In the town of Savathi, every child
knew the name of the exalted Buddha, and every house
was prepared to fill the alms-dish of Gotama’s
disciples, the silently begging ones. Near the
town was Gotama’s favourite place to stay, the
grove of Jetavana, which the rich merchant Anathapindika,
an obedient worshipper of the exalted one, had given
him and his people for a gift.
All tales and answers, which the two
young ascetics had received in their search for Gotama’s
abode, had pointed them towards this area. And
arriving at Savathi, in the very first house, before
the door of which they stopped to beg, food has been
offered to them, and they accepted the food, and Siddhartha
asked the woman, who handed them the food:
“We would like to know, oh charitable
one, where the Buddha dwells, the most venerable one,
for we are two Samanas from the forest and have come,
to see him, the perfected one, and to hear the teachings
from his mouth.”
Quoth the woman: “Here,
you have truly come to the right place, you Samanas
from the forest. You should know, in Jetavana,
in the garden of Anathapindika is where the exalted
one dwells. There you pilgrims shall spent the
night, for there is enough space for the innumerable,
who flock here, to hear the teachings from his mouth.”
This made Govinda happy, and full
of joy he exclaimed: “Well so, thus we
have reached our destination, and our path has come
to an end! But tell us, oh mother of the pilgrims,
do you know him, the Buddha, have you seen him with
your own eyes?”
Quoth the woman: “Many
times I have seen him, the exalted one. On many
days, I have seen him, walking through the alleys in
silence, wearing his yellow cloak, presenting his
alms-dish in silence at the doors of the houses, leaving
with a filled dish.”
Delightedly, Govinda listened and
wanted to ask and hear much more. But Siddhartha
urged him to walk on. They thanked and left and
hardly had to ask for directions, for rather many
pilgrims and monks as well from Gotama’s community
were on their way to the Jetavana. And since
they reached it at night, there were constant arrivals,
shouts, and talk of those who sought shelter and got
it. The two Samanas, accustomed to life in the
forest, found quickly and without making any noise
a place to stay and rested there until the morning.
At sunrise, they saw with astonishment
what a large crowd of believers and curious people
had spent the night here. On all paths of the
marvellous grove, monks walked in yellow robes, under
the trees they sat here and there, in deep contemplation or
in a conversation about spiritual matters, the shady
gardens looked like a city, full of people, bustling
like bees. The majority of the monks went out
with their alms-dish, to collect food in town for
their lunch, the only meal of the day. The Buddha
himself, the enlightened one, was also in the habit
of taking this walk to beg in the morning.
Siddhartha saw him, and he instantly
recognised him, as if a god had pointed him out to
him. He saw him, a simple man in a yellow robe,
bearing the alms-dish in his hand, walking silently.
“Look here!” Siddhartha
said quietly to Govinda. “This one is the
Buddha.”
Attentively, Govinda looked at the
monk in the yellow robe, who seemed to be in no way
different from the hundreds of other monks. And
soon, Govinda also realized: This is the one.
And they followed him and observed him.
The Buddha went on his way, modestly
and deep in his thoughts, his calm face was neither
happy nor sad, it seemed to smile quietly and inwardly.
With a hidden smile, quiet, calm, somewhat resembling
a healthy child, the Buddha walked, wore the robe
and placed his feet just as all of his monks did,
according to a precise rule. But his face and
his walk, his quietly lowered glance, his quietly dangling
hand and even every finger of his quietly dangling
hand expressed peace, expressed perfection, did not
search, did not imitate, breathed softly in an unwhithering
calm, in an unwhithering light, an untouchable peace.
Thus Gotama walked towards the town,
to collect alms, and the two Samanas recognised him
solely by the perfection of his calm, by the quietness
of his appearance, in which there was no searching,
no desire, no imitation, no effort to be seen, only
light and peace.
“Today, we’ll hear the
teachings from his mouth.” said Govinda.
Siddhartha did not answer. He
felt little curiosity for the teachings, he did not
believe that they would teach him anything new, but
he had, just as Govinda had, heard the contents of
this Buddha’s teachings again and again, though
these reports only represented second- or third-hand
information. But attentively he looked at Gotama’s
head, his shoulders, his feet, his quietly dangling
hand, and it seemed to him as if every joint of every
finger of this hand was of these teachings, spoke
of, breathed of, exhaled the fragrant of, glistened
of truth. This man, this Buddha was truthful
down to the gesture of his last finger. This
man was holy. Never before, Siddhartha had venerated
a person so much, never before he had loved a person
as much as this one.
They both followed the Buddha until
they reached the town and then returned in silence,
for they themselves intended to abstain from on this
day. They saw Gotama returning what
he ate could not even have satisfied a bird’s
appetite, and they saw him retiring into the shade
of the mango-trees.
But in the evening, when the heat
cooled down and everyone in the camp started to bustle
about and gathered around, they heard the Buddha teaching.
