Thursday, March 11, 2010

Worled Lit Two

“When she first heard news of Siddhartha's disappearance, she went to the window where she kept a rare songbird in a golden cage. She opened the door of the cage, took out the bird, and let it fly away. For a long time she looked after the disappearing bird. From that day she received no more and she kept her house closed. After a time, she found that she was with child as a result of her last meeting with Siddhartha.”(85) During the months of her pregnancy, she allowed only one person to come into her home, her tutor and midwife, Naldeena. The birth of Siddhartha was an especially gruelingly excruciating. The heat alone made the labor miserable. “Siddhartha has wronged me,” she sobbed in agony, “He left me here, in this town and with child. I teach him how to love and he returns the lessons with the tortures of birthing his child and running away.” However when she gazed into his eyes for the first time she saw the same look in his eye she loved ,that his father had when they were together. As Siddhartha grew, Naldeena and Kamala would go down to the garden, where she and Siddhartha met. There Naldeena would teach her how to read and write. Kamala had learned to read and write by the time young Siddhartha was nine months of age. Kamala soon collected all the scriptures that Siddhartha had spoke of over the years. She read them all repeatedly. She was now able to see what made Siddhartha so eager to learn more and gain new experiences. She learned that simply reading these scriptures and learning the incantations would not be enough she would have to visit the village where Siddhartha himself was born and learn all about being a Brahmin. She left little Siddhartha in the hands of Naldeena. She wandered in the woods for hours and then came upon a river. And although she’d never before seen this river before,
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she felt that in some way it called to her trying to tell her something. But she was unable to understand. The Ferryman who had taken a man across the river was returning ever so quickly. “Will you take me across?” she said, “I am in search of the Brahma Village. I’ve come to the conclusion that it is a few days journey past this river” The Ferryman replied, “Indeed the village is not such a great distance away. I shall take you across.” The Ferryman held the boat a steady as he could, “Now be careful good woman, the current is strong today, if you fall in it will sweep you away. “ “No need to fret kind man, I shall be careful.” “What is your name sir?” she asked. “Vasudeva,” he replied, “and your name?” “Kamala.” She watched carefully as Vasudeva row the boat swiftly yet gently across the river. She wondered to herself if Siddhartha had past this river on his way to a different life. The speculation of this got to her as she broke the silence, “Excuse me, but have you seen a Samana sometime in the past few months?” He chuckled a little, “Yes I have, everyday in fact. He works with me by the river. He has “learned to look after the boat, and when there was nothing to do at the ferry, he would work in the rice field with Vasudeva, gathered wood, and picked fruit from the banana trees. He learned how to make oars, how to improve the boat and to make baskets.” (106) Kamala was astonished. Reaching the other side of the river she asked Vasudeva, “May I see him sir?” “Yes you can see him however you must only see him you can not talk to him or even make him aware of your presence.” “Okay” she replied. She went to the rice field and watched his work for what seemed like hours. The heat of the day had hit by the time she left him. How she longed to talk to him and allow him to know of the joyous birth of his son. However she kept her promise to Vasudeva
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and continued on her journey. When she arrived in the Brahma Village, she asked around to see if they could recall Siddhartha. The majority did not however there was one older gentleman who sat outside his house, on a mat made of bast. “Sir,” she said, “do you remember a young lad who lived here several years ago named Siddhartha.” His faces lit up at the sound of that name. “Siddhartha is my son. He said, “He left his mother and I several years ago, to become a Samana. His mother has long since past. Where have you last seen my boy?” “He was finding inner peace beside a river working with a Ferryman “she said. “ I was hoping to explore the path to my own inner peace. Will you teach me the ways of the Brahmin?” He was shocked by her question. He’d never before been approached by a woman and asked to point down the path of enlightenment. He agreed to do it. For years she stayed with him and learned all the important things about being a Brahmin. She even learned to say the holy “Om” silently. The old scriptures and incantations became the only importance as a Brahmin. However, just as Siddhartha, she grew more and more discontented with the life of a Brahmin. She yearned to learn all the wisdom she could and find her path to inner peace. She decided that the time was right branch of this path with another and pursue the life of a Samana. She graciously thanked Siddhartha’s father for his hospitality and teachings. Before she set out to the forest she wrote to her son of the things she’d learned with the Brahmin. She was accepted into the colony of Samanas. She wore only an unstitched cloak. She only ate once a day, and fasted for many more. She wanted learn to be empty. Empty of the need to be necessity and want. She wanted to learn to conquer the pains and
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frustrations of life. She learned as Siddhartha, with the utmost speed and precision. After just a year with the Samanas she had learned “meditation, holding of breath and insensibility towards hunger and pain” (16) However, her rapid ability to learn made Kamala bored, and unable to fill her thirst for inner peace. So at dawn she wondered out of the woods and back towards the river. She swam across the Ferryman’s river, for the current was not strong and the water not deep. She returns to her village and soon gets word that her little Siddhartha is gravely ill. She cleans herself up lays beside her sickly child for days. Naldeena dies from a scorpion sting weeks after Kamala’s return and Kamala stays with her child. After that, she presented her gardens to the Gotama’s monks. She soon found refuge in the teachings of the Gotama, and belonged to the women and benefactresses attached to the pilgrims. When he recovers from his illness the lessons she’d promised begin. She teaches him to read and to write as Naldeena had. She reads the scriptures and helps him memorize the incantations learned with the Brahmin. She teaches him of the ways of the Samana. Sometimes they fasted for weeks. She teaches him to say the holy “Om” silently during his meditations. Siddhartha is also taught of the Illustrious one and all the things his mother knows of them. When the child is eleven years of age, Kamala hears word of Gotama’s rapidly approaching death and decides to visit and pay respects. Wearing simple clothes Kamala and her son set off for the Buddha. The trip was long and young Siddhartha grew tired often and would whine of being tired and hungry. As they reached the river, they stopped to take a rest. While he ate a banana, “she crouched down on the ground, closed her eyes a bit, and rested. But suddenly, she uttered a cry of pain. The boy, startled, looked at her
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saw her face white with horror. From under her clothes a small black snake, which had bitten Kamala, crawled away.” They ran to the ferry but alas Kamala could not got further. The poison was circulating throughout her body making her ache all over. Vasudeva heard the cries of help and got her to his hut as fast as possible. At the hut, Kamala was placed upon Siddhartha’s bed and gained consciousness. She and Siddhartha exchanged a few words. She told him that the boy who accompanied her was his son. She soon fell out of consciousness. Once again, Kamala returned to consciousness. Pain distorted her face; Siddhartha's eyes read the suffering on her mouth, on her pale cheeks. Quietly, he read it, attentively, waiting, his mind becoming one with her suffering. Kamala felt it, her gaze sought his eyes. Looking at him, she said: "Now I see that your eyes have changed as well. They've become completely different. By what do I still recognize that you're Siddhartha? It's you, and it's not you." Siddhartha said nothing; quietly his eyes looked at hers. "You have achieved it?" she asked. "You have found peace?" He smiled and placed his hand on hers. "I'm seeing it," she said, "I'm seeing it. I too will find peace." "You have found it," Siddhartha spoke in a whisper. “(113) It is true Kamala had finally found inner peace. By simply by sharing the truth of the paternity of her son, she allowed herself the freedom to be at peace. As she came to this realization, her eyes began to close and with her final breath she said “I love you.”

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