When Viśvāmitra asked about the origin of the mighty bow, King Janaka respectfully replied, “Great sage, let me tell you why this bow is here. Long ago, Devarata, the renowned eldest son of Nimi and king of our line, received this sacred bow as a trust. In ancient times, during the destruction of Daksha’s sacrifice, the mighty Lord Shiva, in his wrath, strung this very bow. Furious with the gods for not granting him his share of offerings, he declared, ‘Because you gods have denied me my portion, I will destroy your precious and divine limbs with this bow!’ The gods, terrified and distressed, sought to appease the Lord of the gods. Eventually, Bhava—Shiva—was pleased with their prayers. In his satisfaction, he gifted them this radiant bow, a jewel among weapons, belonging to the great-souled Lord of the gods. It was then entrusted to our ancestor, the illustrious king. Later, as I was ploughing the fields, a wondrous event occurred: from the furrow of the earth arose a maiden. Clearing the soil, I found her—she who became famed as Sita. She was not born from a mother’s womb, but from the earth itself, and she grew as my own daughter. Because she was born of no womb, I resolved that only the most worthy—one who could demonstrate supreme prowess—would win her hand. Rulers from all quarters, kings and princes, came to Mithila, each desiring to wed my daughter Sita. But I declared, ‘I shall give my daughter only to one who proves his strength.’ Eager to display their might, the assembled kings requested to see the bow of Shiva. The bow was brought forth for those who wished to be tested. Yet, none could even lift it, let alone string it. Seeing their strength fail, the kings were turned away. Angered and humiliated, they doubted their own power and, in their rage, besieged Mithila. For a full year, they afflicted my city, but their resources dwindled away. Distressed by these events, I performed austerities and propitiated the hosts of gods. Pleased with my devotion, the gods granted me a mighty army of four divisions. Thus, the defeated kings, their strength spent, were routed and fled in all directions. Those powerless kings, together with their ministers—evildoers all—could not so much as touch the bow. This, O sage, is that supremely radiant weapon. Now, steadfast sage, I shall show this bow to Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. Should Rāma succeed in stringing it, I will gladly give my daughter Sita, born of no womb, to the son of Daśaratha.” At this, the next sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa begins. The great sage Viśvāmitra, hearing Janaka’s words, said, “O king, bring forth the bow and show it to Rāma.” Janaka then instructed his ministers, “Bring the divine bow, adorned with fragrant garlands.” The ministers, obeying the king, entered the city and emerged carrying the great bow. So heavy was it that five hundred strong men strained together to move the eight-wheeled chest in which it was kept. Bringing the iron-bound chest before the assembly, the ministers addressed King Janaka: “O king, here is the excellent bow, honored by all kings. Behold it, O lord of Mithilā.” Janaka, with joined palms, turned to Viśvāmitra and to Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, saying, “O Brāhmaṇa, this bow has been revered by the Janaka lineage and by many mighty kings, none of whom could string it. Not even the hosts of gods, nor asuras, nor rākṣasas, nor the foremost among gandharvas, yakṣas, kinnaras, or nāgas could string, bend, or even lift this bow. What chance, then, is there for men? Yet, here it is, O sage; let it be shown to these two princes.” Viśvāmitra said to Rāma, “My child, behold the bow.” At the sage’s command, Rāma approached, opened the chest, and gazed upon the divine weapon. He spoke, “This excellent bow I will touch with my hand. I shall strive to lift and string it as well.” The king replied, “So be it,” and Viśvāmitra also gave his blessing. Effortlessly, Rāma took hold of the bow in the center, as all watched in amazement. Before thousands of onlookers, Rāma—the joy of the Raghu dynasty—strung the bow with the ease of a child handling water. Then, drawing it fully, Rāma, the illustrious and famed prince, broke the bow in the middle. A thunderous sound erupted, like the crash of a thousand storms. The earth itself trembled violently, as though a mountain were splitting apart. Stunned by the great noise, all the people fell to the ground—save for the great sage Viśvāmitra, King Janaka, and the two sons of Raghu, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa.