Chapter six, with the childlike people, said Arthur. Went to Kamaswami, the merchant. He was directed into a rich house. Servants led him between precious carpets into a chamber where he awaited the master of the house. Kamaswami entered, a swiftly, smoothly moving man with very gray hair, with very intelligent, cautious eyes, with a greedy mouth. Politely, the host and
the guest greeted one another. I have been told, the merchant began, that you were a Brahman, a learned man, but that you seek to be in the service of a merchant. Might you have become destitute Brahman, so that you seek to serve No, said Sir Arthur. I have not become destitute, and have never been destitute. You should know that I am coming from the Samanas, with whom I have lived for a long time. If you're coming from the Samanas, how could you be anything but destitute.
Aren't the Samanas entirely without possessions? I am without possessions, said said Arthur. If this is what you mean, surely I am without possessions. But I am so voluntarily, and therefore I am not destitute. But what are you planning to live of being without possessions? I haven't thought of this yet, sir. For more than three years I have been without possessions and have never thought of what I should live. So you've lived of the possessions of
others. Presumably this is how it is. After all, a merchant also lives of what other people own. Well said, But he wouldn't take anything from another the person for nothing. He would give his merchandise in return. So it seems to be Indeed, everyone takes, everyone gives. Such is life. But if you don't mind me asking, being without possessions, what
would you like to give? Everyone gives what he has. A warrior gives strength, the merchant gives merchandise, the teacher teachings, the farmer rice, the fisher fish. Yes, indeed, and what is it now that you've got to give? What is it that you've learned, what you're able to do? I can think, I can wait, I can fast. That's everything. I believe that's everything. And what's the use of that? For example? The fasting? What is it good for? It is very good,
sir. When a person has nothing to eat, fasting is the smartest thing he could do. When, for example, Sir Arthur hadn't learned to fast, he would have to accept any kind of service before this day is up, whether it may be with you or wherever, because hunger would force him to do so. But like this, Sir Arthur can wait calmly. He knows no impatience, He knows no emergency for a long time. He can allow hunger to besiege him and can laugh about it. This, Sir,
is what fasting is good for. You're right, Sir Maana, wait for a moment. Kamaswami left the room and returned with a scroll, which he handed to his guest while asking can you read this? Sir Arthur looked at the scroll on which a sales can tract had been written down, and began to read out its contents. Excellent, said Kamaswami, And would you write something for me on this piece of paper. He handed him a piece of paper and a pen, and Sir Darthur wrote and returned the paper.
Kamaswami read, writing is good. Thinking is better, Being smart is good, Being patient is better. It is excellent how you're able to write. The merchant praised him. Many a thing we will still have to discuss with one another. For today, I'm asking you to be my guest and to live in this house. Sir Arthur thanked and accepted and lived in the dealer's house. From now on. Clothes were brought to him and shoes, and
every day a servant prepared a bath for him. Twice a day a plentiful meal was served, but Siddhartha only ate once a day, and ate neither meat, nor did he drink wine. Kamaswamy told him about his trade, showed him the merchandise and storage rooms, showed him calculations. Saddartha got to know many new things. He heard a lot and spoke little, and, thinking of Kamala's words, he was never subservient to the merchant, forced him
to treat him as an equal, yes even more than an equal. Kamaswami conducted his business with care and often with passion, but Saddartha looked upon all this as if it was a game, the rules of which he tried hard to learn precisely, but the contents of which did not touch his heart. He was not in Kamaswami's house for long when he already took part in his
landlord's business, but daily at the hour appointed by her. He visited beautiful Kamala wearing pretty clothes, fine shoes, and soon he brought her gifts as well. Much he learned from her red a smart mouth. Much he learned from her tender supple hand, him who was regarding love still a boy, and had a tendency to plunge blindly and insatiably into lust, like into a
bottomless pit. Him. She taught thoroughly, starting from the basics, about that school of thought which teaches that pleasure cannot be taken without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every look, every spot of the body, however small it was, had its secret which would
bring happiness to those who knew about it and unleash it. She taught him that lovers must not part from one another after celebrating love without why admiring the other, without being just as defeated as they have been victorious, so that with none of them should start feeling fed up or bored, or get that evil feeling of having abused or having been abused. Wonderful hours he spent with the beautiful and smart artist became her student, her lover, her friend.
