REFLEXIVE

TEXT ANALYSIS

  
 ABSTRACT

Siddhartha a book by Hermann Hesse was written in 1922, a book about self. The protagonist
Siddhartha and his quest to search for Atman or Self and the meaning of it. His insatiate desire
for knowledge and seeking out different ways to acquire deeper knowledge. The objective or aim
of the practical is to gain understanding of Self and to indulge in reflexive analysis with the help
of text and to understand the nuances and the likes and dislikes in terms of our life, what we have
liked and why has it been like that. To dig deeper in our consciousness.
 TITLE :

Summary

Siddhartha is the story of a man on a journey. Siddhartha, the son of a Brahman, who lived in
India in the time of Gautama Buddha, the Enlightened One, grew up in the ideal way that a
Brahman boy would – loved and respected by all. The joy he brought to the people around him,
however, did not extend to himself, and he was deeply unhappy, restless, and dissatisfied. His
mind was full of questions about the meaning of life, the world and our place in it, the Gods, the
sacrifices he had learned to make to appease them, and most of all, “Atman” – where this could
be found, discovered, developed. It was in search of this Atman that he decided to leave the life
of a Brahman and go join the Samanas in their ascetic lifestyle. He was drawn to their “quiet
passion, of destructive service, of merciless self-denial.” (pg. 17).

Joined by his devoted friend Govinda, Siddhartha joined the Samanas, known to many as the
“wandering ascetics”, who practiced “self-denial by means of pain, through voluntarily suffering
and overcoming pain, hunger, thirst, tiredness.” (pg. 26). Their goal was to overcome and kill the
self, and every desire, urge and sense, and believed that it was only then that they could awake
the ultimate part of themselves, which was no longer their self, the great secret. Though
Siddhartha learned and practiced the rituals quickly and sincerely, learned to fast, to meditate and
lose himself in the becoming of a thousand other creatures, he always found himself returning,
inevitably, to himself, Siddhartha. He felt dissatisfied still, far removed from wisdom and
salvation. He told Govinda one day that he believed he could have learned what he learnt among
the Samanas far more easily, by simpler means. He felt what he was doing in his quest to shed
his self, was simply running away from himself – an easy escape, not very different from that of
intoxication. He was beginning to be disillusioned by the Samanas, and doubtful of their
methods- whether any Samana at all would be able to achieve nirvana. He was beginning to form
the belief that there was no such thing as learning – only knowledge which resided in the Atman,
the self, which was within every creature, and could not be found by losing or destroying the
self. He informed his friend Govinda of his decision to not remain with the Samanas much
longer, and when they heard of Buddha, the Enlightened One, the perfected one who had
achieved nirvana and been freed from the murky cycle of rebirth, he and Govinda decided to
leave the Samanas to go listen to the teachings of Buddha. Though Siddhartha was weary of
words and teachings, he was willing to listen to the teachings of Buddha, and so they set out in
search.

In the garden of Jetavana, Siddhartha and Govinda finally encountered Buddha, and were able to
tell him apart immediately from among the hundreds of other monks there, in his radiance and
“unwithering calm, unwavering light…untouchable peace.” (pg. 42) Though Siddhartha felt a
resistance towards teachings, he could not deny the curiosity that had been awakened in him
through the stories and second-hand teachings of Buddha. When they heard him speak that
evening, it was not the Buddha’s teachings which stayed with him, but rather his being – in its
perfect calmness and authenticity. Govinda, the shy one, stepped forward and asked to take
refuge in the Buddha’s teachings. Siddhartha did not, and when questioned by Govinda,
responded that he had always been his friend and always stayed one behind him; that now that he
had taken this step out of his own soul, he had turned into a man and chosen a path for himself.
After bidding his faithful friend goodbye, Siddhartha met the Buddha walking in a grove and
asked to speak with him. He expressed to him his deep concern, his aversion to teachings of any
kind, for though he admitted those of the Buddha are the very best, he was unable to have faith
that what the Buddha experienced in hour of enlightenment could be shared with others through
teachings, for they would never really know and experience his experiences. He expressed to the
exalted one his wish to depart from teachers and teachings, and reach his goal by himself. He
accepted the Buddha’s few words of caution with openness and reverence, and left, feeling like
he had gained a lot from this encounter - gained a stronger sense of self, though he had lost to the
Buddha a dear friend.

When Siddhartha left the grove, he felt like he had shed there his youth, a part of himself.
Specifically, the part of himself that yearned for teachers and teachings. He realized that what he
had been searching for all along had been himself – the mystery of Siddhartha, and it was this
mystery he had thought about the most and knew about the least. He felt a sense of awakening,
of being alive to everything around him. He finally felt able to see the beauty in all things, and
loved them, recognizing the visible world as not a deception, but containing the magic of the
Universe. “The purpose and the essential properties were not somewhere behind the things, they
were in them, in everything.” (pg. 56) His heart felt cold, for a change was coming over him, he
was shedding all the identities that had always been a part of him, even when he had left his
father’s house, even when he was an ascetic without a home. He stopped being a Brahman, of
high caste, his father’s son. All that remained was only Siddhartha, the awakened one, and he felt
that by losing his place (identities) in the world, he was becoming more a part of it, by being
more truly, authentically himself. He was still on a journey, but he no longer had a destination, or
a road back.

