I.
"One day you will be blessed with a dream that will set your life on the right path," said the manu and seemed to find satisfaction in concentrating on his shoes again.
These - visibly worn down and aged by the harsh strains of who knows how long - were well able to describe the old man's travels. They did not seem to be uncomfortable, for the manu played with his toes under the bony, fragile leather. I smiled. As a teenager I owned a pair of shoes that were anathema to my mother. But I loved my old slippers - probably for that very reason. In general, I noticed that I was well acquainted with this strange stranger - from my earliest childhood on, it was always those old, white-haired men I thought were enlightened.
He seemed to suspect what was hiding behind my forehead and so he folded his own. "Foolish are you', he rebuked me, for this strange stranger obviously lacked any drive for real scolding. Remarkably, there was also only a hint of slight regret about my incorrigibly lamentable existence in his manner; a circumstance that gave me tender hope. Although I had repeatedly resolved to avoid it, I now concentrated on the manu, waiting and waiting.
"You have not yet gone far, man, but your path follows the true, gifted one," he lifted again and for a moment it seemed to me as if he had found pleasure in teaching, or at least was warming up. But I probably just imagined something like that again, just as it suits my way of life.
"Your path, brahbata, is like a snake devoured" - so he began to tell the story of the answer...
II.
When I remember the encounters with my manu, I always think of his shoes.
These shoes, in their rakishness, their greasy shine, with their worn heels and the holes in the usual overlegged places, make such a pathetic impression that they are already a venerable and charming sight. And yet they appear with defiant resistance. It is astonishing that I notice such things, since I generally have little knowledge of anything worth knowing about shoes.
When my manu seeks contact with me, he prefers an inconspicuous figure. This is also astonishing, as I seem to recognise certain vain features in him. So it would be easy for him to gain the necessary respect from me by means of a spiritual appearance, for example. He only keeps his distance from such things out of sheer comfort, because the change of sphere always tires him out. I am sure that it is only out of pure laziness that he keeps an ordinary shape and thus gives it preference over satisfying his vain needs over me.
The old man makes a thoughtful impression today.
Seen in the light he always makes a thoughtful impression, as he seems to enjoy this role. "I ask, with all due respect", he begins to complicate matters, "whether you consider yourself an enlightened person?" Touche. That's what you get for letting your mind wander. Now it's a matter of choosing your words wisely. I sense that the cunning dog is up to something again. "I believe I can claim", I start hesitantly thinking, "that I can make a silhouette of the world". Well. I admit, an awkward phrase. "On what, Brahbata, do you base this knowledge?" the manu rejoiced. There it is. He wants to trap me again. I don't know. I must be losing my mind..
"I have read some things of value and can put things into context," I replied cautiously - not without surprising myself with this presence of mind. If only I wasn't prepari
ng my own goal.
"On the path to wisdom, then, huh?" sneered the codger. "But you still have to have a little patience if you want to reach the spheres I mean. The way leads over a pure heart and over a clear head. This essence of rare earths wants to be well prepared. You, my friend, judge on the basis of a world view you have created yourself. So you are the centre of the world? Is the world the center of heaven? Great is he who goes his own way, even if it leads astray? No, Brahbata, your heart is pure but your head is confused. Your faith and trust make you strong, but your eyes look only in one direction. Open your mind, let light enter the darkness."
Why does he always have to talk so swollen? I did not understand him exactly, but I think that he probably did not expect my answer. The best thing will be that I confuse him further, then he thinks and that always takes a long time. "All this is known to me", I agreed with the manu. "But you must bear in mind that I have created this world view as the sum of my experiences and the rest of my mind and that I carry within me the intention and conviction to further perfect it. My view of the world is bundled as the sum total of my knowledge and is subject to daily change as its components change in their composition and weighting. Do you condemn my search? You do not speak of it, but you give me, full of hidden mockery, to understand that I am made of clay. So what is your purpose," I quickly asked a counter-question in a triumphantly resigned tone, in order to reassemble myself for the time being.
Incomprehensibly, the manu smiled amused!
"Brave man! Truly, you seem to want to make an effort. Your cleverness is remarkable and you seem to be willing to search and one day you may even want to see. However, consider your path well and ask yourself where it leads to. Walking alone leads to a destination, but the path must also be chosen with care. You walk your route, well done, but your route is on a map that others have drawn. You are shy, human, to go through life without a map and discover it."
What I can't stand about the manu at all is that he says everything so complicated. At every opportunity he feasts his eyes on my face, when I can once again listen to his wisdom. Did I mention that he's probably vain? I'd like to twist his nose.
