he found again praying in a temple of Vishnu,whom he told about stories of Vishnu and the Lakshmi. Among the boatsby the river, he slept this night, and early in the morning, before thefirst customers came into his shop, he had the barber's assistant shavehis beard and cut his hair, comb his hair and anoint it with fine oil.Then he went to take his bath in the river.When late in the afternoon, beautiful Kamala approached her grove in hersedan-chair, Siddhartha was standing at the entrance, made a bow andreceived the courtesan's greeting. But that servant who walked at thevery end of her train he motioned to him and asked him to inform hismistress that a young Brahman would wish to talk to her. After a while,the servant returned, asked him, who had been waiting, to follow himconducted him, who was following him, without a word into a pavilion,where Kamala was lying on a couch, and left him alone with her."Weren't you already standing out there yesterday, greeting me?" askedKamala."It's true that I've already seen and greeted you yesterday.""But didn't you yesterday wear a beard, and long hair, and dust in yourhair?""You have observed well, you have seen everything. You have seenSiddhartha, the son of a Brahman, who has left his home to become aSamana, and who has been a Samana for three years. But now, I haveleft that path and came into this city, and the first one I met, evenbefore I had entered the city, was you. To say this, I have come toyou, oh Kamala! You are the first woman whom Siddhartha is notaddressing with his eyes turned to the ground. Never again I want toturn my eyes to the ground, when I'm coming across a beautiful woman."Kamala smiled and played with her fan of peacocks' feathers. And asked:"And only to tell me this, Siddhartha has come to me?""To tell you this and to thank you for being so beautiful. And if itdoesn't displease you, Kamala, I would like to ask you to be my friendand teacher, for I know nothing yet of that art which you have masteredin the highest degree."At this, Kamala laughed aloud."Never before this has happened to me, my friend, that a Samana from theforest came to me and wanted to learn from me! Never before this hashappened to me, that a Samana came to me with long hair and an old, tornloin-cloth! Many young men come to me, and there are also sons ofBrahmans among them, but they come in beautiful clothes, they come infine shoes, they have perfume in their hair and money in their pouches.This is, oh Samana, how the young men are like who come to me."Quoth Siddhartha: "Already I am starting to learn from you. Evenyesterday, I was already learning. I have already taken off my beard,have combed the hair, have oil in my hair. There is little which isstill missing in me, oh excellent one: fine clothes, fine shoes, moneyin my pouch. You shall know, Siddhartha has set harder goals forhimself than such trifles, and he has reached them. How shouldn't Ireach that goal, which I have set for myself yesterday: to be yourfriend and to learn the joys of love from you! You'll see that I'lllearn quickly, Kamala, I have already learned harder things than whatyou're supposed to teach me. And now let's get to it: You aren'tsatisfied with Siddhartha as he is, with oil in his hair, but withoutclothes, without shoes, without money?"Laughing, Kamala exclaimed: "No, my dear, he doesn't satisfy me yet.Clothes are what he must have, pretty clothes, and shoes, pretty shoes,and lots of money in his pouch, and gifts for Kamala. Do you know itnow, Samana from the forest? Did you mark my words?""Yes, I have marked your words," Siddhartha exclaimed. "How should Inot mark words which are coming from such a mouth! Your mouth is likea freshly cracked fig, Kamala. My mouth is red and fresh as well, itwill be a suitable match for yours, you'll see.--But tell me, beautifulKamala, aren't you at all afraid of the Samana from the forest, who hascome to learn how to make love?""Whatever for should I be afraid of a Samana, a stupid Samana from theforest, who is coming from the jackals and doesn't even know yet whatwomen are?""Oh, he's strong, the Samana, and he isn't afraid of anything. He couldforce you, beautiful girl. He could kidnap you. He could hurt you.""No, Samana, I am not afraid of this. Did any Samana or Brahman everfear, someone might come and grab him and steal his learning, and hisreligious devotion, and his depth of thought? No, for they are his veryown, and he would only give away from those whatever he is willing togive and to whomever he is willing to give. Like this it is, preciselylike this it is also with Kamala and with the pleasures of love.Beautiful and red is Kamala's mouth, but just try to kiss it againstKamala's will, and you will not obtain a single drop of sweetness fromit, which knows how to give so many sweet things! You are learningeasily, Siddhartha, thus you should also learn this: love can beobtained by begging, buying, receiving it as a gift, finding it in thestreet, but it cannot be stolen. In this, you have come up with thewrong path. No, it would be a pity, if a pretty young man like youwould want to tackle it in such a wrong manner."Siddhartha bowed with a smile. "It would be a pity, Kamala, you are soright! It would be such a great pity. No, I shall not lose a singledrop of sweetness from your mouth, nor you from mine! So it is settled:Siddhartha will return, once he'll have have what he still lacks:clothes, shoes, money. But speak, lovely Kamala, couldn't you stillgive me one small advice?""An advice? Why not? Who wouldn't like to give an advice to a poor,ignorant Samana, who is coming from the jackals of the forest?""Dear Kamala, thus advise me where I should go to, that I'll find thesethree things most quickly?""Friend, many would like to know this. You must do what you've learnedand ask for money, clothes, and shoes in return. There is no other wayfor a poor man to obtain money. What might you be able to do?""I can think. I can wait. I can fast.""Nothing else?""Nothing. But yes, I can also write poetry. Would you like to give mea kiss for a poem?""I would like to, if I'll like your poem. What would be its title?"Siddhartha spoke, after he had thought about it for a moment, theseverses:Into her shady grove stepped the pretty Kamala,At the grove's entrance stood the brown Samana.Deeply, seeing the lotus's blossom,Bowed that man, and smiling Kamala thanked.More lovely, thought the young man, than offerings for gods,More lovely is offering to pretty Kamala.Kamala loudly clapped her hands, so that the golden bracelets clanged."Beautiful are