Siddhartha now noticed the world, in all its colour and beauty, with an open, loving gaze. He was
present in the visible world and did not try to look beyond it, did not try to unveil any inner
essence, rather loved every part of it for what it already was. He listened, closely, to the voice
within his own heart, for neither self-castigation, nor prayer, ablutions and offerings had given
him any answers, and he found this voice to be a far better guide. After dreaming one day of
embracing and drinking at the breast of a woman, Siddhartha decided to cross the river. A kind
boatman took him across, telling Siddhartha how much he loved the river and how much he had
learned from it, and predicting that someday he, too, would return to it. Siddhartha was thankful
for his kindness and friendship, and soon entered a village where he met a young woman who
tried to initiate a sexual exchange with him. Though Siddhartha fought himself to resist her
charm, he felt a desire, a lust stirring inside him. He left without seeing the exchange through to
its end, and entered the city, feeling a need to be among people. Near the entrance of the city, he
came upon the sight of a beautifully fenced grove, and a beautiful woman on a sedan-chair, being
carried to her pleasure garden. His heart rejoiced at her beauty, her charming face, intelligent
eyes, her full lips blushing with the redness of a cracked fig. He saw her for a moment before she
disappeared into her garden, and on enquiring, learned that she was Kamala, the famous
courtesan. He realized then that he could no longer be a Samana, an ascetic and a beggar, if he
wished to befriend Kamala. He made friends with a barber’s assistant that night, and had him
shave his beard, cut and comb his hair and anoint it with fine oil. Thus prepared, he went to
Kamala’s garden again the next evening, and asked to be allowed to speak with her. He told her
about himself and his journey so far, and asked her to accept him as her friend and student in the
art she had mastered so well. Kamala laughed at him indulgently, filled with curiosity, for she
had never had a Samana from the forest come to her before, determined to learn from her the art
of making love. She told him that to be her friend, he would have to be rich, wear fine clothes
and shoes and perfumed oil in his hair. Siddhartha confidently accepted this challenge, for he had
set harder tasks for himself and had achieved them. He asked her only what the fastest way
would be to find the things she asked. When she told him he must earn it and asked him what he
was able to do, he said “I can think. I can wait. I can fast.” (pg. 77) He told her he could also
write poetry, and asked for a kiss in exchange of a poem. After sharing with her a beautiful poem
he had written for her, he was rewarded with a kiss from the enigmatic Kamala, which lured him,
taught him, rejected him, drew him in and most of all revealed before him the vast cornucopia of
knowledge he had yet to learn. The next day, Kamala told her that he was expected at the house
of Kamaswami, a rich merchant, who if impressed, would accept Siddhartha into his service. She
herself was surprised at how one door after another was being opened for Siddhartha, and asked
if he had a spell of some kind. He confidently responded that the three things he was able to do –
think, fast, and wait – were useful for many things, and that once he had set his mind to a goal,
he achieved it. he believed his goal attracted him because he didn’t let anything enter his soul
which may distract him from his goal.

Having firmly grounded his resolution thus, Siddhartha went to the house of Kamaswami, the
richest merchant in the city. Like Kamala, Kamaswami too asked him what he was able to do.
Once again, Siddhartha demonstrated to him the value of being able to think, wait and fast.
Kamaswami was also impressed by his ability to read and write, and invited him to be his guest
and live in his house, which Siddhartha accepted. Over the next few months, Siddhartha, now
clothed in a rich man’s clothes and shoes, learned from Kamaswami the secrets of his trade. He
listened a lot, spoke little and forced the merchant to treat him as an equal, in accordance with
Kamala’s wishes. However, though he lived with Kamaswami, he ate only once a day, and ate
neither meat nor drank wine, and conducted Kamaswami’s business without passion. It seemed
to him a game, “the rules of which he tried hard to learn precisely, but the contents of which did
not touch his heart.” (pg. 88) What did touch his heart and make alive his senses, was his daily
meetings with the beautiful Kamala, who taught him thoroughly the art of lovemaking, and it
was in this that he found the worth and purpose of his present life. In business, he was unaffected
by both profit and loss alike, treating them with the same calmness and magnanimity, never
being greedy for gain, never angry at a loss. Siddhartha mixed and lived easily with merchants,
but he always retained a quality which separated him from them, and that was the quality of
being a Samana. He saw everyone else as leading their lives in a ‘childlike manner’, which he
both loved and despised about them. The source of his being was not with them, it ran
somewhere else, far away from him, and he was unable to completely involve himself in the
daily occupations that most people let affect them so much. The only one he felt was like him at
all was Kamala, in whom he saw a peace that was untouched by the external world. In her he
found a friend and a companion. He believed the course of his life was like that of a star, with a
fixed course unchanged by winds, while most people lived their lives like leaves falling from a
tree, wavering, tumbling, going where the wind takes them. It was this, that made Kamala one
day tell him that though he had learned the craft of lovemaking well, he did not love anybody.
He could not, people like him never could, and it was this which separated him from the
childlike people.

For a long time, Siddhartha lived this life, and for a long time, he remained in his heart a
Samana, his life guided by the things he learnt as a Samana. But as the years passed, and he lived
in a house that he owned in the lap of luxury, with plentiful food, wine, meat and servants, he
began to feel “that high, bright state of being awake” (pg. 100) fade away, become a distant
memory. He got accustomed to the comforts he was surrounded by and indulged even in
gambling, which he at first participated in detachedly, but soon used as a way to demonstrate his
superiority, his disdain for wealth and riches. He gambled recklessly and mockingly, all the
while hating himself for it. His inner voice fell silent, and he lost his calmness, his patience and
his kindness, and to numb himself from the painful realization of his, he plunged headfirst into
the distractions of sex, wine and yet another game of dice. One day, while he was with Kamala,
she told him of her wish to someday give up her pleasure garden and take refuge in the teachings
of the Buddha. He noticed, for the first time, the lines and grooves on her face, how tired she
was. In his mind, he bid farewell to her, and spent that night in self-destructive misery, drinking
and watching dancing girls till he fell into a disturbed sleep, disgusted with himself. It was in this
state that he had a dream that the rare bird Kamala kept in her golden cage had fallen silent, had
died and been thrown by him onto the street. He was terribly shocked, and he felt despair, as
though he had thrown away from himself all things of value. Encompassed by a terrible sadness,
he felt worthless and alone, and went to his pleasure garden and sat and meditated under a mango
tree. He “felt death in his heart and horror in his chest, sat and sensed how everything died in
him, withered in him, came to an end in him.” (pg. 109) He remembered how, as a boy, he had
felt true bliss when he had obtained praise from the Brahmans, and had felt that he had a path
awaiting him which he was destined for. When he was a young man about to leave his father’s
house, he felt the same calling, as he did when he left the Samanas to go to Buddha, and Buddha
to go into the uncertain. Siddhartha thought wistfully of how long it had been since he had heard
that voice of calling, since he had a high goal, a thirst, an elevation. He had become a part of the
game of Sansara, he had lived it over and over again and let it dull his senses, his thirst. He felt
something in him die, and he knew he had to put an end to this way of living. He bid his farewell
to the mango tree and his pleasure garden, and left, never to come back. Kamaswami was
worried to find him gone, Kamala was not. She understood him well. When she heard he was
gone, she went to her golden cage, opened it, and let the captive bird fly away. She received no
more guests after that, but Siddhartha did not know that the last time they had been together,
Kamala became pregnant with his child.

