Ilvala, a cunning asura, would disguise himself as a Brahmin and, with cruel intent, invite true Brahmins to a funeral feast. Deceitfully, he would perform the funeral rites for his brother, Vātāpi, transforming him into the form of a ram. Following the prescribed rituals of a śrāddha, he would serve the ram as food to the unsuspecting Brahmins. Once the meal was over, Ilvala would call out loudly, “Vātāpi, come out!” At this summons, Vātāpi, still in the form of a ram, would tear himself out from within the Brahmins’ bodies, bleating as he did so, killing them in a gruesome manner. In this way, Ilvala and Vātāpi destroyed thousands of Brahmins, using their shape-shifting powers and insatiable hunger for flesh. This terrible cycle continued until the gods, deeply troubled, sought help from the great sage Agastya. At their request, Agastya attended the funeral feast, calmly partook of the meal, and consumed Vātāpi, the asura, in his entirety. After the meal, Ilvala, as was his custom, offered water for rinsing the hands and called out, “Vātāpi, come out!” But this time, Agastya, wise and radiant, smiled gently and addressed Ilvala, saying, “How can your rakshasa brother, who has been digested by me and has gone to the abode of Yama, come out?” Realizing his brother was truly dead, Ilvala was seized with fury and attacked the sage. Yet, Agastya, whose brilliance was like blazing fire, reduced Ilvala to ashes with a mere glance. This very place, adorned with a serene lake and lush forest, became the hermitage of the brothers. It stands as a testament to Agastya’s compassion, for here he accomplished this difficult and noble deed to protect the Brahmins. As this tale was recounted, the sun set and evening twilight descended upon Rāma and Saumitri (Lakṣmaṇa). After performing their evening worship together, they entered the hermitage and respectfully greeted the sage. Welcomed with warmth, Rāma spent the night there, partaking of roots and fruits. When dawn arrived and the sun rose, Rāma took leave of Agastya’s brother, saying, “I bow to you, venerable one. I have spent the night comfortably. I take my leave now, for I go to see your elder brother, my teacher.” Receiving permission, Rāma, the delight of the Raghu lineage, set out along the indicated path, observing the beauty of the forest as he went. He saw wild rice, jackfruit, śāla trees, vañjulā, tinisha, ciribilva, madhūka, bilva, and tinduka trees. The forest abounded with hundreds of trees adorned with blossoming creepers, their tips heavy with flowers. Some trees bore the marks of elephants’ trunks, some were brightened by playful monkeys, while flocks of intoxicated birds filled the air with their calls. Rāma, whose eyes were like lotuses, spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, the heroic and prosperous one who walked behind him. “See, the trees have glossy leaves, and the animals and birds are gentle. Not far from here is the hermitage of the great sage whose mind is pure. That hermitage, renowned throughout the world as Agastya’s, is visible here. By his deeds, it removes the fatigue of all who are weary.” He described the forest, thick with smoke, festooned with garlands of bark-cloth, peaceful with calm herds of deer, and alive with the songs of many birds. “He, desiring the welfare of all worlds, subdued Death itself and made the southern quarter a place of refuge through his virtue. This is the hermitage of that sage whose power made the southern quarter feared by the Rākṣasas. Since he claimed this land, the night-roaming beings have lived peacefully, free from enmity.” Rāma continued, “This southern quarter, named after the blessed one, is renowned in the three worlds and cannot be conquered by the wicked. The great Vindhya mountain, which once tried to block the path of the sun, now remains at its height, obeying Agastya’s command. Here is the illustrious hermitage of Agastya, long-lived and famous for his deeds, its grounds graced by gentle deer.” “He is a virtuous sage, honored by all, ever devoted to the welfare of the good. He will unite us with what is best. Here, I will worship Agastya, the great sage, and, gentle one, I wish to spend the remainder of our forest dwelling here. The gods, Gandharvas, Siddhas, and supreme seers—those who restrain their diets—all constantly attend upon Agastya in this place.” “In this hermitage, no liar, cruel, deceitful, or wicked person can reside; such is the nature of its sage. Here, gods, Yakṣas, Nāgas, and birds, all devoted to dharma, dwell in harmony. The great Siddhas, having abandoned their bodies, have ascended to heaven in chariots shining like the sun. Here, the gods grant yaksha-hood, immortality, and kingdoms to those who worship with auspicious offerings.” “We have arrived at the hermitage, O Saumitri. Go ahead and announce to the sage that I have come, along with Sītā.” Thus concludes the eleventh chapter, and so begins the twelfth, in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Aranya Kāṇḍa.