Lakṣmaṇa, his eyes flashing sideways at his brother Rāma, spoke with intensity, “This great agitation of yours has arisen for nothing. Why, Rāma, are you so troubled? Out of concern for some imagined fault in righteousness, and excessive regard for public opinion, how could you—so steadfast and unshaken—speak like this? You are a valiant Kṣatriya; why do you speak of fate as if you are helpless and pitiable before it? How is it that you do not suspect any wrongdoing in those two—your father and Kaikeyī? Do you not see that some people use righteousness as a mere pretense, O righteous one? If their intentions were truly sincere, not driven by selfishness or deceit, then, Rāghava, the boon would have been granted long ago, and it would have been a just and proper one. O hero, I cannot bear to see 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 clouds your judgment. How can you, by your own action, obey your father’s unrighteous and blameworthy command, acting under Kaikeyī’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 misplaced here. This adherence to righteousness of yours is condemned by the world; how could you, even in thought, serve those two who, though called father and mother, act only for their own gain and have become your enemies? Even if your resolve and their will are determined by fate, still, you ought to disregard it; yet, even that does not please me. The weak and those lacking valor follow 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 true power of fate and human effort; today, the distinction between destiny and human action will become clear. Today, those who saw your consecration for the kingdom thwarted by destiny will witness fate overcome by my effort. Like a mighty elephant gone mad, unrestrained even by the goad, I will pursue fate and turn it back with my own power. Not even all the guardians of the worlds, nor all three worlds together, could prevent your consecration today, Rāma—much less your father. Those who arranged your exile to the forest, O king, 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 the 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 that might arise among many princes, you, righteous Rāma, do not wish the kingship for yourself, I vow to you, hero, that I will not seek the world of heroes; I will protect your kingdom as the shore protects the ocean. Perform your consecration with auspicious rites and remain engaged there; I alone will forcibly restrain the fire of the other kings. These two arms of mine are not for ornament, nor is the bow for decoration; my headband is not for adornment, nor are my arrows for mere display. All these—arms, bow, headband, and arrows—are for crushing the enemy; nor do I desire anything excessive from one considered my foe. With a sword of sharp edge, shining like lightning, I do not consider any enemy, even one armed with the thunderbolt, my equal. Crushed by the blows of my sword, the earth will be covered with the heads, arms, hands, and thighs of elephants, horses, charioteers, and warriors, making it impassable. Struck by the edge of my sword, my enemies will fall blazing to the ground like thunderclouds with lightning. With my fingers protected by leather guards and my bow and arrows in hand, how could any man consider himself a man while I stand among men? With my arrows, I will strike down many who are united in purpose, and even if alone, I will lay low multitudes, targeting the vital points of men, horses, and elephants. Today, the power of my weapons will truly be displayed; I will render the king powerless and establish your authority, lord. Today is the time for sandalwood paste, for the removal of armlets, for the relinquishing of riches, and for the protection of friends. These two arms of mine are indeed fit, O Rāma, for performing deeds—especially for repelling those who obstruct your consecration. Tell me, who today shall be struck down by me—who, though not your friend, boasts of life, fame, and loyal followers—so that this earth may come under your sway? Command me as you wish, for I am your servant.” Wiping away his tears and repeatedly consoling Lakṣmaṇa, the great enhancer of the Raghava line, Rāma spoke gently, “Hear me, gentle one, I am resolved to follow my father’s command; this, indeed, is the righteous path.” Now, listen to the next chapter in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. Seeing Rāma determined to obey his father’s command, Kausalyā, her voice choked with tears, spoke these righteous words: “He who has never known suffering, who is devoted to righteousness and speaks kindly to all beings—how will my son, born of Daśaratha, live by gleaning? He whose servants and attendants eat well-cooked food—how will this Rāma now eat roots and fruits in the forest?