{"product_id":"2940012318671","title":"SIDDHARTHA","description":"THE SON OF THE BRAHMAN\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the shade of the house, in the sunshine of the riverbank near the\u003cbr\u003eboats, in the shade of the Sal-wood forest, in the shade of the fig tree\u003cbr\u003eis where Siddhartha grew up, the handsome son of the Brahman, the young\u003cbr\u003efalcon, together with his friend Govinda, son of a Brahman.  The sun\u003cbr\u003etanned his light shoulders by the banks of the river when bathing,\u003cbr\u003eperforming the sacred ablutions, the sacred offerings.  In the mango\u003cbr\u003egrove, shade poured into his black eyes, when playing as a boy, when\u003cbr\u003ehis mother sang, when the sacred offerings were made, when his father,\u003cbr\u003ethe scholar, taught him, when the wise men talked.  For a long time,\u003cbr\u003eSiddhartha had been partaking in the discussions of the wise men,\u003cbr\u003epractising debate with Govinda, practising with Govinda the art of\u003cbr\u003ereflection, the service of meditation.  He already knew how to speak the\u003cbr\u003eOm silently, the word of words, to speak it silently into himself while\u003cbr\u003einhaling, to speak it silently out of himself while exhaling, with all\u003cbr\u003ethe concentration of his soul, the forehead surrounded by the glow of\u003cbr\u003ethe clear-thinking spirit.  He already knew to feel Atman in the depths\u003cbr\u003eof his being, indestructible, one with the universe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJoy leapt in his father's heart for his son who was quick to learn,\u003cbr\u003ethirsty for knowledge; he saw him growing up to become great wise man\u003cbr\u003eand priest, a prince among the Brahmans.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBliss leapt in his mother's breast when she saw him, when she saw him\u003cbr\u003ewalking, when she saw him sit down and get up, Siddhartha, strong,\u003cbr\u003ehandsome, he who was walking on slender legs, greeting her with perfect\u003cbr\u003erespect.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLove touched the hearts of the Brahmans' young daughters when\u003cbr\u003eSiddhartha walked through the lanes of the town with the luminous\u003cbr\u003eforehead, with the eye of a king, with his slim hips.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut more than all the others he was loved by Govinda, his friend, the\u003cbr\u003eson of a Brahman.  He loved Siddhartha's eye and sweet voice, he loved\u003cbr\u003ehis walk and the perfect decency of his movements, he loved everything\u003cbr\u003eSiddhartha did and said and what he loved most was his spirit, his\u003cbr\u003etranscendent, fiery thoughts, his ardent will, his high calling.\u003cbr\u003eGovinda knew: he would not become a common Brahman, not a lazy official\u003cbr\u003ein charge of offerings; not a greedy merchant with magic spells; not a\u003cbr\u003evain, vacuous speaker; not a mean, deceitful priest; and also not a\u003cbr\u003edecent, stupid sheep in the herd of the many.  No, and he, Govinda, as\u003cbr\u003ewell did not want to become one of those, not one of those tens of\u003cbr\u003ethousands of Brahmans.  He wanted to follow Siddhartha, the beloved,\u003cbr\u003ethe splendid.  And in days to come, when Siddhartha would become a god,\u003cbr\u003ewhen he would join the glorious, then Govinda wanted to follow him as\u003cbr\u003ehis friend, his companion, his servant, his spear-carrier, his shadow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSiddhartha was thus loved by everyone.  He was a source of joy for\u003cbr\u003eeverybody, he was a delight for them all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut he, Siddhartha, was not a source of joy for himself, he found no\u003cbr\u003edelight in himself.  Walking the rosy paths of the fig tree garden,\u003cbr\u003esitting in the bluish shade of the grove of contemplation, washing his\u003cbr\u003elimbs daily in the bath of repentance, sacrificing in the dim shade of\u003cbr\u003ethe mango forest, his gestures of perfect decency, everyone's love and\u003cbr\u003ejoy, he still lacked all joy in his heart.  Dreams and restless thoughts\u003cbr\u003ecame into his mind, flowing from the water of the river, sparkling from\u003cbr\u003ethe stars of the night, melting from the beams of the sun, dreams came\u003cbr\u003eto him and a restlessness of the soul, fuming from the sacrifices,\u003cbr\u003ebreathing forth from the verses of the Rig-Veda, being infused into him,\u003cbr\u003edrop by drop, from the teachings of the old Brahmans.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSiddhartha had started to nurse discontent in himself, he had started\u003cbr\u003eto feel that the love of his father and the love of his mother, and also\u003cbr\u003ethe love of his friend, Govinda, would not bring him joy for ever and\u003cbr\u003eever, would not nurse him, feed him, satisfy him.  He had started to\u003cbr\u003esuspect that his venerable father and his other teachers, that the wise\u003cbr\u003eBrahmans had already revealed to him the most and best of their wisdom,\u003cbr\u003ethat they had already filled his expecting vessel with their richness,\u003cbr\u003eand the vessel was not full, the spirit was not content, the soul was\u003cbr\u003enot calm, the heart was not satisfied.  The ablutions were good, but\u003cbr\u003ethey were water, they did not wash off the sin, they did not heal the\u003cbr\u003espirit's thirst, they did not relieve the fear in his heart.  The\u003cbr\u003esacrifices and the invocation of the gods were excellent--but was that\u003cbr\u003eall?  Did the sacrifices give a happy fortune?  And what about the gods?\u003cbr\u003eWas it really Prajapati who had created the world?  Was it not the\u003cbr\u003eAtman, He, the only one, the singular one?","brand":"SAP","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47073389740272,"sku":"2940012318671","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940012318671_p0.jpg?v=1763554844","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940012318671","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}