every pilgrim or stranger who came to the sons of brahmins in the towns and villages with news of him, the noble one, the sakyamuni, was welcome.
This legend even penetrated into the woods where the samanas lived, even to Siddhartha, even to Govinda, slowly, drop by drop, each drop laden with hope, each drop laden with doubt. They seldom spoke of it, as the eldest of the samanas was no friend of this legend. He had been taught that anyone who seemed to be a buddha had first become an ascetic and lived in the woods, and only then returned to the world of comfort and gaiety, and he had no faith in this Gotama at all.
"Siddhartha," said Govinda to his friend one day. "I was in the village today and a brahman invited me into his house, and in his house was a brahmin's son from Magadha who had seen this buddha with his own eyes and listened to his teachings. At that, the very breath in my lungs truly caused me pain and I thought: I too would like, both of us, Siddhartha and I, would like to experience these teachings, to learn from the mouth of one who had attained perfection! Tell me, my friend, should we not go and learn from the mouth of this buddha himself?"
Siddhartha answered, "Oh, Govinda, I had always thought Govinda would stay with the samanas, it was always my belief that it was his objective to live to the age of sixty or seventy and always practise the arts and exercises that the samanas display. But look at me now, I did not know Govinda well enough, I knew little of his heart. But now, dear friend, now you want to set out on a new path and go there, where the buddha spreads his teachings."
Govinda answered, "You like to laugh at me. I hope you always keep laughing, Siddhartha! But do you not also feel the desire to hear these teachings rising within you, the wish to hear what is said? And did you not once say to me that you would not stay for long among the samanas to follow their way?"
At this Siddhartha laughed, in his way of laughing that took on a shadow of sorrow and a shadow of mockery, and said, "Quite right, Govinda, what you say is quite right, you have remembered it rightly. But maybe you should also remember something else you heard from me, that I had become tired and mistrustful of teachings and learning, and that my beliefs have little faith in the words that come to us from teachers. But anyway, my friend, I am willing to come and hear these teachings—even though, in my heart, I think we have already tasted the best fruits of them."
Govinda answered, "Your readiness brings joy to my heart. But tell me, how can that be possible? How could the teachings of Gotama have given us their best fruits even before we have tasted them?"
Siddhartha answered, "Let us enjoy these fruits and wait to see what happens, Govinda! But we can already be thankful to Gotama in that his fruits are calling us away from the samanas! Perhaps he has other fruit to offer, and better fruit my friend. Let us keep peace in our hearts and wait to see if this is so."
That very day Siddhartha told the eldest of the samanas of his decision to leave him. He told him with all the humility and modesty as befits a junior and a pupil. The samana, however fell into a rage at the young men's decision to leave, he raised his voice and used foul language.
Govinda was shocked and embarrassed, but Siddhartha put his mouth to Govinda's ear and whispered, "Now I will show the elder that I have learned something from him."
Siddhartha stood close in front of the samana, gathered his own spirit, captured the gaze of the old man with his own gaze, and thereby did he enthrall him, made him dumb, deprived him of his will, subjected him to his own will, and without a word he ordered him to do as he commanded. The old man was unable to speak, unable to move his eyes, unable to direct his own will, his arms hung loose, he became powerless and was subject to the magic worked by Siddhartha. Siddhartha's thoughts overpowered those of the samana, he had to carry out whatever commands they gave him. And so the old man bowed down several times, performed gestures of blessing and humbly stammered out wishes for a good journey. And the young men replied by thanking him for his prostrations, thanked him for his good wishes and with those greetings made their departure.
On the way Govinda said, "Oh Siddhartha, you learned more from the samanas than I had realised. It is not easy, not easy at all, to bewitch an ancient samana. I am sure that if you had stayed with them you would soon have learned to walk on water."
"Why would I want to walk on water?" said Siddhartha. "If the ancient samanas want to do tricks like that they can keep them!"
ji
GOTAMA
I
n the city of Savathi every child knew the name of the noble buddha, and every house was ready to fill the begging bowls of Gotama's disciples when they made their silent requests. Near the city was the grove of Jetavana. This wood had been given to Gotama and his followers by Anathapindika, a rich businessman who was devoted to the noble one, and it was the place that Gotama liked to visit most.
All the stories and all the answers that the two young ascetics had heard in their search for Gotama had directed them to this place. When they arrived in Savathi they stood at the door of the first house silently begging for food, which was given them. Siddhartha asked the woman who had offered them the food:
"Generous lady, we would like to learn where the most venerable one, the buddha, spends his time, for we are two samanas from the woods and have come to see him, the perfect one, and to hear the teachings from his mouth."
The woman said, "You have certainly arrived at the right place, samanas from the woods. You should know that Jetavana, the garden of Anathapindikas, is where the noble one spends his time. You will be able to spend the night there, pilgrims, as there is even enough room there for the countless many who flood to this place to hear the teachings from his mouth."
This was pleasing news to Govinda, and full of joy he declared, "That is good, so we have reached our destination and our journey is at its end! But tell us, mother of pilgrims, do you know him, the buddha, have you seen him with your own eyes?"
The woman said, "Many have seen him, the noble one. Many times I have seen him as he went on his way through the streets and alleys, silent in his yellow robes, silent as he showed his begging bowl at the doors of houses and, as he left those places, his begging bowl full."
Govinda listened with joy and wanted to put many questions and to hear more. But Siddhartha urged that they should go on their way. They said thank you and left, and had hardly any need to ask the way for many pilgrims were on their way to Jetavana, as well as monks from Gotama's community. They arrived there in the night time, there was a continuous flow of visitors arriving, calling to each other, talking about who was looking for shelter and who had found it. The two samanas, used to live in the woods, found a place to rest quickly and quietly and remained there till morning.
When the sun rose they were astonished to see the size of the crowd, believers or the curious, who had spent the night here. Monks in their yellow robes wandered along all the paths of the beautiful grove, here and there under the trees sat people deep in meditation or engaged in spiritual discussion. The shady garden was like a city, full of people swarming like bees. Most of the monks were leaving with their begging bowls in order to collect food for midday, when they would have their only meal of the day. Even the buddha himself, the enlightened one, made a habit of going out to beg each morning.
Siddhartha saw him, and as quickly as if he had been pointed out by a god, he knew who it was. He saw him, a slight man in a yellow cloak, making his quiet way with his begging bowl in his hand.
"Govinda, look!" whispered Siddhartha. "Just there, that is the buddha."
Govinda stared at the monk in the yellow robe, indistinguishable from the hundreds of other monks there. And soon Govinda could see it too: it was him. And they followed him and
