With a half-smile, with unshakeable clarity and friendliness, Gotama looked the stranger in the eye and took his leave of him with barely noticeable gesture.
"You are clever, samana," the venerable one said. "Your arguments, my friend, are very clever. Take care that you do not become too clever!"
The buddha walked slowly away, and his look and his half smile remained forever engraved in Siddhartha's memory.
I have never before seen anyone look and smile, sit and walk, like this man, he thought to himself. I truly hope that I, too, will be able to look and to smile, to sit and to walk as he does, so free, so venerable, so hidden, so open, so child-like and private. It is only the man who has penetrated to his innermost self who is truly able to look and to walk in this way. I, too, will do my utmost to penetrate to my innermost self.
I have seen one man, Siddhartha thought, just one, to whom I had to lower my eyes. I will not lower my eyes to any other man, not anyone. I will not be drawn into any teachings, as I was not drawn into the teachings of this man.
I was robbed by this buddha, Siddhartha thought, he robbed me, but he gave me much more. He robbed me of my friend, of him who had faith in me and now has faith in him, of him who was my shadow and is now the shadow of Gotama. But he made the gift to me, to Siddhartha, of myself.
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