“When someone is seeking,” said Siddhartha, “it is very easy for his eye to see nothing but the thing sought, that he is unable to find, unable to receive into himself anything because he thinks only of that which he seeks, because he has an objective, because he is obsessed with that objective. Seeking means having an objective, but finding means being free, being receptive, having no objective. It could be, venerable sir, that you are indeed a seeker, for in your efforts to reach your objective you fail to see many things that are close before your eyes.”
“I still do not quite understand,” Govinda asked, “how do you mean that?”
Siddhartha said, “Once before, venerable sir, many years ago, you were beside this river, and you found there a man who was sleeping, and you sat down beside him to watch over him as he slept. But, Govinda, you did not recognise this sleeper.”
Astonished as if bewitched, the monk looked into the ferryman’s eyes.
“You are Siddhartha?” he asked, in timid voice. “Again, I failed to recognise you! Hearty greetings, Siddhartha, I am heartily glad to see you again! You have changed so much, my friend - and now, you have become a ferryman?”
Siddhartha gave a friendly laugh. “Yes, Govinda, a ferryman. There are many who have to go through many changes, have to wear many different clothes, and I am one of them, my friend. Welcome Govinda! Come and stay the night in my hut.”
Govinda did stay the night in the hut and he slept in the place which had formerly been Vasudeva’s bed. He had many questions to put to his childhood friend, Siddhartha had to recount many episodes of his life to him.
The following morning came and it was time for Govinda to resume his wandering. Govinda said, with some hesitation, “Before I continue my journey, Siddhartha, let me ask you one more thing. Do you have a doctrine? Do you have a belief or a knowledge that you follow and which helps you through life and to do the right thing?”
Siddhartha said, “My friend, you know that when I was a young man, living with you and the other penitents in the woods, that I had already begun to mistrust doctrines and their teachers, and so I turned my back on them. I have not changed my view. I have nonetheless had many teachers since that time. There was a beautiful courtesan who was my teacher for a long time, and a rich businessman was my teacher, as well as several gamblers. One time there was even a wandering disciple of the Buddha who was my teacher; he was on pilgrimage but he sat beside me while I was asleep in the woods. I learned from him too, and I am grateful to him too, very grateful. But most of all, I have learned from the river here, and from my predecessor, Vasudeva the ferryman. He was a very simple man, Vasudeva, he was not a thinker but he knew the important things as well as Gotama, he was a perfect man, he was a holy man.”
“I think you’re mocking me again, Siddhartha,” said Govinda. “I believe you and I both know that you have never followed any teacher. But even if you have never followed a teacher have you not had certain thoughts, found certain kinds of knowledge yourself, knowledge which is your own and which have helped you through life? If you would like to tell me something of this it would bring joy to my heart.”