Siddhartha walked through the forest, far from the city, till he finally reached the river he had
once crossed to reach the grove of Kamala. He felt he had sucked up death and disgust into his
body like a sponge, and he felt miserable, like there was nothing in the world that could have
comforted him. He wished to know nothing about himself anymore, wished only for death to put
an end to his suffering. There were no more goals for him, he wanted to rid himself of the filth he
had soiled himself with and he did not know how to end that cycle and go on living. He leaned
against the trunk of a coconut tree and looked at the gushing river, and the terrible emptiness in
his soul made him want nothing more than to drown himself in its waters. It was in this terrible
moment of hopelessness that Siddhartha felt a sound stirring in the remote parts of his soul. The
word “Om” came to him, meaning “that which is perfect” or “the completion”. The moment this
sound touched his ear, Siddhartha realized how foolish he was being in his wish to die. He
became aware of himself in his misery and in his error. Mumbling to himself the word Om,
learned from his days among the Brahmans, Siddhartha collapsed, his body tired and numb, and
fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When he awoke, the word Om was still on his lips, and the past
seemed to him as if it had been covered by a veil, making it distant and meaningless to him. He
felt renewed by this sleep, and awoke to find his beloved childhood friend, Govinda, sitting in
contemplation near him. Govinda had not recognized Siddhartha, and explained that when he
found him asleep in such a dangerous place, he decided to watch over him while he slept.
Govinda wished him good health and was on his way, when Siddhartha called him by his name
and Govinda was amazed to recognize his old companion. He was as surprised to see Siddhartha
in a rich man’s garments, dressed as a true gentleman. He was disbelieving of Siddhartha’s claim
that he was on a pilgrimage, as he had never before encountered a pilgrim dressed this way.
Siddhartha reminded him that the world of appearances was not eternal, and that “non-eternal
things change quickly.” (pg. 122) Govinda looked at his friend for a long time with doubt in his
eyes, before he give him the salutation one would use for a gentleman, and went away.
Siddhartha felt love for him still, and by-and-by recognized the nature of his sickness before –
that he had been unable to love anybody or anything. As he carried on, he also realized that the
three things he had boasted he could do, to Kamala, had left him. He was no longer able to think,
to fast and to wait. He was no longer able to perform these feats, and now he truly felt like one of
the childlike people – now that he had lost what made him different. He now had no possessions,
no abilities and he was starting at the beginning, and this filled him with wonder, and joy. He did
not feel sad about this, rather he was filled with laughter at the “strange, foolish world” (pg. 124)
he lived in. he looked at the flowing river and thought about the course of his life, and the
detours it had taken – from offerings to penitence to insights to Sansara – lust, luxury and
intoxication, to where he was now – once again a childlike person. He accepted, with openness,
that the path of his life was not linear – it moved in detours and loops – and he felt a joy surging
in his heart, he felt free and able to breathe easily. He also felt an unpreceded sense of humility –
he promised to never again delude himself into thinking that Siddhartha was wise, rather he felt
happy he had left behind the life of Sansara that so disgusted him, and had not succumbed to the
despair he felt the previous night. He felt that he had truly experienced the harm that the world of
riches and lust can do to the soul – and now that he had experienced this for himself, he knew it
not just in his memory as he did as a child – but in his heart, his eyes, his stomach. Siddhartha
contemplated his transformation and wondered what brought it about – when he realized that he
had finally destroyed that part of himself that he had for a long time wanted to be rid of. It was
the part which made him want to throw himself into the river the previous night out of
hopelessness, the part to which he kept returning after so many years of struggle. This part of his
self – filled with arrogance – was not dead, and Siddhartha felt rejuvenated. It was this arrogance
which made him always feel superior – always one step ahead of the others in even the holiest of
pursuits. “Into this arrogance…his self had retreated, there it sat firmly and grew, while he
thought he would kill it with fasting and penance.” (pg 129) He knew now that his inner voice
had been right all along – that no teacher could have taught him what his experiences his – the
path to his salvation. In the destroying of this arrogance, Siddhartha was able to find a new,
childlike wonder and love for the world, and the strength to begin, once again, from the very
beginning.

Siddhartha looked lovingly, gratefully at the clear green, gushing water and felt his inner voice
tell him to stay close to this water, to learn from it. He walked to the ferry, the one with the same
ferryman who had once given him shelter and his friendship, and while crossing the river, asked
the ferryman to please keep him as his assistant. The ferryman, Vasudeva, accepted, and invited
Siddhartha to be his guest and take shelter in his hut. At sunset, they sat on a log facing the river
and Siddhartha told Vasudeva the story of his journey, and how he had reached there. Vasudeva
listened to him carefully, patiently, as only few know how to listen, and let each one of his words
enter his mind. When Sidhhartha had finished his tale, Vasudeva, after being silent for a long
time, told Siddhartha that the river had spoken to him as well. He asked Siddhartha to live with
him, for there was space and food enough for two. He told Siddhartha that he would learn a lot
from the river, that he must listen to it. And so Siddhartha began living with Vasudeva, and they
lived side by side in a friendly silence, for the most part, for Vasudeva was a man of few words.
Siddhartha learned to operate the boat, work in the rice-fields, gather wood and pluck fruit off
the banana trees. But more than from Vasudeva, Siddhartha learned from the river. He learned
about time, how there was none, for the river was everywhere at once. In our lives, too, there was
no past or future. Everything had existence, and was in the present. He learned, too, that all
suffering was nothing but time, and could be overcome as soon as one could overcome time –
put it out of existence by one’s thoughts. He heard the river’s many voices. Heard them all
converge to form the one word that the river had been whispering to him, that Vasudeva also
whispered in his ear – Om. The two boatmen thus lived in peace and contentment for many
years, and the story of two wise ferrymen reached many a ear. Many years later, the news
reached the two men that the great Buddha was dying, and hoards of devotees and followers
flocked to the place where he lay. The two ferrymen ferried dozens of passengers across the river
each day, on their way to meet the Buddha. One of these travellers was Kamala, who had long
renounced her pleasure garden, and taken refuge in the teachings of the Buddha. She, too, was
travelling with her son, the young Siddhartha, to meet the Buddha, when disaster struck and she
was bitten by a small black snake. The cries of her son reached the ears of Vasudeva, who along
with Siddhartha, rushed to the wailing boy. Though it had been many years, Siddhartha instantly
recognized Kamala, and the boy as his. They took her back to his hut, cleaned her wound and
gave her a healing potion, but both men realized that she would not survive. Kamala asked
Siddhartha if he had found peace, but she knew without him telling her that he had, he held her
hand and smiled at her in her last moments, and in her mind she had found the perfected one, and
been in the presence of his peace.

