Lakshmana spoke with firm resolve to Rama, saying, “I will not go to another forest, nor to Ayodhya, O Raghava; I will remain in this forest for fourteen years.” He pressed further, “If you do not go to Ayodhya without me, O king, you must return by this path. If I am alive at that time, I will return again to my father’s city. I will practice austerity—what will you do with me?” With affection, Lakshmana blessed Rama, “Go, gentle one, may your path be auspicious and free from obstacles; I shall see you again, returned with your wife, O lotus-eyed one.” He continued, “The kingdom of Ayodhya, inherited from fathers and grandfathers, is ruled by the king; both Shatrughna and Bharata remain ready to carry out your command. But I am opposed to you, especially during your stay in the forest; day and night, O scorcher of foes, I am constantly so. I am unable to perform the task; go, gentle one, as you wish.” Thus speaking, Raghu’s descendant addressed Saumitri. Lakshmana recalled, “How did you leave Ayodhya earlier together with me? I will dwell in the forest, O Rama, for nine years and five more. But I will not live anywhere, even in heaven, separated from you; whatever fate is yours, O tiger among men, that shall be mine as well. Grant me your favor; lead me also, O descendant of Raghu. Now, halfway along the path, how will you remain, O destroyer of enemies?” Lakshmana then declared to Rama, “I will not go to the forest again.” Recognizing Lakshmana’s determination, Rama spoke, “Do not follow me, Saumitri; I will go to the forest alone. My second companion is Sita.” Thus Rama spoke, and Lakshmana replied. Accepting Rama’s words, Lakshmana rose. The two brothers, destroyers of foes, reached the boundary of the sacred region, the mountain of propriety. There, Rama bowed with eightfold prostration, saluting the three-eyed Lord, the fragrance-less, the god of gods, Pinākin. Standing with joined palms, his body thrilled, Rama devoutly praised Shankara, beloved of Parvati. Attaining a sattvic state, with passion and darkness dispelled, Rama understood the Lord, cause of the worlds, chief of the gods. Rama spoke: “He who is the maker of this entire world, of all that moves and does not move, who again gives pleasure and pain to what is made, who is the cause of dissolution at the end of time—unto that Shankara, giver of refuge, I seek refuge. He who, once, bore upon his head the pure, beautiful, restless waters of the Ganga, falling from the sky, turbulent with great waves, as if a garland of swaying flowers—unto that Shankara, giver of refuge, I seek refuge. He whose lotus feet held steady the summit of Mount Kailasa, shaken by the ten-headed one, resembling the peak of Kailasa—unto that Shankara, giver of refuge, I seek refuge. He who, repeatedly, in battle, defeated the sons of Danu, the hosts of Vidyādharas and serpents with all their boons, and united the great sages, eaters of fruits and roots—unto that Shankara, giver of refuge, I seek refuge. He who, at Daksha’s sacrifice, destroyed the eyes of Bhaga and Pūṣan, and cast down their rows of teeth, who paralyzed Indra’s thunderbolt-wielding hand—unto that Shankara, giver of refuge, I seek refuge. He whom even those with sinful acts and minds attached to sense objects, though not endowed with knowledge, lineage, or virtues, when they seek him, become enjoyers of happiness—unto that Shankara, giver of refuge, I seek refuge. He whose birth was unexcelled, whose brilliance equaled countless suns, who struck terror into the foremost of gods and demons, who forcefully drank the blazing Kālakūṭa poison—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. The blessed Maheśa, who has often granted boons to Brahmā, Indra, Rudra, the Maruts, and even to Six-faced Kārttikeya, who rescued Nandi from the jaws of death—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. He who was worshipped with intense austerity in the groves of Himavat by Dhūmavrata, whose mind reached where others could not, who revealed the Sanjīvanī secret to the great-souled Bhṛgu—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. He who is worshipped by hosts of attendants at Dakṣa’s sacrifice, with faces like elephants, monkeys, and cats, by the leaders of the Gaṇas, by the spirits, and by the guardians of the worlds—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. He who, shining white as the conch, moon, and jasmine, mounts the mighty bull, accompanied by the daughters of the mountain king, who moves through the sky adorned with storm clouds—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. He who protected the peaceful sage, devoted to restraint and discipline, when he was being dragged by fierce, terrible men, because the sage bowed in devotion and praised him—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. He who, with his left hand and the nail of his lotus-finger, forcefully cut off the fifth head of Brahmā, which shone like a young lotus, in the presence of the gods—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. He at whose feet, when bowed to with devotion and praised with pure words by one whose mind is tireless, the radiant sun dispels darkness with his own rays—unto that Śaṅkara, the bestower of refuge, I seek refuge. Those foolish men who do not recognize you as the supreme teacher of the gods, the lord of all that moves and does not move in this world, later experience suffering due to their impure hearts, bound by pride and the influence of false doctrines.” As Rama praised him thus, the trident-bearing, bull-bannered Lord spoke joyfully, addressing Rāghava with a pleased heart. Rudra said, “Rāma, I am pleased with you; may good befall you. You are born in a pure lineage. You, too, are worthy of the world’s worship, a god assuming human form. Because you are their protector, the gods will enjoy happiness for many ages; they will be served for a long time, after fourteen years have passed. Those people on earth who see you when you return to Ayodhyā will enjoy happiness here and will dwell in heaven eternally. After accomplishing the great task of the gods, you will return again to your city.” Rāghava, having bowed to the god, quickly departed. He reached the river on Indra’s path and, binding up his matted hair, Rama said to Lakṣmaṇa, “Give me my bow.” Hearing Rama’s words, Lakṣmaṇa turned to Sītā and asked, “Why, O lady, has Rāma abandoned me without any reason? I do not know what offense I have committed that the great-armed Rāma, in anger, has abandoned me. Surely, I will give up my life. I have no purpose in living; shame on me, a disgrace to my lineage, by whom the noble one’s anger has been aroused through some evil deed.