Eumenes 1, Chapter 5: Gymnosophist

We stay Boukephalia until autumn since it's almost suicide to cross the Gedrosian desert in midsummer.
“Hey, Bous. I introduce you my pretty Aira. This is Miss Airanjana, the Water Elephant. Aira, this is Mr. Boukephalas, the Ox Head Jr., he is my King's favorite horse. Be friends with each other.”
Amastri visits the King's horse barn and let her elephant Airanjana meet the King's horse Boukephalas II. King is watching it pleasantly.
“My dear sister Amastri, it's the elephant Ardhanara gave you?”
“Yes, brother. Do you want to ride my pet?”
“Isn't it hot-tempered, a violent elephant?”
“No, not at all. She is a very graceful girl.”
“Is it?”
“I specially allow you to ride her, brother. But in return, I want to ride your horse.”
“No problem. Which one?”
“Bous!”
“I knew you said so.”
“Thank you, brother.”
I am staring at them, but they don't notice my feeling, riding side by side, stepping out to the meadow. She uses whips and starts galloping in good shape. Well, I see, I would be mistaken. She may be a better rider than me.

“Airanjana is the name of a water fairy.”
“It's a nice name for an elephant.”
“Is it? It calls up storms and makes it shower. A heavenly nymph swimming in the sea of clouds. 'Aira' is water, and 'Anjana59' is the mother of Hanuman60.”
“Who is Hanuman?”
“Don't you know him brother?”
“I'm sorry but I don't. Please teach me, sister.”
“He is a divine monkey.”
“A monkey? What's that?”
“You really don't know what a monkey is? It's an animal.”
“What kind of?”
“Very similar to humans, but has longer arms, climbing trees very well. They live in the trees.”
“I've never seen such an animal, but I'm also good at climbing trees. Because I was raised in mountains.”
“Me too.”
“We share a lot of common characteristics, don't we?”
“My pleasure, brother.”
“A good tree climber will be trained to be a good soldier. Because he is sharp and speedy. An army consisting of good climbers can move quickly and simultaneously like us and can conquer the world.”
“Is it true? I hear it for the first time.”
“It's true, absolutely. If not, you have never been captured by us. You would still live in the rocky mountains of Sogdia.”
“Oh, I see. You may be right. But even though I am a good climber like a monkey, I cannot be a soldier since I am a woman.”
“Then instead you bear Hanuman. You can be a great mother.”
Amastri laughed. “I heard that Hanuman travels from end to end of the world at once riding a cloud.”
“Wow, a marvelous vehicle. I really want that cloud to conquer the world.”
“I thought you would say so. Hanuman calls clouds by whistling, turning a somersault, riding a lump of cloud, driving it freely in the sky.”
“A great guy. But who taught you such stories?”
“Kalanos.”
“Oh, that living skelton. Don't you fear him? He seems so crude for girls like you.”
“Not at all. He always keeps polite, has good manner and good humor, and tells me a lot of mysterious things.”

King got boring spending monotonous summer days, happened to hear the names of Indian saints such as Buddha or Vardhamana, as well as their disciples, and other various sages. It seems that there live as many philosophers in India as in Hellas. He hit upon an idea to invite them to his court to have a public discussion. There are many naked Brahmins living in the forest nearby.
King says, “I want to compare Hellenic and Indian thinkers. Which can argue more skillfully in debate about both political and ethical themes? Which can undermine the other's confidence? I assemble sophists from all nations, make them debate and see what would happen.”
He waited for several days, however, only one very old man applied to King's calling. King was disappointed because he looks so old and weak that he cannot bear long journey. He lives in Punjab forest, only eats wild nuts, berries and tree leaves, wears only a skirt make of tree barks. He is more than seventy years old, with completely white hair and beard.

