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In the novel, Siddhartha, a young man, leaves his family for a contemplative life, then, restless, discards it for one of the flesh. He conceives a son, but bored and sickened by lust and greed, moves on again. Near despair, Siddhartha comes to a river where he hears a unique sound. This sound signals the true beginning of his life -- the beginning of suffering, rejection, peace, and, finally, wisdom.
necessary, nothing time. What he had said to Gotama: his, the Buddha’s, treasure and secret else was necessary. was not the teachings, but the unexpressable and not teachable, which In the night when he slept in the straw hut of a ferryman by the river, he had experienced in the hour of his enlightenment—it was nothing Siddhartha had a dream: Govinda was standing in front of him, dressed but this very thing which he had now gone to experience, what he now in the yellow robe of an ascetic.
sin, to be able to live again. Where else might my path lead me to? smiled at the river. Was this not the river in which he had intended to It is foolish, this path, it moves in loops, perhaps it is going around in a drown himself, in past times, a hundred years ago, or had he dreamed circle. Let it go as it likes, I want to to take it. this? Wonderfully, he felt joy rolling like waves in his chest. Wondrous indeed was my life, so he thought, wondrous detours it Wherever from, he asked
for themselves, and Vasudeva lay himself down to sleep. But Siddhartha went outside and sat this night before the hut, listening to the river, surrounded by the past, touched and encircled by all times of his life at the same time. But occasionally, he rose, stepped to the door of the hut and listened, whether the boy was sleeping. Early in the morning, even before the sun could be seen, Vasudeva came out of the stable and walked over to his friend. “You haven’t slept,” he said. “No,
be said, long time ago, as a young man, had forced his father to let him go to the everything shown, everything he could tell. He presented his wound, penitents, how he had bed his farewell to him, how he had gone and had also told how he fled today, how he ferried across the water, a childish never come back. Had his father not also suffered the same pain for him, run-away, willing to walk to the city, how the river had laughed. which he now suffered for his son? Had his father not long
the gods, and that this could not last; in his heart, he started bidding he had ever seen, all of these waves and waters were hurrying, suffering, his farewell to Vasudeva. Thorough all this, he talked incessantly. towards goals, many goals, the waterfall, the lake, the rapids, the sea, and When he had finished talking, Vasudeva turned his friendly eyes, all goals were reached, and every goal was followed by a new one, and which had grown slightly weak, at him, said nothing, let his silent