The first week was the most difficult. I was begging for alms on the street when a squadron of soldiers approached me. At first I was prepared for a fight. It was commonplace among warriors to practice swordsmanship on the homeless. I’d seen it far too many times since venturing outside the palace walls. There was seldom any humanity extended to the untouchables, those poor souls that lingered the city walls. The untouchables that prepared corpses for burial and disposed of the city’s feces.

Surprisingly the soldiers showed me the utmost generosity. They showered me in their finest gifts from offerings of dank bhang to gold and silver. I knew it. A sign of favor from the cosmos. It was a sign that I was following my dharma, that I was doing the right thing that is… until King Bimbisara found me.

I was emaciated by this time. I was barely eating. My ribs jutted ever so painfully out my flesh. My lips were pink and bloody. My collarbones collapsed giving way to arms that resembled bones more than anything else. My hair had become stringy and damaged, it even began dreading at the roots. My skin was peeling off.

“He’s a rather ugly specimen isn’t he,” thought King Bimbisara. Mustering up some nerve and much do respect he asked, “Are you Siddhartha Gautama?”

“Yes,” said the poor man before him.

“What unfitting behavior for a kshatriya,” he thought. “What a cruel world that would give a fool such a high caste in this world,” but alas King Bimbisara spoke and said, “I have an offer for you." The ascetic’s head rose up. His pale blue eyes froze the king, it was like staring in the depths of Brahman itself.

“I want to offer you the throne Siddhartha. Your father is a truly great ruler and I—”

“Stop there,” said Gautama. The King’s guards looked on with virile hatred, their spears already poised to attack. Bimbisara scolded them and before he could begin speaking, Siddhartha calmly said, “Your kingdom will be the first place I return to after I reach enlightenment. Then, you will see the folly of this lavish lifestyle.”

The king only shook his head and walked away.

“My how the universe is cruel giving fools such power,” he thought walking away from Siddhartha.

I flourished under two great masters. The first was Alara Kalama. He taught me the sacred practice of yogic meditation. It came easily and he soon recognized my talent. So much so that Master Alara asked me to be his successor. I declined the offer.

There was something unsatisfying about his methods. I knew there was more to be learned. My next teacher was the legendary Uddaka Ramaputta. It was said that he learned his refined system of immaterial attainments from Vishnu himself. Uddaka Ramaputta was a wise man. He taught me that the path to enlightenment was stoic asceticism. I would deny my flesh and with it invite sickness, old age and death. This was the only way to achieve moksha. I would finally put a stop to the cycle of birth and rebirth holding me hostage for an eternity.

It’s been weeks since I ate a full meal. I survive on a single leaf a day. For variety, every once in a while I eat a single nut instead. Just enough nutrients to keep this flesh suit going but still my body is giving way. I can feel my soul becoming one with Brahman. And suddenly, a light in the far corner of my peripheral view.

It was here. I’m ready. I contemplated the beginning of the universe. I realized that I alone could end samsara. I’d found immortality in denial of the flesh. I’d found immortality in a body that will soon cease to be. To say bye to the cruel world and join the ultimate reality that is. The underlying force, the ocean which waves, the truth outside māyā. An ultimate reality devoid of the tales and forgeries committed by men and gods alike.

“I’ve failed,” I thought waking up to a mouthful of payasam. I was being fed by what appeared to be a local village girl. She was excited to see me awake. She yelled, “You passed out in the river! I had to run home and feed you something.” I later found that her name was Sunjana. She had to be about ten years old. She was a cute little girl. She said, “Spirit, I wish for a new house and a cat for my family.” I laughed at the thought in my head, was this how low I’d come?

I was being mistaken for a ghost now. But my hearty laughter was interrupted by the sudden appearance of an intense sense of guilt and remorse. Didn’t I have a child at home? How was he? How much had he suffered on my behalf? I suddenly remembered Rāhula, the boy named burden.

At that very moment it happened. My memory of Rāhula brought me back to my own childhood, and I remembered a moment of great tranquility. I was about six years old maybe. I had been watching my father plow the fields when suddenly I was overtaken by this intense euphoria and pleasure. It was born of my seclusion in a mind of directed thought and careful evaluation. After assuring Sunjana that I wasn’t a spirit, she led me to a pipal tree in the village.

For the next 49 days I sat at the foot of this tree. I attained enlightenment. I decided that I would tread the noble eightfold path alone. I decided to take the eight noble truths with me to the grave. I would die as the one and only Buddha.