Becoming a merchant with Kamaswami

Siddhartha's decision to become a merchant with Kamaswami is the pivotal step in his deliberate immersion into the world of the 'childlike people,' a phase that follows his awakening from asceticism and his encounter with the courtesan Kamala. Having resolved to learn love from Kamala, he accepts her condition that he must acquire fine clothes, shoes, and money. Acting on her advice, he presents himself to Kamaswami, the richest merchant in the city, and is taken into his service. From the outset, Siddhartha approaches commerce not as a vocation but as a game, a means to an end: the money and status required to be Kamala's lover. He tells Kamaswami that his abilities are to think, to wait, and to fast—skills he learned as a Samana—and he treats the merchant's business affairs with a calm detachment that Kamaswami finds both baffling and effective.

Life in Kamaswami's House

Siddhartha moves into Kamaswami's rich house, where he is given clothes, shoes, and a daily bath. He eats only once a day, abstaining from meat and wine, and never becomes subservient to the merchant, forcing Kamaswami to treat him as an equal. He quickly learns the mechanics of trade—writing contracts, discussing rice and wool, shipping and calculations—but his soul is never with the business. Kamaswami observes that Siddhartha has no passion for commerce, yet possesses a mysterious quality that brings success as if by magic; he is never afraid of failure, never upset by a loss. When Kamaswami, on a friend's advice, offers Siddhartha a third of the profits in exchange for liability for a third of the losses, Siddhartha accepts with equanimity, laughing when he makes a loss. On a trip to buy rice, he finds the harvest already sold to another merchant, but instead of returning in haste, he stays for several days, treating farmers to drink, giving copper coins to their children, and joining a wedding. Kamaswami scolds him for wasting time and money, but Siddhartha replies that he has gained friendship and knowledge, and that scolding achieves nothing. He tells Kamaswami that if the day comes when Siddhartha harms him, he will leave on his own path; until then, they should be satisfied with one another.

Spiritual Detachment and the Game of Commerce

Siddhartha's interest in people—their businesses, worries, pleasures, and foolishness—is that of a curious spectator, not a participant. He sees them toiling for money, little pleasures, and slight honors, suffering over deprivations a Samana would not feel, and he loves and despises them at the same time. He treats the rich foreign merchant no differently than the servant who shaves him or the street vendor who cheats him on bananas. He gives advice, makes gifts, lets himself be cheated a little, and watches the entire game with the same absorption he once gave to the gods and Brahmans. Yet deep in his chest, a dying, quiet voice occasionally laments that real life is passing him by. He feels that he is only playing with business deals and people, while the source of his being runs somewhere far away, invisible. He wishes he could participate with passion and heart, really to live and enjoy, instead of standing by as a spectator. But he returns again and again to Kamala, learning the art of love, and she understands him better than Govinda ever did.

The Slow Descent into Worldliness

Years pass, and Siddhartha hardly feels them. He becomes rich, owns a house, servants, and a garden by the river. The high, bright state of awakening he experienced after leaving Gotama slowly fades into memory. The holy source that once murmured within him becomes distant and quiet. His senses, which he had killed as a Samana, awaken; he learns to wear beautiful clothes, give orders, bathe in perfumed waters, eat tenderly prepared food, drink wine, play dice, and sleep on a soft bed. Yet he still feels different from and superior to the childlike people, watching them with mocking disdain. But slowly, imperceptibly, his mockery grows tired, his superiority quiet. He envies the childlike people for the passion they attach to their lives, the sweet happiness of being constantly in love—with themselves, with women, with children, with money. He cannot learn this joy from them; instead, he learns their unpleasant traits: discontent, sickliness, ill-humor, sloth, and a lack of love. The disease of the soul that rich people have grabs hold of him. Tiredness comes over him like a veil, getting denser every day, and the bright, reliable voice inside him that once guided him becomes silent.

The Grip of Greed and Gambling

Siddhartha is finally captured by the vice he once most despised: greed. Property and riches become a shackle and a burden. He begins to play dice for money and precious things with increasing rage and passion, becoming a feared gambler who stakes high sums. He gambles because of a pain in his heart; losing and wasting money brings him an angry joy, a way to demonstrate his disdain for wealth. He wins thousands, throws away thousands, loses money, jewelry, a house in the country, wins again, loses again. He loves the fear he feels while rolling the dice, seeking to renew and increase it, for in that feeling alone he still finds something like happiness, an intoxication in his otherwise dull life. After each big loss, he pursues trade more zealously, forces debtors to pay more strictly, so he can continue gambling. He loses his calmness, his patience, his kindness toward beggars. He who once laughed at losing tens of thousands becomes strict and petty in business, occasionally dreaming about money at night. He flees from this ugly spell into new games, into sex and wine, and then back into the urge to pile up possessions, running in a pointless cycle, growing tired, old, and ill.

The End of the Game

The dream of a dead singing bird in a golden cage warns Siddhartha that the game is over. He realizes that his life has been a comedy, a game for children called Sansara, which he can no longer play. He leaves his garden and the city at night, never to return. Kamaswami has people look for him, but Kamala does not; she had always expected his departure. When she learns of his disappearance, she opens the cage of her rare singing bird and lets it fly. She later discovers she is pregnant from their last time together. Siddhartha, now stripped of wealth and purpose, walks to the river where he once intended to drown himself, and there, in the moment of utter despair, the sound of Om awakens him to a new beginning. He later reflects that he had boasted to Kamala of three feats: fasting, waiting, and thinking. In his years as a merchant, he had given them up for the most wretched things—sensual lust, the good life, riches. Now, standing under the sun again with nothing, he laughs at himself and begins again as a child.