Rama, gentle and steadfast, spoke to Lakshmana with calm assurance. “You know well, dear brother,” he said, “that I have never made any distinction among my mothers. There has never been any special preference for Kaikeyi or for her son from me. So, when she uttered those harsh words—meant to prevent my consecration and send me into exile—I see no cause for her actions other than fate itself. “How could a princess, noble and virtuous, speak like an ordinary woman and cause me such pain before her husband? But destiny, which is beyond comprehension, does not spare even living beings. Clearly, misfortune has come upon both her and me. Who, O gentle Lakshmana, can contend with fate, when only what is destined comes to pass, no matter our actions? “Even seers, renowned for fierce austerity, are driven by fate to abandon their intense vows and succumb to desire and anger. Whatever arises unexpectedly, unplanned and interrupting what has been begun—surely, that is the work of destiny. With this understanding, I restrain myself by my own mind and feel no distress, even though my consecration has been hindered. “Therefore, do not grieve. You too, following me, should quickly withdraw the preparations for the consecration. With these very jars, Lakshmana, prepared for the royal ceremony, I will perform the vow-bath of an ascetic. Or else, what need have I for this royal paraphernalia? The water I draw myself will suffice for my vow. Do not be troubled by this reversal of fortune—whether it is the kingdom or the forest, the forest life is of great merit. “Lakshmana, you are not to be suspected in this obstruction to my kingship, nor is my younger mother. Fate has intervened, and not my father in any way. Indeed, you know well how powerful destiny is.” As Rama spoke, Lakshmana, his head bowed, entered the midst, his mind seized by sorrow and anger. The best of men furrowed his brow and breathed heavily, like a great serpent enraged in its hole. His face, fierce with a frown, was as hard to look upon as an angry lion’s. He shook his clenched fist, like an elephant shaking its trunk, and, tilting his head, let his neck fall. Looking askance at his brother, he spoke: “This agitation of yours has arisen in vain. Because of concern for a fault in righteousness, and excessive regard for public opinion, how could someone like you, steadfast, speak in this way? How is it that you, a valiant Kshatriya, speak so feebly of fate, as if it were powerless and pitiable? How is it that you do not suspect wrongdoing in those two? There are indeed people who use righteousness as a pretense—O righteous one, do you not see this? “If their conduct were truly sincere and not driven by selfishness or deceit, then, Raghava, the boon would have been granted to them long ago, and it would have been a proper one. I cannot bear, O hero, the initiation of another’s consecration, begun in a way hated by the people—please forgive me for this. Even that righteousness, O wise one, which has led your mind into doubt, is hateful to me, since it causes you to be bewildered. “How can you, by your own action, obey your father’s unrighteous and blameworthy command, acting under Kaikeyi’s influence? Though this division has been caused by wickedness, you still do not recognize it; that brings me sorrow, and your attachment to righteousness is blameworthy here. This adherence to righteousness of yours is condemned by the world; how could you, even in thought, serve those two, who always act for their own gain and are enemies, though called father and mother? “Even if your resolve and their will are determined by fate, still, you ought to disregard it; yet, even that does not please me. He who is weak and lacking in valor follows fate; but heroes, who are self-respecting, do not submit to destiny. He who is able to overcome fate by human effort does not despair, even when afflicted by misfortune. “Today, people will see the power of fate and of human effort; today, the distinction between destiny and human action will become clear. Today, people will see fate overcome by my effort—those who saw your consecration for the kingdom thwarted by destiny. Like a mighty elephant gone mad, unrestrained even by the goad, I will chase down fate and turn it back with my own effort. Not even all the guardians of the worlds, nor all three worlds together, could prevent your consecration today, Rama—much less your father. “Those by whom your exile to the forest, O king, was arranged—they will themselves dwell in the forest for fourteen years. Fate’s power cannot match the strength of one intoxicated with might; my fierce effort will prevail, bringing suffering to the enemy. After a thousand years have passed and the rule of noble sons is complete, only then should you go to the forest—never now. “For, according to the custom of ancient royal sages, forest dwelling is prescribed only after entrusting the people to sons who care for them like their own children. But if, out of concern for the confusion of the kingdom with many princes, you, righteous Rama, do not wish the kingship for yourself—” Thus, the brothers’ hearts and minds wrestled with the forces of destiny and duty, each expressing his truth with deep reverence and passion, as the course of events unfolded before them.