Rama, his heart ablaze with anguish for Sita, declared with fierce resolve, “For the sake of Maithili, I shall destroy the demons and fiends; let the very gods witness the might of my wrathful arrows. Today, they will see my arrows, loosed in anger and flying far—arrows before which neither gods, nor titans, nor fiends, nor demons shall remain. In my fury, if the three worlds must be destroyed, so be it; the realms of gods, demons, yakshas, and even rakshasas will fall, shattered by torrents of my arrows. This day, I will make these worlds lawless with my shafts. “If the lords do not return Sita to me—whether she is stolen or dead—if they do not restore my beloved Vaidehi as she was, I shall destroy the entire world, the threefold universe with all that moves and does not move, and torment it with my arrows until I see her again.” Having spoken thus, Rama’s eyes burned red with anger, his lips quivered, and he fastened his bark garment and deerskin, binding up his matted locks. In that moment, the body of wise Rama, furious as he was, shone like Rudra himself when he destroyed Tripura. Rama took his bow from Lakshmana and strung it tight, then seized a blazing, terrible arrow, its power like a venomous serpent. The illustrious Rama, conqueror of enemy cities, fitted the arrow to his bow, and, enraged like the fire at the end of an age, spoke to Lakshmana: “Just as old age, death, time, and fate are never turned back among all beings, so too, joined with wrath, I am unstoppable. If today they do not return Sita, the faultless Maithili, as she was, then I shall overturn the world of gods, gandharvas, men, and serpents, along with its mountains.” At this point, the sixty-fifth sarga of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Aranyakanda, begins. At that time, Rama, tormented by the grief of Sita’s abduction, burned like the annihilating fire at the end of the world, ready to destroy all beings. He stood with his bow strung, breathing heavily again and again, desiring to burn the entire world, just as Shiva does at the end of an age. Seeing Rama thus enraged as never before, Lakshmana, his face parched with anxiety, spoke with folded hands: “O noble one, once gentle and self-controlled, ever devoted to the welfare of all beings, do not abandon your true nature by succumbing to anger. Beauty resides in the moon, radiance in the sun, movement in the wind, and patience rests on earth; likewise, supreme fame is ever established in you. You should not destroy the worlds for the offense of one. I do not yet know whose battle-chariot this is, broken and blood-stained 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? This place, O prince, is the site of a fierce battle just ended, but the struggle was between one and another, not two. 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 the refuge and highest goal of all beings. Who, O Raghava, would dare 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, you should search for the one who has taken Sita. 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, O king, you do not obtain Sita by virtue, persuasion, and humility, then destroy them with arrows tipped with gold, like Indra’s thunderbolts.” Thus begins the sixty-sixth chapter in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Aranyakanda. Afflicted by grief, lamenting like one abandoned, Rama was overwhelmed by sorrow and lost in mind. Then Saumitri, Lakshmana, after a short while, gently awakened Rama, pressing his feet. He spoke with care, “By great austerity and 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 has been heard regarding Bharata. If you, Kakutstha, cannot endure this sorrow that has come, 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, sorrow touches for a moment and then passes away. “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: Yayati, son of Nahusha, attained the same realm as Indra, yet misfortune befell him as well. The great sage Vasishta, our father’s priest, begot a hundred sons in a single day, and all of them were likewise lost. Even this earth, mother of the world, revered by all beings, O lord of Kosala, is seen to tremble.” Thus, Lakshmana, with gentle words and steadfast devotion, sought to calm Rama’s burning grief, guiding him back to patience and the path of dharma.