Siddhartha

by Hermann Hesse

It has come to you in the course of your own search, on your own path, through thoughts, through meditation, through realization, through enlightenment. It has not come to you by means of teachings!

But there is one thing which these lucid and honorable teachings do not contain: they do not contain the mystery of what the exalted one alone among hundreds of thousands has experienced for himself.

This is why I am continuing my travels—not to seek other, better teachings, for I know there aren’t any, but to depart from all teachings and all teachers and either to reach my goal on my own or to die.

It is not my place to judge another person’s life. Only for myself, for myself alone, must I pass judgment, choose, or reject.

“I saw a person,” Siddhartha thought, “a single one before whom I had to lower my glance. I do not want to lower my glance before any other, not before any other. No teachings will entice me any more, since this man’s teachings have not enticed me.

“How should I not mark words that come from such a mouth! Your mouth is like a freshly cracked fig, Kamala. My mouth is red and fresh as well; it will be a suitable match for yours, you’ll see. But tell me, beautiful Kamala, do you not have any fear of the Samana from the forest who has come here to learn love?”

Kamala’s mouth is beautiful and red, but just try to kiss it against Kamala’s will, and you will not obtain a single drop of sweetness from that which knows how to give so many sweet things!

this: love can be obtained by begging, buying, receiving it as a gift, or finding it in the street, but it cannot be stolen.

“You were willing. Look, Kamala, when you throw a rock into the water, it hurries on the fastest course to the bottom of the water. This is how it is when Siddhartha has a goal, a resolution. Siddhartha does nothing: he waits, he thinks, he fasts, but he passes through the things of the world like a rock through water, without doing anything, without stirring. He is drawn; he lets himself fall. His goal attracts him because he doesn’t let anything enter his soul which might oppose the goal.

people. He learned to enjoy himself with a woman, how to wear beautiful clothes, give orders to servants, and bathe in perfumed waters. He had learned how to eat food that was tenderly and carefully prepared—even fish, meat, poultry, spices, and sweets. He learned to drink wine, which causes laziness and forgetfulness. He had learned how to play dice and chess, how to watch dancing girls, how to sleep on a soft bed, and how to be carried about in a sedan-chair. However, he still felt different from and superior to the others; he always watched them with a certain amount of ridicule, with mocking disdain, and the same contempt that a Samana constantly feels for the people

The name of this game was Samsara, a game for children, which was enjoyable to play perhaps once, twice, or ten times—but again and again for ever and ever?

Who kept Siddhartha the Samana safe from Samsara, sin, greed, and foolishness? Were his father’s religious devotion, his teacher’s warnings, his own knowledge, or his own seeking able to keep him safe? Which father or teacher was able to protect him from living his life for himself, soiling himself with life, burdening himself with guilt, drinking the bitter drink for himself, or finding this path for himself? Do you think, my friend, that anyone is spared from this path? That, perhaps, your little son would be spared because you love him and want to keep him from suffering, pain, and disappointment?

‘When someone is searching,” said Siddhartha, “then it can easily happen that the only thing his eyes see is that for which he is searching. He is then unable to find anything or let any thought enter his mind because he always thinks of nothing but the object of his search. He is obsessed by a goal; searching means having a goal. But finding means: being free, open, and having no goal. You, oh venerable one, are perhaps indeed a seeker, because, in striving for your goal, there are many things that you don’t see, even though they are right in front of your eyes.”

See here, Govinda, this is one of the thoughts that I’ve found: wisdom cannot be passed on. Wisdom that a wise man attempts to pass on to someone always sounds like foolishness.”

“I’m not joking; I’m telling you what I’ve found. Knowledge can be transferred, but not wisdom. It can be found and lived, and it is possible to be carried by it. Miracles can be performed with it, but it can’t be expressed and taught with words.