Kamala breathed her last, leaving Siddhartha with their son, the younger Siddhartha. The night
she died, Siddhartha went and sat by the river, listening to it, allowing it to heal him. The next
morning, Vasudeva observed that though he was experiencing suffering, no sadness had reached
his heart. Siddhartha replied that he had been rich and happy, but now that he had been given a
son, he was richer and happier still. Slowly, though, as the days passed, Siddhartha realized that
his son brought him neither happiness nor peace. He was used to a far more comfortable life than
the two men were able to give him, and was in mourning. He did not recognize the two men and
did not want to live in poverty with them. The young boy was stubborn, disrespectful and
resistant, but Siddhartha hoped to win him over with friendly patience. For many months this
went on, and there was no change in the boy. “But he loved him, and he preferred the suffering
and worries of love over happiness and joy without the boy.” (pg. 152) However, Siddhartha’s
patience bore no fruit and the boy continued to torment him. One day, when he had broken both
their rice bowls, Vasudeva talked to him, reminding him that the boy was used to a very different
lifestyle that he had been forced to leave, not given up voluntarily like Siddhartha. He asks
Siddhartha to listen to the river, but Siddhartha is does not have the heart to part with the boy just
yet. He wanted more time to win him over. Vasudeva reminded him, that though he did not beat
or punish his son, he was controlling his life and punishing him by forcing him to live in a hut
with two poor old men, he was shackling him with his love and making him feel inferior every
day. He told Siddhartha that the boy needed to be in the city, with other boys his age, and while
Siddhartha conceded to have thought this, he was scared to let him go just yet, scared the boy
would repeat his father’s mistakes. Vasudeva reminded him that he could not protect his son
from his fate and his pain, just like no teacher or father had been able to save Siddhartha from the
difficult path he had walked. Siddhartha thanked him, and knew in his heart that he was right, but
this was a knowledge that he could not act upon, for “stronger than the knowledge was his love
for the boy, stronger was his tenderness, his fear to lose him.” (pg. 157) Siddhartha, unable to
give up the boy, continued to let him hurt him, disregard him. One day, when the boy’s face
looked remarkably like Kamala’s, he was reminded of what she had once told him, that he could
not love. He had agreed with her then and had since envied the childlike people for this one trait
– their capacity to love another. Siddhartha had never himself been able to devote himself
completely to another person, to commit foolish acts for the love of another person; but here he
found himself as foolish, yet as blissful as a childlike person, in love for his son Siddhartha. He
felt this love was not worthless – this pain was necessary to be endured, these foolish acts had to
be committed. Through all this, his son let him humiliate himself, till one day he lashed out at his
father with hurtful words, saying he would never be as devout, as wise as Siddhartha, and that he
would rather be highway-robber and murderer, than end up like his father! He ran away the next
morning, stealing some money and their ferry to get across the river. Though advised against it
by Vasudeva, Siddhartha decided to follow his son into the jungle, if only to see him once again.
Vasudeva did not stop him. He walked for a long time through the forest before realizing that his
search was useless. He continued walking till he reached the city where he had first met Kamala
outside her pleasure garden, which was now filled with monks who followed the teachings of
Buddha. Images from his past life came back to him as he stood outside those gates, and he knew
in his heart that he could not help his son, and that he must not cling to him. He knew that the
wound in his heart had been given to him in order to blossom and shine. However it was not time
for that yet, and at that moment Siddhartha felt a heavy emptiness, without joy, without a goal.
He was mourning his son the way he had mourned Kamala. He sat in meditation outside the
grove, listening, seeking answers, for a long time before he was called upon by Vasudeva, who
had followed him there.

The two men never spoke of what had happened that day, but for a long time, Siddhartha’s
wound continued to burn. He was envious of many a traveller accompanied by a son or daughter.
These people did not seem as alien to him as they used to, he understood and shared their life,
felt what they were feeling. He saw not the foolishness, but the worth of these people in their
blind loyalty, strength and tenacity. He no longer saw them as lacking anything. Slowly,
Siddhartha came to the realization that the goal of his long search was “a readiness of the soul,
an ability, a secret art, to think every moment, while living his life, the thought of oneness, to be
able to feel and inhale the oneness.” (pg. 169), and herein lay the true wisdom he had been
seeking. His wound still burned, and he was reminded of the face of his father the Brahman,
whom he had left, and never returned to. His father too, had suffered the same way for his son, as
Siddhartha was now suffering for his young boy. The river helped him come to this
understanding, that everything, all pain which had not been suffered to its end, came back and
had to be suffered over and over again. He wished then to open up to Vasudeva once more, to be
listened to by him. Vasudeva’s listening gave Siddhartha a stronger sensation of his pain, his
fears, his secret hope. Vasudeva listened to everything Siddhartha had to say, and responded only
by asking his to listen to the river once more. In it, he heard this time, myriad voices, good and
bad, full of joy and suffering, all merging into oneness. Siddhartha heard neither the joy nor
suffering, he completely submerged himself into the river and heard only the oneness of the
voices, the whole, consisting of a single word: Om. In this word he found the knowledge he had
been seeking so long – knowledge no longer opposed by any will, in agreement with the flow of
all things, belonging to the oneness. When Vasudeva saw this knowledge in Siddhartha’s eyes,
he tenderly bid him farewell, and left to go into the forest, into the oneness.

