When Śūrpaṇakhā, wounded and humiliated, returned to Laṅkā, she found her brother Rāvaṇa, the terror of the worlds, seated among his ministers. Overcome by distress and anger, she spoke harshly to him, her words sharp and accusing. “You are lost in pleasures, unrestrained and self-willed,” she declared, “and you fail to see the dreadful peril that has arisen. A king who is attached to base enjoyments, ruled by desire and greed, is not respected by his people—just as the fire of a cremation ground is disregarded by all.” She continued, “A king who does not act at the proper time perishes, along with his kingdom and his very duties. People avoid a careless, hard-to-approach, and uncontrolled king, just as elephants avoid a muddy riverbank. Those who do not protect their domains or master themselves do not shine with prosperity, just as mountains are hidden beneath the sea. How will you, lacking wisdom and stability, stand against gods, gandharvas, or wise demons? You behave childishly, without discernment—how can you rule?” Śūrpaṇakhā pressed on, “A king whose spies, treasury, and policies are not under his control is no better than an ordinary man. Kings are called ‘far-sighted’ because, through intelligence agents, they perceive dangers even from afar. But you, Rāvaṇa, do not employ spies and are surrounded by ordinary counselors. You do not even realize that your own people and Janasthāna have been destroyed.” She revealed the shocking news: “Fourteen thousand Rākṣasas of terrible deeds have been slain by Rāma alone, along with Khara and Dūṣaṇa. Rāma has granted safety to the sages, the Daṇḍaka forest is secure, and Janasthāna has been violated by his tireless hand. Yet you, greedy, careless, and dependent on others, do not perceive the danger threatening your own realm. No one supports a king who is harsh, ungenerous, careless, arrogant, and deceitful when he faces distress. Even his own people destroy a king who is excessively proud, unapproachable, conceited, and angry in times of trouble.” She warned, “He who neglects his duties and feels no fear in danger quickly loses his kingdom, becomes miserable, and is regarded as worthless as grass. Tasks may be accomplished with dry sticks, clods, or dust, but not by kings who have fallen from their position. Just as a worn garment or a crushed garland is discarded, so too is a deposed king, no matter his abilities. But the vigilant, all-knowing, self-controlled, grateful, and righteous king remains established for a long time. Whether asleep or awake, he keeps watch with the eye of policy; a king whose anger and favor are clear is honored by all. But you, Rāvaṇa, of evil mind, lack these virtues—you did not learn, through spies, of the great slaughter of the Rākṣasas. You insult others, cling to pleasures, and cannot judge place or time. Your discernment of virtues and faults is unsound, and your ruined kingdom will soon be destroyed.” Having spoken thus, Śūrpaṇakhā’s words weighed heavily on Rāvaṇa, the lord of the night-walkers. Endowed with wealth, pride, and power, he pondered her accusations for a long time. Seeing his sister’s harsh words, Rāvaṇa, angered amidst his ministers, questioned her. “Who is this Rāma?” he demanded. “What is his strength? What is his appearance? What is his prowess? And why has he entered the Daṇḍaka forest, which is so difficult to traverse? What weapon does he possess, by which Khara, Triśiras, and Dūṣaṇa were slain in battle? Tell me truthfully, O lovely-limbed one—who disfigured you?” Thus questioned by the lord of the Rākṣasas, the demoness, still burning with anger, began to describe Rāma as he truly was. “Rāma, son of Daśaratha, is long-armed and wide-eyed, clad in bark and black antelope skin. Handsome as Kāmadeva, he draws a bow like Indra’s and is adorned with golden armlets. He launches blazing arrows, fierce as deadly serpents, never ceasing in his strength. In battle, I did not see him draw his bow, but I saw his enemies’ armies struck down by showers of arrows, as if Indra himself sent a hailstorm to destroy the finest crops. In little more than half a muhūrta, that one man on foot slew fourteen thousand fierce Rākṣasas, including Khara and Dūṣaṇa, with sharp arrows.” She continued, “He granted safety to the sages, and now the Daṇḍaka forest is secure. I alone barely escaped, humiliated by that great-souled one, Rāma, who, knowing himself, refrained from killing a woman. His brother, too, is of great energy—equal in valor and virtue, devoted and loyal. Lakṣmaṇa by name, mighty in strength, he is impetuous, unconquerable, a victor, courageous, wise, and strong—Rāma’s right arm, his very life outside his body.” Thus did Śūrpaṇakhā lay bare the strength and virtue of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, and the devastation wrought upon the Rākṣasas, in the presence of Rāvaṇa and his court.