“Welcome Saint,” King instantly tries him, “Do deities exist?”
“King,” replied the old man with his eyes keeping closed. “we are incapable of proving it. We do not have sufficient rational ability to justify either the belief that gods exist or the belief that gods do not exist.”
“Interesting. You have no answer to my question. You don't justify yourself. You deny justification. Is everything not incomprehensible?”
“No, that's not my theory. Not everything. I say, a man who does not know something shall not say 'I know it'. Everyone wants to know what he doesn't know, but he is apt to fail to prove unknown and uncertain things. Hence, he simply names it a 'god'. It's very easy to name a 'god' or 'truth' or 'ultimate goal' or something, but these are indeed meaningless. You can say something 'infinite' but you can never reach 'infinity'. We can say true or false if it is a finite and real thing. When a man found a god, he never thinks of it any further. It makes infinity finite to recognize infinity, that is, everyone only knows finite matters, which are sometimes called 'god'.”
“A reasonable answer. On more question. Whether a man has previous or next lives. The common concept of Indians: rebirth and reincarnation. Those are also imperceptible?”
“Yes.”
“Then why you avoid killing? Why you only eat forest nuts and leaves, wearing only barks? Because you think killing is evil. How do you distinguish the evil from the good?
I think whether killing is evil or not is also inconceivable if existence of gods or good-will or something is unprovable. Without gods or religions, how do you distinguish good from evil? Why you have to limit your life by rules?”
“It depends on each individual. Almost all Brahmins believe in gods, but I don't. Religions don't originate from gods, but a product of human imagination. We can't prove, even don't need the hypothesis that some divine or supernatural existence defines the truth and falsity.
I don't know, nor want to know what Brahmins believe. I know only the fact that there are so many sects they are belonging to. It proves that they believe multiple contradicting truths.
I lived too long. I should die earlier. The best way to live is to die young having guiltless soul, before acquiring discretion.
I left human society to live alone in forests. Declines of my physical strength annoy me, but what suffers me most is my mental aging. I got to hate human families, agricultures, domestic animals, and friction. My wounded soul is never cured, only soothed by lonesome tranquility in woods. The only way to bear the pain of my soul is to forget myself who had ever belonged human society, not recalling the past.
Inspecting into my own mind, I found that everything comes from my likes and dislikes. I found no universal truth in my mind, but everything depends on my natural feelings. I reach this conclusion in the forest after long meditations.
People deceive themselves. Every man has ability of cheating his own thought, disguising theories. They don't aware fake things as long as they live together. They help each other to deceive themselves. It's the falsest characteristic of humankind. That is the reason a man should live alone. That is the truth I found at last. I left human society and live alone in the forest. I eat wild nuts and leaves simply because I hate to eat meals produced by humans. I wear only barks because I hate human-tailored clothes.”
“I understand your standing point. But I don't understand why you came here. You had better remain in woods alone. You are self-satisfied and need no help. I think your words and deeds do not match. Why you visited me today? You have something to talk to me?”
“The reason is simple. I came here to have my friend.”
“Why? You hate humans but love friends? I'm a king. A social being whom you avoid. A typical man you need least. I used to order my men to kill somebody. I myself take an ax and kill animals to offer sacrifices to gods. I cut woods and make your forests into colonies. Nevertheless, you want to be my friend? For what?”
“I came here because I really need you. Brahmins, Buddhists and Jains living in India refuse to serve earthly kings. But every one of them belongs to his society. Monks gather believers and collect money to make shrines and temples. They pursue wealth and fame. They have parents, sons and daughters, homes and schools, and teachers and students. There is no difference between kings and priests. Karmic connections prevent us from Nirvana, the liberation from eternal reincarnation. That's my agony.
I suppose there have been many friends who also reached the same conclusion as I did, but we never meet because we are so separated from each other. Now, somewhere in this world, a lot of my friends have the same concept as I have, living not noticing each other. We have no society, but I want to correspond them. I want to meet my friends before I die. That might be the only desire, or regret this old man still have.
I came here today because you said you take me to my far distant friends.
I don't obey someone who happens to be my teacher. I don't make friends with someone who just live together. I don't want to stay some place just because I was born there. King, do you understand me?”
“Saint, I think you are my kindred sharing the same spirit. We can understand each other since we have the same solitary feelings.”
“Are you lonesome, too?”
“Indeed, I have many companions. But there is only one soul mate. I call it my 'Daimonion61'. Only one friend talking directly to my soul.”
“You mean it is your god living in your mind?”
“In other words, he is my 'divine guardian'. It is said that everyone has his own guardian in mind from birth, but never notice the existence, or forget it when grew up. I thought I am the only one perceiving it and hear its voice. I used to think that is the reason why I can be the king of kings. But now, hearing your opinion, I convince that some people except me also could hear the advice of daimonions. You heard the voice in the forest, didn't you?”
“I'm not sure but maybe so.”
“You and me, also Socrates and Diogenes have daimonions.”
“I just want to meet and talk with my true friends, though they live somewhere in the far distance. If you accept me as your friend, I'm willing to go together.”
“In my homeland, some acorn-eaters inhabit forests, some drunkard sleeps in a liquor barrel. Please meet them. And be one of our friends.”
“I accept your invitation, Kallaanya mitta.”
His real name is Kaccayana Belatthiputta, which nobody can remember. Instead, since every time he greets 'Kallaanya mitta', which means 'dear friend', he got used to be called simply 'Kalanos' by Hellenes.

“My brother, you want to return to Makedonia as soon as possible flying on a cloud like Hanuman?” Amastri's voice calls him back from contemplation. He looks up the sky, which is apparently connected to the Makedonian sky.
“Not so much.”
“Where you want to go, then.”
“Nowhere. I just want to call a gale to wipe trifle things off, drive the storm to awaken the peoples, and be memorized among gods.”
“Everybody imagines. Only you can realize.”
“Sure.”