Many years after Vasudeva had left, an old Siddhartha once again had the good fortune of
meeting his dear friend, Govinda, who did not recognize him at first. Govinda, who did not
recognize him at first, revealed to him that he was still searching for release from the restlessness
of his heart – that perhaps he would always be a searcher. Siddhartha commented that perhaps he
had spent too much time searching, to find anything. He explained that when one has a definite
goal, or an answer one is looking for, one thinks of nothing but the object of his search. Finding
meant “being free, being open, having no goal.” (pg. 180) He revealed himself to Govinda and
invited him to come stay with him in his hut for the night. Govinda had many questions for him –
and Siddhartha explained to him the journey of his life. Upon being asked, he shared with
Govinda some of his thoughts and insights. He told him of his belief that knowledge could be
conveyed, but wisdom could not – it could only be found and lived – not expressed in words and
taught. He told him of his lack of faith in words – how they were simply our creations, and
lacked completeness and oneness, for they only described one side of the whole truth. He spoke
to Govinda about his lack of faith in time too, how a sinner was not on his way to developing to
become a Buddha, but rather he already was the Buddha, in what already existed in him. How
the Buddha, how enlightenment, peace and wisdom was already present in each and every one of
us. How everything only has to be seen as it was, and loved with an open acceptance. He spoke
about oneness and giving up resistance and becoming a part of the existing world. He believed
teachings were no good because they were only words, they did not have softness or texture,
smell or colour, and could not be experienced. Siddhartha was not interested in understanding the
world, like many thinkers were – he wanted only to love it. Govinda was puzzled by many of the
things Siddhartha said, and he did not understand or agree with some of them. He thought of him
as a man with bizarre thoughts and foolish teachings, but he also believed, in his heart, that
Siddhartha was a true holy man – that he radiated purity, calmness, cheerfulness and holiness.
Which Govinda has seen in nobody else but the Enlightened One. Before leaving, he kissed
Siddhartha’s forehead, and at the touch of his lips to his forehead, he saw what Siddhartha has
seen in the river – the world in its totality – Gods, demons, new born babies crying, corpses
rotting, people loving and hating and destroying and creating this world, all merging and flowing
into each other. All of these thousands of images were covered by something thin, transparent
like a mask of water, and Govinda realized that it was the smiling face of Siddhartha, containing
within it all of this, like the thousand-fold smile of Gotama – the Buddha. In this moment,
Govinda did not know anymore whether time existed, where his vision had lasted a second or a
hundred years. His innermost self had been touched, and smiling with tears in his eyes, he bowed
to Siddhartha, feeling the most intimate love, the humblest veneration, and parted, knowing he
had truly been in the presence of what had been most valuable and holy to him in his life.
 SECTION II: Phrases and meaning

One must find the source within one’s own self, one must possess it. Everything else
was seeking- a detour, error: (para: 1.9) A person has the knowledge of world and his
surroundings and that of life and death only if he is not only acquainted but in full capacity
understanding of their self. A person’s body is no different from its self. True happiness is
through spiritual peace, and the spiritual peace can only be attained by yourself. Sidhhartha
searches everywhere from the Brahmins, since his birth, to the Samanas, to Kamala and being
lost in the world of riches. It after experiencing everything that he realizes his own self and
knows that what he has lost and gained. He found himself only after losing it. He was able to
identify his self from the mortal worldly objects and things in which people get stuck and are not
able to find their self and are lost forever. Waking up to what actually is real at the deepest and
ultimate level. It means living that reality, becoming that reality. It actually means self-
realization. The reality that is eternal, and unchanging. Yet we have experienced a reality that is
always changing, where every single thing is temporary and separate are not equipped to
understand oneness. In order to understand our self we have to go to a higher level of
consciousness.

The world tasted bitter. Life is pain (para, 2.2) : Seeing around how all he saw were
subjected to mortality and yet busy in their own world, businessmen trading, princes going to
hunt, mourners weeping and prostitutes offering themselves, doctors attending to the sick. This
all was an illusion. By this the author means that everyone is caught up in the worldly problems
and the chakra of life and death will keep coming back to them until they attain nirvana and
know their meaning in life and if they cannot escape the world of ‘maya’. In essence, they want
to trade, hunt and earn money which are basic needs but do not want to grow in life and know
their true purpose. Sidhhartha find these worldly things as pain. He called life as being painful as
the motive of life was to find and connect with your inner self, the true being which many forgot
and caught got up in ‘maya’. Once they knew about ‘atman’, and were acquainted with it then
money, and the riches would not matter to them, their families would not mean anything. Life is
pain as the world offers the riches and relations to live with but the true essence of life is lost, the
purpose of coming in the world and discovering self and rising above.
You have learned nothing through teachings, and so I think, O illustrious One, that nobody
finds salvation through teachings. (para, 3.32) : Teachings are a way to guide disciples to attain
salvation. The medium through which many are guided, like a teacher cannot write exam for
students but tell him how to go about writing and learning, they can tell us what they have
learned and how they have achieved, but everyone has their own way of learning which might be
the same or different than that of masters. They give us examples, but cannot attain salvation for
us. It is not a step by step process that you complete and attain salvation. Siddhartha does not
believe in teachings, as he has heard a lot of them and doesn’t feel they are wrong or do not help
but he feels that each has to choose their own path to salvation. For Siddhartha, he listens to the
Illustrious One’s teaching but feels he cannot stay there and attain salvation. He then chooses his
own path. As we are told by our elders that we should learn from others mistakes and not make
them again but only when we make our share of mistakes and learn, we rise above and learn and
similarly we do not make them again. This path of self-learning takes helps us grow. Siddhartha,
feels it is only for him to see the world and choose his path to attain salvation. In Bhagwat Gita
we read the story of Arjuna when he asked his beloved master, Lord Krishna “you say great
thing. You argue well. But still doubts persist within me because I have not experienced what
you talk about. Why don’t you give me some experience so my doubts can disappear?”
Siddhartha can be compared to Arjuna when he says that I have not experienced what you talk
about. Thus, Siddhartha chooses his own path to salvation and does not pledge allegiance to
Illustrious One. For thousand years people were expected to comply with the opinions and
beliefs of their time and place, the ideal of universal education encourages each one of us to
establish our answers for ourselves.