Or just stick out my tongue. Not because I didn't understand him, but just to see what he'd do then. "If you are in possession of all these truths, why do you not share them with me?" I exclaimed defiantly. The old man should make something of it first.
The manu now shook his head in obvious amusement.
"Your energetic rushing forward is an expression of your enthusiasm and impatience," he winked at me. "But you must learn before you can recognize.
The path to truth is divided; you must be able to see the junctions and then take them. This alone is for you to decide and choosing the right path is not easy.
Some of them are winding and entangled, others seem to promise a quick answer. Some paths lead to a gate and only he who has found the key within himself can open it. Another path seems dark and confusing, so that you are afraid of it, and yet it can be the true one. But most of the ways', said my manu, 'you do not know and you do not perceive them. Oh, no, it is not as you think, it is not the ways that elude you, it is you alone who treads on the spot. But which is the way that leads to truth?
If you enjoy the flowers in the fields, stop and enjoy their graceful splendour. Do you feel like asking about the meaning of the flowers? Well then, let them enchant you, but do not forget to be thankful that they reveal themselves to you, unfold all their glory and stretch their delicate flower dreams into the sky. Take all this as a gift, understand it before you ask questions about the truth.
Beware, brahbata," he woven his net around me, "to ask for the truth. But plan your way and divide the route into stages and these again and again. Rest and consider. ...but wander where it pleases you."
"I may want to wander," I said, "but philosophy alone will not get me anywhere. Surely you are right, my manu, but isn't there a useful answer?" He's obviously confused.
III.
One must be careful with a confused world teacher.
If my manu is otherwise rather sublime and thoughtful in his dealings with me, he tends, once captivated by himself, to go from the hundredth to the thousandth. I must constantly point out to him my comparatively worldly concern, otherwise he will get lost in the transcendental fields of metaphysics and other speculative sciences. Even though he must constantly emphasize his election, much of what he says makes sense to me, which is not surprising, since they are usually old hats anyway. Apparently he had interpreted my provocatively used question as a displeasure, because otherwise his critically exploratory look could not be explained.
"I suspect you're not ready to go," the manu tore me from my thoughts. "You resemble a bright child, but you can still only crawl, drink only your usual potion and eat only your usual food. And now you demand of me, of all people, a useful answer. Take your time and open your mind to the spirit, then you can reach the world. In time you will get your useful knowledge', smiled the manu now encouragingly to me, 'desire it, man, like a treasure and long for it. You will wisely recognize the helpful ones on the way to the answer and the less helpful ones the same way. But once you have tracked down the true trail, follow it further.
In his dignity he seems so convinced of himself that I could scream out loud. But since he has to spend a large part of his concentration on looking dignified, I might be able to lure him out of his reserve after all. "You will not let me snack on the tree of knowledge", I crowed, "but you will reproach me for just this, my lack, in the
next breath! A masterpiece. At the right moment, I almost missed the irritated 
sparkle in the eyes of the manu - as I was enraptured by the powerful linguistic expression and the simplicity of my words. He had not reckoned with that. Now I have him in my grasp and he will probably have to become clearer. After all, gambling debts are debts of honour, and what applies to gambling certainly also applies to knowledge. First make your mouth water and then pull back - think of it!
Once again the manu shook his head, smiling. "I have just meant that you have to practice patience. The seed must first germinate before you can start harvesting. You and I, Brahbata, have time, much time. Set out in search of the answer, but begin your search where it will bring you benefit. The manu now approached me so far that I felt his breath on my chest. His gaze seemed to want to pierce me urgently as he continued to speak admonishingly: "Yes, we have all the time in the world. But make good use of your time, do not waste it. But what you waste it with and what you use it with, you must and will find out. This is all I have to tell you. Begin to find your way and then follow it', the manu dominated me and was probably only too aware of his slightly theatrical effect on me. Nevertheless, he kept on talking. "From time to time I will be your companion, will share my food with you and break my bread with you. The key to the gate of your world lies buried deep within you, find it and use it when the time is right.
With these words, the manu deflagrated in a pink cloud ready for the stage, only to finally demand the respect I had long missed. I don't know how he did it, but he must have prepared some kind of para-suggestive-hypnotic Leipzig all sorts of things in my skull. Magicians and other jugglers have always been a mystery to me.
"Dust to dust," I whispered after him. At least it was dark, otherwise the manu lacked the most minimal spiritualistic requirements. Not even laser flashes or spherical sounds could be heard.
I was impressed.
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