They heard his voice, and it was also perfected, was
of perfect calmness, was full of peace. Gotama
taught the teachings of suffering, of the origin of
suffering, of the way to relieve suffering. Calmly
and clearly his quiet speech flowed on. Suffering
was life, full of suffering was the world, but salvation
from suffering had been found: salvation was
obtained by him who would walk the path of the Buddha.
With a soft, yet firm voice the exalted one spoke,
taught the four main doctrines, taught the eightfold
path, patiently he went the usual path of the teachings,
of the examples, of the repetitions, brightly and
quietly his voice hovered over the listeners, like
a light, like a starry sky.
When the Buddha night had
already fallen ended his speech, many a
pilgrim stepped forward and asked to accepted into
the community, sought refuge in the teachings.
And Gotama accepted them by speaking: “You
have heard the teachings well, it has come to you well.
Thus join us and walk in holiness, to put an end
to all suffering.”
Behold, then Govinda, the shy one,
also stepped forward and spoke: “I also
take my refuge in the exalted one and his teachings,”
and he asked to accepted into the community of his
disciples and was accepted.
Right afterwards, when the Buddha
had retired for the night, Govinda turned to Siddhartha
and spoke eagerly: “Siddhartha, it is not
my place to scold you. We have both heard the
exalted one, we have both perceived the teachings.
Govinda has heard the teachings, he has taken refuge
in it. But you, my honoured friend, don’t
you also want to walk the path of salvation?
Would you want to hesitate, do you want to wait any
longer?”
Siddhartha awakened as if he had been
asleep, when he heard Govinda’s words.
For a long tome, he looked into Govinda’s face.
Then he spoke quietly, in a voice without mockery:
“Govinda, my friend, now you have taken this
step, now you have chosen this path. Always,
oh Govinda, you’ve been my friend, you’ve
always walked one step behind me. Often I have
thought: Won’t Govinda for once also take
a step by himself, without me, out of his own soul?
Behold, now you’ve turned into a man and are
choosing your path for yourself. I wish that
you would go it up to its end, oh my friend, that
you shall find salvation!”
Govinda, not completely understanding
it yet, repeated his question in an impatient tone:
“Speak up, I beg you, my dear! Tell me,
since it could not be any other way, that you also,
my learned friend, will take your refuge with the
exalted Buddha!”
Siddhartha placed his hand on Govinda’s
shoulder: “You failed to hear my good
wish for you, oh Govinda. I’m repeating
it: I wish that you would go this path up to
its end, that you shall find salvation!”
In this moment, Govinda realized that
his friend had left him, and he started to weep.
“Siddhartha!” he exclaimed lamentingly.
Siddhartha kindly spoke to him:
“Don’t forget, Govinda, that you are
now one of the Samanas of the Buddha! You have
renounced your home and your parents, renounced your
birth and possessions, renounced your free will, renounced
all friendship. This is what the teachings require,
this is what the exalted one wants. This is what
you wanted for yourself. Tomorrow, oh Govinda,
I’ll leave you.”
For a long time, the friends continued
walking in the grove; for a long time, they lay there
and found no sleep. And over and over again,
Govinda urged his friend, he should tell him why he
would not want to seek refuge in Gotama’s teachings,
what fault he would find in these teachings.
But Siddhartha turned him away every time and said:
“Be content, Govinda! Very good are the
teachings of the exalted one, how could I find a fault
in them?”
Very early in the morning, a follower
of Buddha, one of his oldest monks, went through the
garden and called all those to him who had as novices
taken their refuge in the teachings, to dress them
up in the yellow robe and to instruct them in the
first teachings and duties of their position.
Then Govinda broke loose, embraced once again his
childhood friend and left with the novices.
But Siddhartha walked through the grove, lost in thought.
Then he happened to meet Gotama, the
exalted one, and when he greeted him with respect
and the Buddha’s glance was so full of kindness
and calm, the young man summoned his courage and asked
the venerable one for the permission to talk to him.
Silently the exalted one nodded his approval.
Quoth Siddhartha: “Yesterday,
oh exalted one, I had been privileged to hear your
wondrous teachings. Together with my friend,
I had come from afar, to hear your teachings.
And now my friend is going to stay with your people,
he has taken his refuge with you. But I will
again start on my pilgrimage.”
“As you please,” the venerable one spoke
politely.
“Too bold is my speech,”
Siddhartha continued, “but I do not want to
leave the exalted one without having honestly told
him my thoughts. Does it please the venerable
one to listen to me for one moment longer?”
Silently, the Buddha nodded his approval.
