As the cries of peacocks echoed through the forest, Rama, gentle and resolute, spoke, “Let us cross the swift-flowing Jahnavi, which journeys to the ocean.” Saumitri—Lakshmana, the delight of his friends—heard these words and immediately summoned Guha, the chieftain of the boatmen, and the charioteer, Sumantra, standing before his elder brother with readiness. Guha, hearing Rama’s command and accepting it with devotion, swiftly called his attendants and instructed them, “Bring a well-equipped, sturdy, and swift boat, fitted with oars and ready for crossing.” At his order, Guha’s attendants brought forth a beautiful boat, reporting its arrival to their lord. With joined palms, Guha addressed Rama, “Here is the boat, O lord; what more shall I do for you?” He continued, “This boat, O tiger among men, is equal to the chariots of the gods, and is ready to carry you across the river that flows to the ocean; ascend, O steadfast one!” Rama, radiant and mighty, replied with warmth, “My wish has been fulfilled by you; let us quickly embark.” Rama and Lakshmana, having fastened their quivers and girded on their swords, prepared themselves. With Sita by their side, they approached the banks of the sacred Ganga. Sumantra, the charioteer, came forward humbly, palms joined, and asked Rama, who knows righteousness, “What shall I do?” The son of Dasaratha, Rama, touched Sumantra with his excellent right hand and spoke gently, “Sumantra, quickly return again; be ever attentive before the king.” He added, “Turn back, for my task is done. Leaving the chariot, I will go to the great forest on foot.” Seeing himself dismissed, the sorrowful Sumantra spoke to Rama, the descendant of Ikshvaku, “No one in this world has ever done what you are doing—dwelling in the forest with your wife and brother, as if you were an ordinary man. I do not believe there is any fruit in asceticism, or in study, or even in gentleness and honesty, if you have come to such misfortune. Yet, dwelling in the forest with Vaidehi and your brother, O hero, you will attain your goal, as if conquering the three worlds. We are truly ruined, Rama, deceived by her; we shall fall under the power of the sinful Kaikeyi and share in her sorrow.” Thus lamenting, Sumantra grieved as if for himself, weeping for a long time as he watched Rama move farther away. When his tears ceased, Rama, having purified himself with water, spoke sweet words to the pure-hearted charioteer again and again: “Among the Ikshvakus, I see no friend equal to you; act so that King Dasaratha does not grieve for me. The lord of the earth, afflicted by sorrow and old age, weighed down by desire—therefore I say this to you. Whatever that great-souled king commands, for the sake of Kaikeyi’s pleasure and desire, must be done without hesitation. For this reason, kings rule their kingdoms: so that their will is not hindered in any of their undertakings. If the great king does not fall into falsehood, nor is he overcome by sorrow, then, Sumantra, act in that same way.” “Having greeted the king—aged, noble, and master of his senses—speak these words on my behalf, to him who has not known suffering: Neither do I grieve, nor does Lakshmana, nor Maithili; nor do we lament that we have left Ayodhya, or that we will dwell in the forest. When the fourteen years are completed, you will soon see Lakshmana, myself, and Sita returning again and again. Having spoken thus to the king and my mother, Sumantra, also convey my words repeatedly to the other queens, including Kaikeyi. Convey my wishes for health to Kausalya, and offer her my respectful salutations, as well as those of Sita, myself, and Lakshmana, as spoken by us.” “Also tell the great king to summon Bharata quickly; and if Bharata has already arrived, he should be established in the position favored by the king. Embrace Bharata and anoint him as heir-apparent; then the sorrow born from our distress will not overcome you. Bharata should also be told: as you conduct yourself towards the king, so should you behave towards all the mothers, without distinction. Just as you regard Kaikeyi and Sumitra equally, so too should you especially honor Queen Kausalya, who is my mother. With affection for my father and expectation of the royal succession, you are able to bring happiness to both worlds.” When Rama urged Sumantra to return, though distressed by sorrow, Sumantra listened to all these words and, out of affection, spoke to Rama, “If, out of affection and unwavering devotion, I speak without proper formality, you ought to forgive these words. How can I return to that city, deprived of you, as if it were a son overwhelmed by grief at separation from his father? When the people see my chariot without Rama, even if it still bears his name, the city itself may be torn apart at the sight of the chariot without Rama. The city will surely fall into misery upon seeing this empty chariot, with only the charioteer remaining, like an army whose heroes have been slain in battle. Though you reside far away, the people, imagining you present in their minds, will today surely become fasting, thinking of you.” Thus, with hearts heavy yet resolute, Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana prepared to cross the sacred river, while Sumantra, burdened by sorrow, was entrusted with Rama’s loving messages for all those left behind in Ayodhya.