I went and learned the art of love with Kamala, learned trading with Kamaswami, piled up money, wasted money, learned to love my stomach, learned to please my senses.  I had to spend many years losing my spirit, to unlearn thinking again, to forget the oneness.  Isn’t it just as if I had turned slowly and on a long detour from a man into a child, from a thinker into a childlike person?  And yet, this path has been very good; and yet, the bird in my chest has not died.  But what a path has this been!  I had to pass through so much stupidity, through so much vices, through so many errors, through so much disgust and disappointments and woe, just to become a child again and to be able to start over.  But it was right so, my heart says “Yes” to it, my eyes smile to it.  I’ve had to experience despair, I’ve had to sink down to the most foolish one of all thoughts, to the thought of suicide, in order to be able to experience divine grace, to hear Om again, to be able to sleep properly and awake properly again.  I had to become a fool, to find Atman in me again.  I had to sin, to be able to live again.  Where else might my path lead me to?  It is foolish, this path, it moves in loops, perhaps it is going around in a circle.  Let it go as it likes, I want to to take it.

Wonderfully, he felt joy rolling like waves in his chest.

Wherever from, he asked his heart, where from did you get this happiness?  Might it come from that long, good sleep, which has done me so good?  Or from the word Om, which I said?  Or from the fact that I have escaped, that I have completely fled, that I am finally free again and am standing like a child under the sky?  Oh how good is it to have fled, to have become free!  How clean and beautiful is the air here, how good to breathe!  There, where I ran away from, there everything smelled of ointments, of spices, of wine, of excess, of sloth.  How did I hate this world of the rich, of those who revel in fine food, of the gamblers!  How did I hate myself for staying in this terrible world for so long!  How did I hate myself, have deprive, poisoned, tortured myself, have made myself old and evil!  No, never again I will, as I used to like doing so much, delude myself into thinking that Siddhartha was wise!  But this one thing I have done well, this I like, this I must praise, that there is now an end to that hatred against myself, to that foolish and dreary life!  I praise you, Siddhartha, after so many years of foolishness, you have once again had an idea, have done something, have heard the bird in your chest singing and have followed it!