It was no longer the magic of Mara, it was no more the veil of Maya.( para, 4.7): Mara, the god
of death and Maya is the illusion or appearance of the phenomenal world. Siddhartha had left
from the grooves and was on his way thinking and contemplating and enjoying whatever he saw,
the colors, flowers, river. He started to appreciate the beauty of everything he saw. Never had he
ever seen them, all of them before were Maya to him, but he thought and saw them differently
now as he was now a different man, like a snake sheds his skin, Siddhartha too had now shed his
skin of ignorance and running away from self and taming it, as he did in his previous life. When
he was a Brahmin he refused to be at peace with ‘atman’ or understand it, as a Samana he tried to
kill self, fleet away from him by becoming other things but yet again would return to his self
after hours, days, he again would be Siddhartha. But now he thought it was time to come to
know who Siddhartha was, and be one with self. He no longer was a Brahmin or a Samana, he
did not have any religion or belonged to any caste. He was just Siddhartha. We are afraid of
Mara because we are not well informed, once we know and are enlightened nothing frightens us
not even death. The Lord made the world and we all are here to find our real self to be at peace
with it, but we are lost in the Maya, the Maya is nothing but illusion to distract us from reaching
our ultimate goal, the goal of knowing self and loving it and being at peace with it.

I can think, I can wait, I can fast. (Para, 5.33): Siddhartha tells kamala that all he has learnt and
has to offer are these three things, to think, wait and fast. These things might sound trivial and
easy to achieve and a lot of people might think they can wait. To wait means to be patient. And
to be patient means to respect the pace of life. There is no point in trying to run ahead of life. We
simply cannot outsmart life. But, how often we see people get irritated and angry standing in a
queue. Or while waiting for a friend. Sometimes we might get irritated at the fact that when will
right things happen to us and the wait seems endless. In this world of restlessness, Siddhartha
had to ability to wait. Do we think only that which is necessary? And are we able to think with
the required degrees of attention about which we are supposed to think?  In majority of the cases,
the answer in no. We think too much about unnecessary things and too little about the necessary
ones. In a day, almost 90 % of our thinking is either repetitive, redundant, unnecessary or
imaginative. Thinking by virtue is a human gift by God, animals cannot but humans can and can
question what is wrong or right for them, they can think about anything and everything and yet
some choose not to think and abide by what has been told to them; like Govinda he trusted and
loved Siddhartha and always followed him never did he take his own path. He never thought
himself as to what he wanted, but rather believed in Siddhartha being the best and achieving
salvation. He knew some day Siddhartha will shine. But when it came to him, he always
followed Siddhartha. Fasting in Indian tradition has always been observed something that the
women do for religious events, health of husband, children and family, it is something that the
male aren’t acquainted with. Siddhartha, while living with his father, received gifts and food, he
never fasted but when he went to become a Samana he started fasting, he didn’t east for fourteen
days, then twenty-six days and so on. He went to beg for food. He learnt the art of fasting
without the desire of eating and going days without it. A lot of people cannot stay for food as it is
as essential as breathing and drinking water. He had really tamed his desires and wishes by
conquering the arts of fasting, thinking and waiting. Siddhartha was a smart man. He knew no
trade or craft but knew well the fundamental skills required for survival.

Like a veil, like a thin mist, a weariness settled on Siddhartha, slowly, every say a little thicker,
every month a little darker, every year a little heavier. (para, 7.5) : When Siddhartha left from
the grove where he met Buddha he was no more a young boy seeking for knowledge rather a
man who understood the importance of Self and experience and that salvation could be achieved
only if he had knowledge of Self and had his share of experiences. He left and saw the beautiful
world around him, the sky so blue, the river running, the yellow sun which he had always
thought the creation of Maya but forgot to appreciate the beauty of world. On his way he reached
a village where a young woman was on the bank of a river, and he had a urge a new sensation
from the women that he longed since a long time, he kissed her but his inner voice called out for
him and told him “NO”. He apologized and left and slept a night in a ferryman’s hut. Upon
crossing the river with the ferryman, he left for a new town where the person he saw was
Kamala, a beautiful courtesan. He inquired and met her, she told him that he should have the
riches to meet her and she made him acquaint with a merchant called Kamaswami, after
Siddhartha started living with Kamaswama he retained his power to fast, think and wait. But
slowly he got sucked in the worldly things and enjoyed fine clothes, well prepared meal and nice
smelling bathes. Siddhartha then started to wear off, he lost everything that he had learned as a
Samana for 3 years, he had almost forgotten his meeting with the Illustrious One, and it was
more like a faded memory now. Siddhartha, now had submerged himself in the pleasures and
sorrows of the world, which robbed him off his laughter, his mocking attitude of dealing with
everything. He now was a merchant just like Kamaswami. Every day, every month, every year
he changed and added a layer of disillusionment, he lost his colors and sheen. He failed to notice
that, his inward voice that had guided him through his tough times, that had told him to take
decision, let him to new paths, paths of seeking himself, to attain salvation had become silent.
 SECTION III : Relationship with Pain

Relationship with Pain What was Painful? Why?

