Lakshmana, deeply troubled by Rama’s calm acceptance of exile, could not contain his anguish and spoke with fervor. “How is it, Rama, that you, steadfast upholder of righteousness and so mindful of public opinion, speak in this way? You, a valiant Kshatriya, now speak of fate as if it were some powerless, pitiable thing—how can this be? Why do you not suspect any wrongdoing in those two—your father and Kaikeyi? There are indeed people who use righteousness as a pretense. Can you not see this, righteous one? If their intentions were truly sincere and not driven by selfishness or deceit, then the boon would have been granted long ago, and it would have been a proper one. O Raghava, I cannot bear to see another’s consecration begun in a way despised by the people. Forgive me, but this pains me deeply. Even that righteousness, which now clouds your mind and causes you to waver, is hateful to me, for it brings you confusion. How can you, by your own will, obey your father’s unrighteous and blameworthy command, acting under Kaikeyi’s influence? Though this division comes from wickedness, you do not see it, and that brings me sorrow. Your attachment to righteousness, in this case, is misplaced. The world itself condemns this adherence to righteousness of yours. How could you, even in thought, serve those two—your father and Kaikeyi—who act only for their own gain and are, in truth, your enemies, though called father and mother? Even if your resolve and their will are shaped by fate, you ought to disregard it, yet even such disregard would not please me. It is the weak and those lacking valor who submit to fate; heroes, who are self-respecting, do not bow to destiny. One who can 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 action will be revealed. Those who saw your consecration thwarted by destiny will now see fate overcome by my effort. Like a mighty elephant gone mad, unrestrained even by the goad, I will chase down fate and turn it back with my own strength. Not all the guardians of the worlds, nor the three worlds together, could prevent your consecration today, Rama—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 is nothing compared to one intoxicated with might; my fierce effort will prevail, bringing suffering to the enemy. Only after a thousand years have passed, and the rule of the noble sons is complete, should you go to the forest—not now. According to the ancient custom of royal sages, forest dwelling is prescribed only after entrusting the people to sons who care for them as their own children. But if, out of concern for confusion in the kingdom with many princes, you do not wish the kingship for yourself, O righteous Rama, then 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. Let the consecration be performed with auspicious rites, and you be engaged there; I alone will forcibly restrain the fire of the other kings. These two arms 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; I desire nothing excessive from one considered my foe. With my sword, shining like a flash of lightning, I do not consider any enemy, even one armed with the thunderbolt, as my equal. Crushed by the blows of my sword, the earth will be covered with the heads, arms, and limbs of elephants, horses, charioteers, and warriors, making it impassable. My enemies, struck by the edge of my sword, will fall blazing to the ground like thunderclouds with lightning. With my fingers protected by leather guards and my bow and arrows in hand, who could consider himself a man while I stand among men? With my arrows, I will strike down many 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 be shown; I will render the king powerless and establish your authority, my 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 Rama, for great 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 followers—so that this earth may come under your sway? Command me as you wish, for I am your servant.” Moved by Lakshmana’s anguish, Rama gently wiped away his tears and consoled him again and again. The enhancer of the Raghava line spoke with resolve, “Hear me, gentle one—I am determined 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 Rama unwavering in his resolve to obey his father, Kausalya, 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 Dasaratha, live by gleaning in the forest? He whose servants and attendants eat well-cooked food—how will this Rama now eat only roots and fruits in the wilderness? Who could believe this upon hearing it, and who would not be afraid—that the virtuous and beloved son of the king, a descendant of Kakutstha, is being exiled?