Kausalya sat in sorrow, her heart weighed down by longing and grief. She yearned for the day when her suffering might end, when she could once again behold Raghava—her beloved son Rama—standing before her, accompanied by his devoted wife Sita and his loyal brother Lakshmana. In her mind’s eye, she envisioned the city of Ayodhya transformed by their return, its splendor restored, its people rejoicing, and banners fluttering high in celebration. She wondered aloud, “When will those two heroic sons of mine return from the forest, filling the city with joy as the full moon swells the ocean? When will my mighty-armed son, radiant and strong, enter Ayodhya with Sita before him in the chariot, like a proud bull leading his heifers? When will the people throng the royal road, showering parched grain upon my sons—the subduers of enemies—as they make their triumphant entry?” Her imagination lingered on the sight of Rama and Lakshmana, adorned with splendid earrings, swords uplifted, striding into Ayodhya like twin-peaked mountains. She pictured the joyous maidens, their hair crowned with flowers, and the twice-born bearing fruits, circling the city and performing auspicious rites to welcome them. She longed for the return of her righteous son, mature in wisdom and age, shining like a rain cloud and bringing delight as a good season brings relief to the world. Yet, her grief overwhelmed her. “Without doubt,” she lamented, “in times past, some miserly woman must have caused mothers’ breasts to be cut off when they wished to feed their children. For now, I am like a loving cow deprived of her calf by a lion—helpless, rendered so by Kaikeyi, O tiger among men. How can I, who have but one son endowed with all virtues and learned in every scripture, endure life without my child? I find no strength left in my life, for I do not see my beloved son nor the mighty Lakshmana. Today, a terrible fire of grief for my son consumes me, as the radiant sun scorches the earth in the heat of summer.” At that moment, as Kausalya poured out her sorrow, the noble Sumitra, steadfast in righteousness, spoke to her with gentle wisdom. “O noble lady,” she said, “your son is adorned with every virtue and stands foremost among men. What purpose does this lamentation serve? Why these pitiful tears? Rama, mighty as he is, has renounced the kingdom, performing a noble deed for his great-souled father who is true to his word. “Rama, established in righteousness and supreme among men, walks the path of virtue—the path that brings reward beyond this life. He is never to be grieved for. Lakshmana, ever sinless, conducts himself with the highest virtue and compassion for all beings. Such a great soul will surely attain success. Even Sita, though accustomed to comfort, follows your righteous son, willingly embracing the hardships of forest life. “Your son upholds the banner of fame in the world, devoted to righteousness and truth. Why should he not attain the highest glory? Indeed, recognizing Rama’s purity and greatness, even the sun’s rays should not scorch his body. Always, the gentle, pleasant wind from the forests will serve Raghava, moderate in heat and cold. At night, the cool and soothing moon will embrace sinless Rama like a father, dispelling the heat as he rests. “Remember, it was to Rama that the mighty Brahma granted divine weapons, after he had seen the lord of the Danavas, son of Timidhvaja, slain in battle. That hero, tiger among men, relying on his own strength, will dwell in the forest without fear, just as he would in his own house. Enemies who come within the range of his arrows meet their destruction—how then can the earth not remain under his rule? “With his fortune, valor, and noble nature, once his exile ends, Rama will swiftly regain his kingdom. As the sun is to the sun, fire to fire, and lord to lord, so is he supreme in splendor, glory, and forbearance. He is the foremost among gods and beings—what faults could there be in him, whether in the forest or in the city? “Rama, the best of men, together with the earth, with Sita, and with prosperity, will soon be anointed with these three. When he departed, the people of Ayodhya, struck by grief, shed tears of sorrow. But what could be unattainable for him, the unconquered hero clad in bark and grass, as fortune follows Sita who accompanies him? What could be unattainable for him whose foremost skill is with the bow, who bears arrows and sword, and for whom Lakshmana goes ahead? “You will see him again, returned from the forest, O lady. Abandon grief and delusion—I speak the truth to you. O blameless one, you will again see your son, bowing at your feet with his head, like the risen moon. Seeing him re-enter, anointed and resplendent, you will quickly shed tears of joy. Let there be no sorrow or pain, for nothing inauspicious is seen for Rama. Soon you will see your son with Sita and Lakshmana. “O sinless one, you must comfort all these people. Why do you now harbor this distress in your heart? You are not worthy of sorrow, O lady, whose son is Raghava, for there is no one greater than Rama, steadfast in the righteous path.” Thus, Sumitra consoled Kausalya, her words gentle and wise, seeking to soothe the mother’s heart with hope and assurance rooted in Rama’s own virtue and destiny.