Govinda wanted to The statement is not We all come into this world as an
follow Siddhartha, the painful in itself and is that individual and have our set of liking
beloved, the of love and compassion. and dislikes, which may or may not be
magnificent. But it invoked pain in me similar to those of our friends. But
because Govinda, too had Govinda in the text is in complete awe
an identity, he had his own of Siddhartha, which aches me to see
path to discover but was him like that, he is a different person
blinded by the love for his and can have different stances and
friend which was painful to position unlike Siddartha. Govinda
me. follows him to become a Samana, did
Govinda even wanted that or was it
because of the pressure that he wanted
to be like Siddhartha and be loved by
all. I have had similar experiences like
Govinda where I have idolized a
person so much that I forgot to even
question and liked same things like
that person just because they were
famous and I wanted to be like that
but forgot I had my own tastes. It
pains me to see someone give up their
own identity.
Siddhartha stood in the Self-harm is painful. This Every religion, every master has their
fierce sun’s rays filled is no way of capturing own teaching but the goal is one
with pain and thirst and senses but is more of a salvation, to end the chakra of life and
stood until he no longer punishment. death. But this way to attain salvation
felt pain and thirst. is only causing pain to oneself, until
 numbness falls upon you and you feel
nothing. But isn’t that what journey to
Self means, to feel everything, every
emotion, to consciously take
decisions, and then decide your path to
towards salvation. Not just punishing
your body to get control of hunger and
worldly threats. I feel that this is just
like school when you do something
wrong you get hit or punished and
then you do not repeat it not because
you have learned because of the fear
of punishment, like negative
reinforcement. Rather it should be like
what we are taught in colleges, we are
old enough to take our decisions, one
right decision takes us to heights other
brings us down, this is where learning
is happening.
Siddhartha was What is it like when you The worldly pleasures are great to
nauseated with himself, feel disgusted from indulge in and sometimes necessary
with his perfumed hair, yourself, from the way you but to forget yourself and keep them
with smell of wine look or smell. The feeling above yourself is something
from his mouth, with of pity for yourself of what dangerous. The main goal of our
soft, flabby appearance you have made out of these living is to find peace, to be in the
from his skin. precious years leading to world but be connected to our self, to
nowhere. Pain here for me distinguish right and wrong. I too have
is the feeling that what if been caught up with the riches of the
one day I wake up and world, once I get one thing, then the
can’t find myself self, can urge of another and another continues.
talk but no voice comes And when I ask myself are, they even
 from the inside. necessary the only obvious answer is
NO. But then why can’t I control
myself? Am I so small in front of
Maya that my power of differentiation
gets lost or the voice I hear from the
inside, and I neglect it. There have
been times I indulged in wrong doings
and I was called upon from my inner
voice and yet I neglected it just like
Siddhartha. This caused me utmost
pain in the entire book and the
probable most relatable part.

SECTION IV: Relationship with love

Relationship with love What was loveable? Why?

Siddhartha goes to his The loveable part in this I personally feel that the most pure
father for seeking context was how Siddhartha and loveable relation in the whole
permission to join the doesn’t scream or shout and world is that of a parent and child. A
samanas, but his father just stands there until he his parent will never want their child to
says he shouldn’t hear father tells him to go and through anything bad, if possible,
this request the second follow the Samanas. The love they will take it upon themselves but
time but of father for his son, that night never let their child be hurt.
Siddhartha keeps Siddhartha kept standing even Siddhartha was up all night standing
standing there. though his legs started to to wait for his fathers reply, his
tremble but his father too father too couldn’t sleep, and would
could not sleep, seeing his son check on Siddhartha after every
in pain. The bond between the hour, he could see his legs trembling
two is so pure and beautiful. but his faith intact and his decision
made. Only a parent knows when
their child is big enough to take their
own decision and they help them go
 further and never pull them back.
My father has always been
protective of me every time but he
has also embraced the adventurous
person in me, and allowed me to
have my expeditions even though he
will tell me to be careful, but he has
always been there for me come what
may.
Siddhartha realizes Love here is shown by Love for me is only when it is
that he had lost Vasudeva’s acceptance for unconditional, when you don’t want
himself when he went Siddhartha how he tells him anything from the other person,
to the town and his that you have learnt from the purest in its form. Love for me has
abilities to think, fast river and there is much to come from my parents, my friends.
and wait and now was learn and you can stay with Since a child I have been an
an ordinary man. He me. Vasudeva is the only true extrovert and had many friends but
renounces everything loving friend, Siddhartha has today I have very few friends left
and goes back to the in the book. Samanas, Monks and those are the ones who don’t
river and ferryman and and everyone else welcomed want anything but my well being,
starts to live with him. him but for growing their they have advised me and comforted
disciples and teachings not for me in my hard times, not because
the purpose of learning. But they go anything out of this but
Vasudeva has no selfish because they really considered me a
interest but to offer love. friend and have the love for me. I
can say this with utmost confidence
because we had our share of ups and
downs but nothing, literally nothing
tore us apart, rather we got to know
each other well and more intimately.
The understanding only increased.
When Siddhartha met Siddhartha had never seen his A Parent loves his child in any and
his son, he did not son, did not even know he had every condition, Siddhartha too
recognize him a son, but as soon as he saw loved his son even though he knew
immediately but his that his son was alone and the he created problems for him and
face reminded him of only person, he trusted his Vasudeva. But he was explained by
something. Later he mother had died, he become Vasudeva that was just a child and
saw kamala and agitated, but Siddhartha felt he had habit of luxuries and could
immediately bad for him. His love for his not sleep in his hut. But Siddhartha
recognized his son. son had no boundaries even wanted his son to choose the right
After Kamala died, he though his son did not path and stay calm, but all he could
tried to calm his son, consider him his father, would do was push him away. As being a
to talk to him but he not listen to him. stubborn child, I have given my
would only ignore parents a hard time too and I can
him, throw tantrums realize and feel the pain that I have
and was reminded of caused them but they never
his mother. abandoned me. They told me what is
right or wrong for me, even I took
decision not good for me, they
supported and helped me. The love I
have received from them, I cannot
put in words. I could relate to
Siddhartha and his son very closely
on these terms. To handle a child
with tantrums and crying and
hauling each day is not a easy task.
And needs to love and compassion
to handle with.
 SECTION V: Relationship with Suffering

Relationship with What was the Suffering? Why?

