As Rama’s grief over Sita’s abduction burned within him, he spoke to his brother Lakshmana with a voice trembling with wrath. “Just as old age, death, time, and fate are never turned back among all beings, O Lakshmana, so too, when I am joined with anger, I am truly unstoppable. If today they do not return Sita, the faultless Maithili, as she was before, then I shall overturn the world of gods, gandharvas, men, and serpents, along with its mountains.” Now begins the sixty-fifth sarga in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Aranyakanda. At that moment, Rama, tormented by the agony of Sita’s loss, blazed like the fire of destruction at the end of the world, capable of consuming all beings. He stood, bow strung and ready, his breath coming fast and heavy, his mind set on burning the entire world, just as Shiva does at the close of an age. Lakshmana, witnessing Rama’s rage—greater than he had ever seen—approached him with folded hands, his face drawn and anxious. He addressed Rama gently, “You, who are always gentle and self-controlled, devoted to the welfare of all beings, should not abandon your true nature by succumbing to anger. Beauty dwells in the moon, radiance in the sun, movement in the wind, and patience upon the earth; in the same way, 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 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 now ended, but the struggle was only between one and another, not two armies, O best of speakers. I see no sign here of a great army’s movement; 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, 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 various 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.” Now begins the sixty-sixth sarga in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Aranyakanda. Rama, thus afflicted by grief, lamented like one abandoned, overwhelmed by great delusion and utterly distressed, his mind lost. Then, after a short while, Lakshmana, son of Sumitra, gently pressed Rama’s feet to awaken him from his sorrow. He spoke with deep affection, “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 is known regarding Bharata. “If you, O 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, grief 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. The two upholders of righteousness, the eyes of the world upon whom all rests—the mighty Sun and Moon—have suffered eclipses. Even the greatest beings and the gods, O best of men, do not escape fate; all embodied beings are subject to destiny. Even among the gods, like Indra and others, both good and bad fortune are heard of, O tiger among men; you should not grieve. “Even if Vaidehi were dead, even if she were lost, O Raghava, you, O hero, should not grieve as an ordinary man would. Men like you, who see all things, do not constantly grieve, O Rama, even in the greatest hardships, for their vision is unwavering. Therefore, best of men, reflect with your intellect on the truth; those endowed with wisdom discern good and evil by reason. “For actions whose merits and faults are unseen, and whose results are uncertain, their desired fruits do not arise without effort. Indeed, O hero, you have often spoken thus to me before; who could instruct you—even Brihaspati himself? Your intellect, O great wise one, is difficult even for the gods to grasp; but as your knowledge is now overcome by grief, I am awakening it. Beholding your divine and human prowess, and your own valor, O bull among the Ikshvakus, strive for the destruction of your enemies.” Thus did Lakshmana, with wisdom and devotion, counsel his elder brother, seeking to steady Rama’s heart and guide him back to his noble path.