your verses, oh brown Samana, and truly, I'm losingnothing when I'm giving you a kiss for them."She beckoned him with her eyes, he tilted his head so that his facetouched hers and placed his mouth on that mouth which was like afreshly cracked fig. For a long time, Kamala kissed him, and with adeep astonishment Siddhartha felt how she taught him, how wise she was,how she controlled him, rejected him, lured him, and how after this firstone there was to be a long, a well ordered, well tested sequence ofkisses, everyone different from the others, he was still to receive.Breathing deeply, he remained standing where he was, and was in thismoment astonished like a child about the cornucopia of knowledge andthings worth learning, which revealed itself before his eyes."Very beautiful are your verses," exclaimed Kamala, "if I was rich, Iwould give you pieces of gold for them. But it will be difficult foryou to earn thus much money with verses as you need. For you need a lotof money, if you want to be Kamala's friend.""The way you're able to kiss, Kamala!" stammered Siddhartha."Yes, this I am able to do, therefore I do not lack clothes, shoes,bracelets, and all beautiful things. But what will become of you?Aren't you able to do anything else but thinking, fasting, makingpoetry?""I also know the sacrificial songs," said Siddhartha, "but I do not wantto sing them any more. I also know magic spells, but I do not want tospeak them any more. I have read the scriptures--""Stop," Kamala interrupted him. "You're able to read? And write?""Certainly, I can do this. Many people can do this.""Most people can't. I also can't do it. It is very good that you'reable to read and write, very good. You will also still find use forthe magic spells."In this moment, a maid came running in and whispered a message intoher mistress's ear."There's a visitor for me," exclaimed Kamala. "Hurry and get yourselfaway, Siddhartha, nobody may see you in here, remember this! Tomorrow,I'll see you again."But to the maid she gave the order to give the pious Brahman whiteupper garments. Without fully understanding what was happening to him,Siddhartha found himself being dragged away by the maid, brought intoa garden-house avoiding the direct path, being given upper garments as agift, led into the bushes, and urgently admonished to get himself out ofthe grove as soon as possible without being seen.Contently, he did as he had been told. Being accustomed to the forest,he managed to get out of the grove and over the hedge without making asound. Contently, he returned to the city, carrying the rolled upgarments under his arm. At the inn, where travellers stay, hepositioned himself by the door, without words he asked for food, withouta word he accepted a piece of rice-cake. Perhaps as soon as tomorrow,he thought, I will ask no one for food any more.Suddenly, pride flared up in him. He was no Samana any more, it was nolonger becoming to him to beg. He gave the rice-cake to a dog andremained without food."Simple is the life which people lead in this world here," thoughtSiddhartha. "It presents no difficulties. Everything was difficult,toilsome, and ultimately hopeless, when I was still a Samana. Now,everything is easy, easy like that lessons in kissing, which Kamala isgiving me. I need clothes and money, nothing else; this a small, neargoals, they won't make a person lose any sleep."He had already discovered Kamala's house in the city long before, therehe turned up the following day."Things are working out well," she called out to him. "They areexpecting you at Kamaswami's, he is the richest merchant of the city.If he'll like you, he'll accept you into his service. Be smart, brownSamana. I had others tell him about you. Be polite towards him, he isvery powerful. But don't be too modest! I do not want you to becomehis servant, you shall become his equal, or else I won't be satisfiedwith you. Kamaswami is starting to get old and lazy. If he'll likeyou, he'll entrust you with a lot."Siddhartha thanked her and laughed, and when she found out that he hadnot eaten anything yesterday and today, she sent for bread and fruitsand treated him to it."You've been lucky," she said when they parted, "I'm opening one doorafter another for you. How come? Do you have a spell?"Siddhartha said: "Yesterday, I told you I knew how to think, to wait,and to fast, but you thought this was of no use. But it is useful formany things, Kamala, you'll see. You'll see that the stupid Samanas arelearning and able to do many pretty things in the forest, which thelikes of you aren't capable of. The day before yesterday, I was still ashaggy beggar, as soon as yesterday I have kissed Kamala, and soon I'llbe a merchant and have money and all those things you insist upon.""Well yes," she admitted. "But where would you be without me? Whatwould you be, if Kamala wasn't helping you?""Dear Kamala," said Siddhartha and straightened up to his full height,"when I came to you into your grove, I did the first step. It was myresolution to learn love from this most beautiful woman. From thatmoment on when I had made this resolution, I also knew that I wouldcarry it out. I knew that you would help me, at your first glance atthe entrance of the grove I already knew it.""But what if I hadn't been willing?""You were willing. Look, Kamala: When you throw a rock into the water,it will speed on the fastest course to the bottom of the water. Thisis how it is when Siddhartha has a goal, a resolution. Siddhartha doesnothing, he waits, he thinks, he fasts, but he passes through the thingsof the world like a rock through water, without doing anything, withoutstirring; he is drawn, he lets himself fall. His goal attracts him,because he doesn't let anything enter his soul which might oppose thegoal. This is what Siddhartha has learned among the Samanas. This iswhat fools call magic and of which they think it would be effected bymeans of the daemons. Nothing is effected by daemons, there are nodaemons. Everyone can perform magic, everyone can reach his goals, ifhe is able to think, if he is able to wait, if he is able to fast."Kamala listened to him. She loved his voice, she loved the look fromhis eyes."Perhaps it is so," she said quietly, "as you say, friend. But perhapsit is also like this: that Siddhartha is a handsome man, that his glancepleases the women, that therefore good fortune is coming towards him."With one kiss, Siddhartha bid his farewell. "I wish that it should bethis way, my teacher; that my glance shall please you, that alwaysgood fortune shall come to me out of your direction!"