Siddhartha thanked her and laughed, and when he told her he had eaten nothing that day or the previous day she had bread and fruit brought for him to eat.
“You have been lucky,” she told him as he left, “one door after another is opening up for you. How could that be possible? Are you performing magic?”
Siddhartha said, “Yesterday I told you I know how to think, to wait, and to fast, but you thought that would be of no use. But it is very useful, Kamala, you will see. You will see that the stupid samanas in the wood learn to know and to do many nice things that you do not know how to do. Two days ago I was just a ragged beggar, one day ago I had already kissed Kamala, and soon I will be a businessman with money and with all the things that you think are important.”
“I expect you will,” she conceded. “But where would you be without me? What would become of you if Kamala did not help you?”
“Dear Kamala,” said Siddhartha, standing up straight, “when I came to you in your grove it was I who made the first step. I was resolved to learn the art of love from this most beautiful of women. From the very moment when I formed this resolution I also knew that I would succeed in it. I knew that you would help me, I knew it from the moment I first glimpsed you at the entrance to the grove.”
“What if I had not wanted to?”
“You did want to. Kamala, listen: if you throw a stone into water it drops quickly to the bottom by the fastest route it can. Siddhartha does nothing, he waits, he thinks, he fasts, but he goes through the things of the world like a stone through water without doing anything, without making any effort; he is drawn, he lets himself fall. His objective pulls him to itself, for he allows nothing into his soul that might work against his objective. That, Kamala, is what Siddhartha learnt among the samanas. That, Kamala, is what fools call magic in the supposition that it is performed by demons. Nothing is ever performed by demons, there are no demons. Anyone can perform magic, anyone can attain his objectives if he is capable of thought, if he is capable of waiting, if he is capable of fasting.”
Kamala listened to him. She loved his voice, she loved the look in his eyes.
“Maybe, my friend,” she said quietly, “you are right in what you say. Maybe it is also true that Siddhartha is an attractive man, that the look of him will appeal to women, maybe that is what brings him all his luck.”
With a kiss, Siddhartha took his leave. “I hope you are right, my teacher. I hope the look of me will always please you, I hope you will always bring me luck!”