Quoth Siddhartha: “One
thing, oh most venerable one, I have admired in your
teachings most of all. Everything in your teachings
is perfectly clear, is proven; you are presenting
the world as a perfect chain, a chain which is never
and nowhere broken, an eternal chain the links of
which are causes and effects. Never before, this
has been seen so clearly; never before, this has been
presented so irrefutably; truly, the heart of every
Brahman has to beat stronger with love, once he has
seen the world through your teachings perfectly connected,
without gaps, clear as a crystal, not depending on
chance, not depending on gods. Whether it may
be good or bad, whether living according to it would
be suffering or joy, I do not wish to discuss, possibly
this is not essential but the uniformity
of the world, that everything which happens is connected,
that the great and the small things are all encompassed
by the same forces of time, by the same law of causes,
of coming into being and of dying, this is what shines
brightly out of your exalted teachings, oh perfected
one. But according to your very own teachings,
this unity and necessary sequence of all things is
nevertheless broken in one place, through a small gap,
this world of unity is invaded by something alien,
something new, something which had not been there
before, and which cannot be demonstrated and cannot
be proven: these are your teachings of overcoming
the world, of salvation. But with this small
gap, with this small breach, the entire eternal and
uniform law of the world is breaking apart again and
becomes void. Please forgive me for expressing
this objection.”
Quietly, Gotama had listened to him,
unmoved. Now he spoke, the perfected one, with
his kind, with his polite and clear voice: “You’ve
heard the teachings, oh son of a Brahman, and good
for you that you’ve thought about it thus deeply.
You’ve found a gap in it, an error. You
should think about this further. But be warned,
oh seeker of knowledge, of the thicket of opinions
and of arguing about words. There is nothing
to opinions, they may be beautiful or ugly, smart or
foolish, everyone can support them or discard them.
But the teachings, you’ve heard from me, are
no opinion, and their goal is not to explain the world
to those who seek knowledge. They have a different
goal; their goal is salvation from suffering.
This is what Gotama teaches, nothing else.”
“I wish that you, oh exalted
one, would not be angry with me,” said the young
man. “I have not spoken to you like this
to argue with you, to argue about words. You
are truly right, there is little to opinions.
But let me say this one more thing: I have not
doubted in you for a single moment. I have not
doubted for a single moment that you are Buddha, that
you have reached the goal, the highest goal towards
which so many thousands of Brahmáns and sons
of Brahmáns are on their way. You have found
salvation from death. It has come to you in the
course of your own search, on your own path, through
thoughts, through meditation, through realizations,
through enlightenment. It has not come to you
by means of teachings! And thus is
my thought, oh exalted one, nobody will
obtain salvation by means of teachings! You will
not be able to convey and say to anybody, oh venerable
one, in words and through teachings what has happened
to you in the hour of enlightenment! The teachings
of the enlightened Buddha contain much, it teaches
many to live righteously, to avoid evil. But
there is one thing which these so clear, these so
venerable teachings do not contain: they do not
contain the mystery of what the exalted one has experienced
for himself, he alone among hundreds of thousands.
This is what I have thought and realized, when I
have heard the teachings. This is why I am continuing
my travels not to seek other, better teachings,
for I know there are none, but to depart from all
teachings and all teachers and to reach my goal by
myself or to die. But often, I’ll think
of this day, oh exalted one, and of this hour, when
my eyes beheld a holy man.”
The Buddha’s eyes quietly looked
to the ground; quietly, in perfect equanimity his
inscrutable face was smiling.
“I wish,” the venerable
one spoke slowly, “that your thoughts shall not
be in error, that you shall reach the goal! But
tell me: Have you seen the multitude of my Samanas,
my many brothers, who have taken refuge in the teachings?
And do you believe, oh stranger, oh Samana, do you
believe that it would be better for them all the abandon
the teachings and to return into the life the world
and of desires?”
“Far is such a thought from
my mind,” exclaimed Siddhartha. “I
wish that they shall all stay with the teachings,
that they shall reach their goal! It is not
my place to judge another person’s life.
Only for myself, for myself alone, I must decide,
I must chose, I must refuse. Salvation from the
self is what we Samanas search for, oh exalted one.
If I merely were one of your disciples, oh venerable
one, I’d fear that it might happen to me that
only seemingly, only deceptively my self would be
calm and be redeemed, but that in truth it would live
on and grow, for then I had replaced my self with
the teachings, my duty to follow you, my love for
you, and the community of the monks!”
With half of a smile, with an unwavering
openness and kindness, Gotama looked into the stranger’s
eyes and bid him to leave with a hardly noticeable
gesture.
“You are wise, oh Samana.”, the venerable
one spoke.
“You know how to talk wisely, my friend.
Be aware of too much wisdom!”
The Buddha turned away, and his glance
and half of a smile remained forever etched in Siddhartha’s
memory.
I have never before seen a person
glance and smile, sit and walk this way, he thought;
truly, I wish to be able to glance and smile, sit and
walk this way, too, thus free, thus venerable, thus
concealed, thus open, thus child-like and mysterious.
Truly, only a person who has succeeded in reaching
the innermost part of his self would glance and walk
this way. Well so, I also will seek to reach
the innermost part of my self.
I saw a man, Siddhartha thought, a
single man, before whom I would have 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.
I am deprived by the Buddha, thought
Siddhartha, I am deprived, and even more he has given
to me. He has deprived me of my friend, the one
who had believed in me and now believes in him, who
had been my shadow and is now Gotama’s shadow.
But he has given me Siddhartha, myself.