Here with Kamala was the worth and purpose of his present life. Knit with the business of Kamaswami, the merchant passed to duties of writing important letters and contracts onto him, and got into the habit of discussing all important affairs with him. He soon saw that Siddhartha knew little about rice and wool shipping and trade, but that he acted in a fortunate manner, and that Siddartha surpassed him the merchant in calmness and equanimity, and in the art of listening and
deeply understanding previously unknown people. This Brahman, he said to a friend, is no proper merchant, and will never be one. There is never any passion in his soul when he conducts our business. But he has that mysterious quality of those people to whom success comes all by itself. Whether this may be a good star of his birth, magic, or something he has learned amongst Somanas. He always seems to be merely playing with our business affairs.
They never fully become a part of him, They never rule over him. He is never afraid of failure, He is never upset by a loss. The friend advised the merchant give him from the business he conducts for you a third of the prophets, but let him also be liable for the same amount of the losses. When there is a loss, then he'll become more zealous. Kamaswami followed the advice, but said, Arthur cared little about this.
When he made a profit, he accepted it with equanimity. When he made losses, he laughed and said, well, look at this, So this one turned out badly. It seemed, indeed, as if he did not care about the business. At one time, he traveled to a village to buy a large harvest of rice there, but when he got there, the
rice had already been sold to another merchant. Nevertheless, Siddartha stayed for several days in that village, treated the farmers for a drink, gave copper coins to their children, joined in the celebration of a wedding, and returned extremely satisfied from his trip. Kamaswami held against him that he had not turned back right away, that he had wasted time and money, said Arthur answered, stop scolding, dear friend. Nothing was ever achieved by scolding. If a
loss has occurred, let me bear that loss. I am very satisfied with this trip. I've gotten to know many kinds of people. A Brahmin has become my friend. Children have sat on my knees, Farmers have shown me their fields. Nobody knew that I was a merchant. That's all very nice, exclaimed Camiswami indignantly. But in fact you are a merchant after all, one ought to think, or might you have only traveled for your amusement? Surely, said Arthur laughed. Surely I have traveled for my amusement. For
what else? I've gotten to know people and places. I have received kindness and trust. I have found friendship. Look, my dear, if I had been Camiswami, I would have traveled back, been annoyed and in a hurry as soon as I had seen that my purchase had been rendered impossible, and time and money would indeed have been lost. But like this, I've had a few good days. I've learned, had joy. I've neither harmed
myself nor others by annoyance and hastiness. And if I'll ever return there again, perhaps to buy an upcoming harvest, or for whatever purpose it might be, friendly people will receive me in a friendly and happy manner, and I will praise myself for not showing any hurry and displeasure at that time. So leave it as it is, my friend, and don't harm yourself by scolding.
If the day will come when you will see this Sir d'Arthur is harming me, then speak a word and Sir d'Arthur will go on his own path. But until then let's be satisfied with one another. Futile were also the merchant's attempts to convince Siddartha that he should eat his bread Siddartha ate his own bread, or rather they both ate other people's bread, all people's bread.
