Dice

The dice appear in Siddhartha's story as a concrete emblem of his entanglement in the world of the childlike people, marking the final and most degrading stage of his captivity by material desires. They are not merely a game but a tool through which Siddhartha acts out his self-hatred, his disdain for wealth, and his desperate search for feeling in a life grown numb.

The Dice as a Gateway to Greed and Self-Loathing

Siddhartha had learned to play with dice and on a chess-board, to watch dancing girls, to have himself carried about in a sedan-chair, to sleep on a soft bed. But the dice game became something far more than a pastime. It was since that time, when he had stopped being a Samana in his heart, that Siddhartha began to play the game for money and precious things, which he at other times only joined with a smile and casually as a custom of the childlike people, with an increasing rage and passion. He was a feared gambler, few dared to take him on, so high and audacious were his stakes. He played the game due to a pain of his heart, losing and wasting his wretched money in the game brought him an angry joy, in no other way could he demonstrate his disdain for wealth, the merchants' false god, more clearly and more mockingly. Thus he gambled with high stakes and mercilessly, hating himself, mocking himself, won thousands, threw away thousands, lost money, lost jewelry, lost a house in the country, won again, lost again. That fear, that terrible and petrifying fear, which he felt while he was rolling the dice, while he was worried about losing high stakes, that fear he loved and sought to always renew it, always increase it, always get it to a slightly higher level, for in this feeling alone he still felt something like happiness, something like an intoxication, something like an elevated form of life in the midst of his saturated, lukewarm, dull life.

The Cycle of Addiction and Spiritual Decay

The dice became the engine of a vicious cycle. After each big loss, his mind was set on new riches, pursued the trade more zealously, forced his debtors more strictly to pay, because he wanted to continue gambling, he wanted to continue squandering, continue demonstrating his disdain of wealth. Siddhartha lost his calmness when losses occurred, lost his patience when he was not payed on time, lost his kindness towards beggars, lost his disposition for giving away and loaning money to those who petitioned him. He, who gambled away tens of thousands at one roll of the dice and laughed at it, became more strict and more petty in his business, occasionally dreaming at night about money! And whenever he woke up from this ugly spell, whenever he found his face in the mirror at the bedroom's wall to have aged and become more ugly, whenever embarrassment and disgust came over him, he continued fleeing, fleeing into a new game, fleeing into a numbing of his mind brought on by sex, by wine, and from there he fled back into the urge to pile up and obtain possessions. In this pointless cycle he ran, growing tired, growing old, growing ill.

The Dice as a Symbol of the Worldly Life

The dice represent the ultimate degradation of Siddhartha's spiritual quest into a mere game. He 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. The dice were a central instrument of that stupidity and vice. They were the tool through which he became a merchant, a dice-gambler, a drinker, and a greedy person, until the priest and Samana in him was dead. The game of dice was the name of this Sansara, a game for children, a game which was perhaps enjoyable to play once, twice, ten times—but for ever and ever over again? The dice, in their repetitive, meaningless rolls, perfectly embodied the cyclical, empty nature of the worldly life Siddhartha had to exhaust before he could find a new path.

The Dice and the Final Rejection

Siddhartha's eventual departure from the city and his life of gambling is a direct rejection of everything the dice represent. The dice are left behind, along with the house, the garden, and the entire world of Kamaswami. The dice are not mentioned again in Siddhartha's life by the river; they belong to a dead past. The wound of his son's departure, which burns longingly and bitterly, is a different kind of pain, one that leads to growth rather than to a numbing cycle. The dice, as an object, are thus a concentrated symbol of the entire Sansara from which Siddhartha had to awaken, a tangible reminder of the spiritual death he had to undergo before he could hear the river's laugh and the sound of Om.