Rama, steadfast and noble, addressed his brother Lakshmana with gentle firmness. “O hero,” he said, “one who abides in righteousness must never disregard the pledges made to a father, mother, or a Brahmin. Having already been urged by Kaikeyi through my father’s word, I cannot transgress his command again. Therefore, abandon this resolve of yours, grounded in the duty of warriors. Take refuge in righteousness, not harshness—let your mind follow mine.” Having spoken affectionately to Lakshmana, Rama, the elder brother, with joined palms and a bowed head, turned to his mother Kausalya. “O Lady,” he implored, “grant me your permission as I depart for the forest. You are bound to me by my very life—please perform the auspicious rites for my journey. When I have fulfilled my vow, I shall return from the forest to the city, just as King Yayati returned to heaven after his exile. Bear your grief in your heart, Mother; do not sorrow. I shall return, having fulfilled my father’s command. It is the eternal law that you, I, Vaidehi, Lakshmana, and Sumitra must all abide by our father’s word. Gather the necessary provisions and restrain your sorrow. Since my mind is set on dwelling in the forest, let it be so, in righteousness.” Hearing these unwavering and righteous words, the queen, as if returning from the brink of death, looked at Rama and spoke again. “Just as your father is to you, so am I—your teacher, by duty and affection. My son, I do not permit you to leave me, so deeply afflicted am I. What is life to me without you? What is the world, or even the nectar of immortality, compared to a moment in your presence? That alone is dearer to me than all the world of the living.” Rama, hearing his mother’s pitiful lament, was overcome with even greater grief, like a mighty elephant driven into darkness by torches. He saw his mother, nearly senseless, and Sumitra’s son, Lakshmana, tormented by pain. Steadfast in righteousness, Rama spoke words appropriate to the moment. “Lakshmana, I know well your devotion and valor. But since my intention is not being considered, do not, along with my mother, distress me with such deep sorrow. In this world, righteousness, wealth, and desire all arise from the fruits of righteousness. All who live are obedient, just as a wife and her sons are dear and devoted. One should pursue that path in which all are united, from which righteousness arises. One who seeks only gain becomes hated, and self-indulgence is not commendable. Who, acting with cruelty, would fail to carry out the task assigned by a teacher, king, father, or elder, whether out of anger, joy, or desire, after considering what is right?” He continued, “I am not able to fulfill my father’s promise completely as it should be, for he is our teacher by command, the husband of the queen, and the path of righteousness. While the king of righteousness still lives and follows his path, how could the queen accompany me, like a woman bereft of her husband? Do not be angry with me, O queen, as I go to the forest. Offer us your blessings, so that when my time is complete, I may return, just as Yayati returned by truth. I do not seek great fame for the sake of the kingdom. In this brief span of life, O queen, I choose the lesser earth, but not unrighteously.” Having thus sought to console his mother, Rama, the bull among men, eager to depart for Dandaka, earnestly instructed his younger brother and, in his heart, circumambulated his mother. Then, Rama approached Lakshmana, his dear friend and brother, who was deeply distressed and burning with indignation, his eyes blazing with anger like a furious lord of elephants. Rama, composed and resolute, spoke to Lakshmana with calm restraint. Suppressing his own anger and sorrow, relying on fortitude, he cast aside humiliation and embraced supreme joy. “Whatever has been prepared for my consecration,” he said, “let all that be quickly withdrawn. Carry out the task without delay. O Saumitri, the effort made for my consecration should now be directed toward its cancellation. Let us act so that our mother, whose mind is troubled on account of my consecration, may not remain anxious. I cannot endure, even for a moment, this pain of suspicion arising in her mind, O Saumitri. I do not recall ever, knowingly or unknowingly, doing anything slight or displeasing to my mothers or father. My father, who is truthful and steadfast in his vows, should be fearless, concerned only for the consequences in the next world. If this act is not carried out, even for her, my mind would be troubled that truth is not upheld, and her anguish would afflict me. Therefore, Lakshmana, withdraw the arrangements for the consecration. I wish to go to the forest from here, right away.” He continued, “Today, with my departure into exile, the king’s wife will have accomplished her purpose; then let them consecrate her son Bharata, free from anxiety. When I have gone to the forest, wearing bark garments and matted hair, Kaikeyi will find peace of mind. The decision that has brought this about, and the mind so resolved, I ought not to disturb. I will depart into exile without delay. O gentle one, it is fate alone that must be seen in my banishment and in the reversal of the kingdom that had already been bestowed. How could Kaikeyi’s resolve have arisen to harm me, unless this intention of hers had been ordained by fate?” Thus, Rama, unwavering in righteousness and composed in spirit, prepared to fulfill his father’s command, accepting the path of exile as ordained by destiny.