Siddartha never listened to Kamaswami's wiries, and Kamaswami had many wiries, whether there was a business deal going on which was in danger of failing, or whether a shipment of merchandise seemed to have been lost or a debtor seemed to be unable to pay. Kamaswami could never convince his partner that it would be useful to utter a few words of wire or anger to have wrinkles on the forehead
to sleep badly. When one day Kamaswami held against him that he had learned everything he knew from him, he replied would you please not kidney with such jokes. What I've learned from you is how much a basket of fish costs and how much interests can be charged on loaned money. These are your areas of expertise. I haven't learned to think from you, My dear Kamaswami, you ought to be the one seeking to learn from me. Indeed, his
soul was not with the trade. The business was good enough to provide him with the money for Kamala, and it earned him much more than he needed. Besides, from this, Sirdarthur's interest and curiosity was only concerned with the people whose businesses, crafts, wiries, pleasures, and acts of foolishness used to be as alien and distant to him as the moon. However, easily he succeeded in talking to all of them, in living with all of them,
in learning from all of them. He was still aware that there was something which separated him from them, and this separating factor was him being a Samana. He saw mankind going through life in a childlike or animal like manner, which he loved and also despised. At the same time, he saw them toiling, saw them suffering and becoming grave. For the sake of things which seemed to him entirely unworthy of this price, for money, for little
pleasures, for being slightly honored. He saw them scolding and insulting each other. He saw them complaining about a pain at which a samana would only smile, and suffering because of deprivations which a samana would not feel. He was open to everything these people brought his way. Welcome was the merchant who offered him linen for sale. Welcome was the debtor who sought another loan. Welcome was the beggar who told him for one hour the story of his poverty,
and who was not half as poor as any given Samana. He did not treat the rich foreign merchant any different than the servant who shaved him, and the street vendor whom he let cheat him out of some small change when buying bananas. When Kamaswami came to him to complain about his worries or to reproach him concerning his business, he listened curiously and happily was puzzled by him, tried to understand him, consented that he was a little bit right, only
as much as he considered indispensable, and turned away from him. Towards the next person who would ask for him. And there were many who came to him, many to do business with him, many to cheat him, many to draw some secret out of him, many to appeal to his sympathy, many to get his advice. He gave advice, he pitied, he made gifts, He let them cheat him a bit, And this entire game, and the passion with which all people played this game, occupied his thoughts just
as much as the gods and Brahmans used to occupy them. At times, he felt deep in his chest a dying, quiet voice which admonished him quietly, lamented quietly, he hardly perceived it, And then for an hour he became aware of the strange life he was leading, of him, doing lots of things which were only a game of though being happy and feeling joy at
times, real life still passing him by and not touching him. As a ball player plays with his balls, he played with his business, deals with the people around him, watched them, found amusement in them, with his heart, with the source of his being. He was not with them. The source ran somewhere far away from him, ran and ran invisibly, had
nothing to do with his life. Anymore, And at several times he suddenly became scared on account of such thoughts and wished that he would also be gifted with the ability to participate in all of this childlike naive occupations of the daytime, with passion and with his heart really, to live, really, to act, really, to enjoy, and to live instead of just standing by
as a spectator. But again and again he came back to beautiful Kamala learned the art of love, practiced the cult of lust, in which more than anything else, giving and taking becomes one. Chatted with her, learned from her, gave her advice, received advice. She understood him better than Govinda used to understand and him she was more similar to him. Once he said to her, you are like me. You are different from most people.
You are Kamala, nothing else, and inside you there is a peace and refuge to which you can go at every hour of the day and be at home at yourself as I can also do. Few people have this, and yet all could have it. Not all people are smart, said Kamala. No, said, said Arthur. That's not the reason why Kamaswami is just as smart as I and still has no refuge. In himself. Others have
it who are small children with respect to their mind. Most people, Kamala, are like a falling leaf which is blown and is turning around through the air and wavers and tumbles to the ground. But others a few are like stars. They go on a fixed course. No wind reaches them. In themselves. They have their law and their course. Among all the learned men and samanas of which I knew many, there was one of this kind, a perfected one. I'll never be able to forget him. It is that
Gautama, the exalted one, who is spreading that teachings. Thousands of followers are listening to his teachings every day, follow his instructions every hour. But they are all falling leaves, not in themselves. They have teachings and a law. Kamala looked at him with a smile. Again, you're talking about him, she said. Again, you're having a samana's thoughts. Sadd Arthur said nothing, and they played the game of love, one of the third
to your forty different games. Kamala knew her body was flexible like that of a jaguar, and like the bow of a hunter. He who had learned from her how to make love, was knowledgeable of many forms of lust, many secrets. For a long time, she played with Siddhartha, enticed him, rejected him, forced him, embraced him, enjoyed his masterful skills until he was defeated and rested, exhausted by her side the Courtizan bent over him, took a long look at his face, at his eyes, which had
grown tired. You are the best lover, she said thoughtfully. I ever saw You're stronger than others, more supple, more willing. You've learned my art well, said Arthur. At some time, when I'll be older, I'll want to bear your child. And yet, my dear, you've remained a samana. And yet you do not love me. You love nobody, isn't it so? It might very well be so, said Arthur, said tiredly, I am like you. You also do not love. How else
could you practice love as a craft. Perhaps people of our kind can't love the childlike people can. That's their secret. End of chapter six