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 kept him in their sight.
The buddha followed his path with humility and deep in thought, the peaceful expression on his face was neither gay nor sad, it seemed to show a gentle inward contentment. With a hidden smile, quiet, peaceful, not unlike a healthy child, the buddha wandered on, wearing his robes and placing his feet in the same way as all his monks, in the way that was prescribed. But his face, his gait, his quiet lowered eyes, his hands hanging quietly from his arms, and even every finger on his quietly hanging hands spoke of peace, spoke of perfection, sought nothing, copied nothing, breathed gently with a peace that could not fade, in a light that could not fade, a peace that could not be touched.
So, Gotama walked on slowly towards the town where he would gather alms, and the two samanas knew him simply from the perfection of his peace, the stillness of his form where no searching, no desire, no imitation, no striving could be seen, only light and peace.
"Today, we will hear the teachings from his own mouth," said Govinda.
Siddhartha made no answer. He had less curiosity about the teachings, he did not believe they would teach him anything new, even though, like Govinda, he had heard many times about what the teachings of this buddha contained, albeit from the reports he had heard at second or third hand. But he looked attentively at Gotama's head, at his shoulders, at his feet, at his hand as it hung there without moving, and it seemed to him that every part of every finger of that hand held a lesson, spoke, breathed, was fragrant and shone with truth. This man, this buddha, was truthful down to every movement of every finger. This man was holy. Siddhartha had never felt such veneration for anyone, he had never loved anyone as much as this man.
The two of them followed the buddha into the town and then they quietly turned back, as they too hoped to obtain food for themselves before the end of day. They saw Gotama as he too came back, saw him surrounded by his followers as they took their meal—what he ate was not enough to feed a bird—and they saw him withdraw into the shade of the mango trees.
But when evening came, when the heat of the day had lessened and everyone in the camp became more active and gathered together, they heard the buddha speak. They heard his voice, and even that was a thing of perfection, of perfect stillness, of complete peace. Gotama taught the lesson of suffering, of the origin of suffering, of the way that leads to the removal of suffering. His speech flowed on, calm, peaceful and clear, it was. Life was sorrow, the world was full of suffering, but release from suffering could be found: release would be found by him who followed the way of the buddha. The noble one spoke in a voice that was gentle but firm, he taught of the four principal doctrines, he taught of the eight-fold path, the circle of reincarnation, his voice, clear and quiet, remained above his listeners like a light, like a star in the firmament.
Night had fallen before the buddha came to the end of his speech. Many pilgrims came forward and asked to be accepted into his community, sought refuge in the teachings. Gotama did accept