Suffering
When Siddhartha started to Siddhartha suffered internally Suffering for me is like when
live with Kamaswami, in as he got caught up in the the sky is choking on the
order to afford riches for world of riches and wanted to clouds, can’t decide whether to
Kamala, he slowly got possess more. Before when he rain or to show sun rays or have
engrossed in everything, lost a consignment or had a clear blue sky. This feeling I
like drinking wine, playing losses, he laughed it off got when I read this part in
dice, he forgot to laugh and easily, but soon they started to Siddhartha, he reached a point
mock at things that didn’t bother him and anxiety would where he did not know what he
matter but slowly it all take over, to get rid of the was doing, why he was doing. I
started to bother him. anxiety he would indulge in can relate to this as I have had
playing dice and gambling. similar experiences when I am
He was suffering inside but he full of emotions and decided to
was getting trapped even quit a bad habit but yet again
more. resort to it during my difficult
time because it makes my
senses numb, it tells me
everything is okay and some
how I think I can feel better and
think clear. The suffering in real
hasn’t released more over its for
time being that I escape it. YES.
Its just and escape for me,
although the suffering inside me
continues to haunt me. This
kind of mechanism I often
indulge into whenever I feel
anxious or feel I am surrounded
with a problem I do not have
 the capacity to deal with.
In the first chapter ‘The The suffering can be seen in I feel suffering and pain are
Brahmin’s Son’, the author two parallels that the author interconnected yet suffering is
has described how has drawn for us, one side he something that kills you on the
Siddhartha was a good son, is the prodigy child and inside. Suffering in love,
make his parents proud, all perfect at everything he does. suffering mentally, suffering
the boys looked up to him And the other side is inside with questions like Siddhartha
as he had read the vedas, Siddhartha’s heart where he did. Suffering of any kind is no
could perform sacrifices, questions his existence, about good to anyone. I have suffered
could meditate and the atman, about the meaning of too not once or twice but to
young girls loved him the sacrifices, the rituals. The fight the demons within me, to
when he crossed the street. suffering is in terms of not see through, hoping for a ray of
But he had questions, he finding answers to his light to help me, to not resort
had suffering, insatiate questions, to the troubled back to things that help me
knowledge and desire. heart and mind, the thirst of escape. I have suffered and not
knowledge he is unable to told deep secrets within me and
quench. cried and could not let it out
because they are mine to deal
with, and can’t be shared, no
body shares their demons. But
over time I have learnt to
suppress these sufferings, told
myself everything is okay and
learnt how to forget how to
bury; the suffering will increase
the day this box opens up and
when I have to make peace with
it; till then I shall suffer and
smile for the world to know that
I am okay.
SECTION VI: Relationship with Self in terms of the text and my life

I have read Siddhartha for the third or the fourth time now and every time there are new
revelations, new phrases and sentences I relate to, new meanings I find, connotations I attach to
the characters for what they did and why they did. I personally feel this book is of the kind that
one cannot understand at a go, and it ever changing yet the same, just the river where Siddhartha
and Vasudeva resided. If I am to read this book after a year, my understanding is bound to
change maybe more intensely I understand it, or probably different context to attach this
understanding to.

In the book I find myself in the chapter Samsara, Samsara means the cycle of everyday
In Hinduism and Buddhist idea of rebirth, Samsara comes to mean the cycle of perpetual
existence, that is birth, death, and rebirth in eternal repetition. The deity can break this cycle or
adjust his by his grace save one from the future birth’s based upon their actions. I consider
myself as an agnostic, who believes in a higher power, but dismisses idol worship and the idea of
religion and worship. Worship the lord, the one who can save us from Samsara. I have been
brought up in a family where they don’t follow any customs or rules or regulations relating to
religion, since birth I have never seen my parents go to temples or mosque or any worship place
but one thing, they believe in is Meditation. I too have developed an interest in meditation and
how it helps me to calm and to indulge in reflexive thinking, my inner voice guiding me through
my days. I read books based on Spirituality. That’s who I think I am.

Finding myself in the chapter of Samsara, to me means that I too am like Siddhartha
caught up in Maya and riches of world, the want to possess everything but again when I
meditate, I question myself why do I indulge in such things that are temporary and mean nothing.
This seems like a never-ending vicious cycle of indulgence and questioning. I try to refrain but I
do it anyway and then the load of guilt and dissatisfaction dawns upon me, making me hate
myself. There are days I do not shut my inner voice and listen and abide but then I realize the life
it takes out of me to refrain myself from doing things that I love and consider permanent, which
of course are not. Reading Siddhartha for the first I quiet did not understand its meaning in my
life and did not relate but the second time, it hit me like a roof has fallen. I could relate to
Siddhartha coming from groves of Buddha and yet falling for Kamala and as she said he
indulged in riches but sustained himself from falling a prey. He still posses his essential qualities
of fasting, waiting and thinking. I too like Siddhartha forgot my real purpose in life and feel for
harmful things, toxic in my life, people who are temporary, I gave them the utmost importance.
Siddhartha spent 20 years of his life caught in up being an ordinary person he thought he never
would be. But he too started to drink wine, eat meat, liked fine clothes, played dice and enjoyed
women. Realization came to him very late but it did come and he did leave all the things, and
went to find his ultimate goal, his nauseated feeling of himself made him leave. But for me I do
realize, I do think, I do know these are wrong and yet again I fail to distance myself from these. I
feel we have come in the world with a purpose the purpose of ending the life and death cycle, but
because renouncing our family and responsibility is not an easy way to attain salvation, and the
lord has sent us to fulfill the responsibility, but to also tell us that our main goal lies somewhere
else and we shall not get entangled in the folly of what life has planned for us to make us
disillusioned.

And yet here I stand after so much thinking and deliberation, to fall back to the world, to come
back into the cycle of life and death? No, this is not what I want, is it a day that I might leave
everything and then start a new life like Siddhartha or is it a conscious decision I have to take for
myself? Comparing myself to Siddhartha is a petty thing to do as he was enlightened and I am no
where close to it. I am caught between the right and the wrong, the path to choose and how to
abandon and get my will to take a stand and to start a new.

Till then I shall try.