At that moment, Rama, his heart burning with the anguish of Sita’s abduction, turned to his brother Lakshmana. His voice thundered with fury, “Now, Saumitri, you shall witness my might. No beings, O Lakshmana, shall ascend to the heavens today. Behold, the world itself will be thrown into chaos, pierced through by my arrows—arrows that no living being can withstand.” His wrath was unrestrained as he declared, “For Maithili’s sake, I will destroy these demons and fiends. Let the gods themselves witness the power of my anger and my terrible arrows. Today, the gods will see my arrows, released in wrath and flying far—neither gods, nor titans, nor fiends, nor demons will remain. Out of my fury, if the lords do not restore Sita to me—whether she is lost or dead—then the three worlds will be destroyed. The realms of gods, demons, yakshas, even the rakshasas, will fall, shattered by torrents of my arrows. Today, I will make these worlds lawless with my shafts.” He continued, voice trembling with emotion, “If they do not return Sita, my beloved Vaidehi, I will destroy the entire world—the threefold universe, all that moves and does not move—and with my arrows I will torment it until I see her again.” Having spoken these words, Rama’s eyes blazed red with anger, his lips quivered, and he fastened his bark garment and deerskin, binding up his matted locks. In that state, the body of wise Rama, fierce with rage, shone like Rudra himself when he destroyed Tripura. Rama then took his bow from Lakshmana, stringing it tight, and selected a blazing, terrible arrow, deadly as a venomous serpent. Full of fire, Rama, conqueror of enemy cities, fitted the arrow to his bow and, enraged like the fire at the end of an age, spoke again: “As old age, death, time, and fate are never turned back among all beings, O Lakshmana, so too, joined with wrath, I am now unstoppable. If today Sita, the faultless Maithili, is not returned to me as she was, then I shall overturn the world of gods, gandharvas, men, and serpents, along with its mountains.” Thus, in his anguish, Rama burned like the annihilating fire at the world’s end, fit to destroy all beings. His bow was strung, his breath came heavy and fast, his heart set on burning the world, just as Shiva does at the end of an age. Lakshmana, seeing Rama consumed by a rage greater than ever before, approached with folded hands, his face parched with worry. Gently he spoke, “Once gentle and self-controlled, devoted to the welfare of all beings, you should not abandon your nature by succumbing to anger. Beauty resides in the moon, radiance in the sun, movement in the wind, and patience on earth; likewise, supreme fame is ever established in you, brother. You should not destroy the worlds for the offense of one. I do not yet know whose battle-chariot this is, broken as it is. By whom, for whom, and for what reason is this chariot, with its yoke and fittings, wounded by hooves and wheels, sprinkled with drops of blood?” He surveyed the scene. “This place, O prince, is the site of a fierce battle now ended, but the struggle was only between one and another, not two armies. I see no trace of a great army’s movement here. You should not destroy the worlds for the deed of a single person. Gentle and peaceful rulers administer just punishment; you are always the refuge and highest goal of all beings. Who, O Raghava, would approve the loss of your wife? Rivers, oceans, mountains, gods, Gandharvas, and demons—none are able to harm you, just as the virtuous cannot harm one who is consecrated. O king, we should search for the one who has taken Sita.” Lakshmana spoke with conviction, “With you, unrivaled and armed with your bow, and aided by the foremost sages, we shall search the ocean, the mountains, and the forests. We shall thoroughly search the dreadful caves, the many lotus lakes, and the realms of gods and Gandharvas. Until we find the one who has taken your wife, if the lords of heaven do not return your spouse by peaceful means, O king of Kosala, then you shall act when the time is right. If you do not obtain Sita by virtue, persuasion, and humility, then destroy them with arrows tipped with gold, like Indra’s thunderbolts.” But grief still overwhelmed Rama. He lamented like one abandoned, his mind lost in sorrow and delusion. Lakshmana, after a while, gently pressed Rama’s feet to awaken him from his despair. He reminded Rama, “By great austerity and by great deeds, King Dasharatha obtained you, as the immortals obtain ambrosia. Bound by your virtues, the king, lord of the earth, attained divinity upon separation from you, as we have heard regarding Bharata. If you, Kakutstha, cannot endure this sorrow, then who else, being ordinary and of little strength, could possibly endure it? Take heart, best of men; who among living beings is untouched by misfortune? Like fire, O king, they touch for a moment and then pass away.” Lakshmana’s words were gentle but firm. “If, overwhelmed by grief, you were to burn the worlds with your energy, O tiger among men, where would the afflicted people find relief? This is the very nature of the world: even Yayati, son of Nahusha, who attained the same realm as Indra, faced misfortune as well.” Thus, Lakshmana sought to soothe Rama’s anguish, reminding him of his duty, his strength, and the nature of suffering, urging him to patience and resolve in the search for Sita.