A calamity has come upon us, Lakṣmaṇa, bringing death before I could recover my beloved. The power of Time is immense over all beings. See, O tiger among men, how you and I are bewildered by misfortune. Among all creatures, there is no burden too great for fate, Lakṣmaṇa. Even heroes, strong and skilled in weapons, fall in battle when struck by Time, just as sandbanks collapse. Having spoken thus, the steadfast and truly valiant son of Daśaratha, famed and powerful, looked at Saumitri—bold in action—and then composed his own mind firmly. As the two brothers, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, stood together, bound by the grip of monstrous arms, Kabandha, the fearsome rakshasa, addressed them: “Why do you stand still, having seen me, hungry as I am, O best of warriors? By fate you have been sent here, your senses destroyed, for my food.” Lakṣmaṇa, though afflicted by distress, remained resolute and spoke: “Very soon, that vile rakshasa will seize both you and me; therefore, let us swiftly cut off his mighty arms with our swords. This terrifying, huge-bodied rakshasa, with powerful arms, having conquered the world, now wishes to kill us both. O Raghava, for a king, the slaying of those who are helpless is disgraceful, like killing sacrificial animals brought to the midst of a ritual.” Hearing their conversation, the enraged rakshasa, his dreadful mouth agape, began to devour the two brothers. But Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, skilled in knowing the right time and place, joyfully cut off his arms at the shoulder with their swords. Rāma swiftly severed Kabandha’s right arm, and Lakṣmaṇa cut off the left. With his arms cut off, Kabandha fell with a great roar, resounding through the sky, earth, and all directions like a thundercloud. Seeing his arms severed and himself drenched in streams of blood, Kabandha, dejected, asked the two heroes, “Who are you?” Lakṣmaṇa, bearing auspicious marks, told the mighty Kabandha of their lineage: “This is Rāma, known among people as the descendant of Ikṣvāku; know me as his younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa. When the kingdom was denied to him by his mother, Rāma was exiled to the forest; he now wanders this great forest with me and his wife. While this divinely powerful one dwelt in the lonely forest, his wife was taken by a rakshasa; we are searching for her here. But who are you, and for what reason do you, resembling Kabandha, wander in the forest, moving about with a shining mouth on your chest and your legs broken?” Thus addressed, Kabandha recalled Indra’s words and gladly replied, “Welcome to you, tigers among men; by fortune I see you both, and by fortune my arms, which bound you, have been cut off by you. Hear from me, O tiger among men, how I came by this deformed appearance due to my own misconduct, as I truthfully recount it to you.” Kabandha began his tale: “Long ago, O Rāma of mighty arms, I possessed a form of immense strength and valor—an inconceivable form, renowned throughout the three worlds. Just as the radiance of the sun, the moon, and Indra, so was my form; having assumed this appearance, I became a great terror to the worlds. O Rāma, I would terrify the sages dwelling in the forest, here and there; then, a great sage named Sthūlaśiras was angered by me. While he was gathering various forest produce, I harassed him in this form; seeing this, he pronounced upon me a dreadful curse. He said, ‘Let this cruel form of yours be condemned!’ Angered, I begged him that there might be an end to the curse. He, the author of the curse, spoke these words to me: ‘When Rāma, having cut off your arms, burns you in a lonely forest, then you will regain your own vast and splendid form, adorned with glory. Know, O Lakṣmaṇa, that you are the son of Danu.’ “Through Indra’s wrath, I obtained this form on the battlefield; for by severe austerity I had pleased the Grandsire. He granted me long life, and thus confusion did not touch me. Having obtained long life, what could Indra do to me? Thinking thus, I challenged Indra in battle; with his hundred-spoked thunderbolt, he struck my thighs and head. My thighs and head were pierced into my body; though I begged him, he did not send me to the abode of Yama. He said to me, ‘Let the Grandsire’s word be fulfilled.’ How could I, unfed and with broken thighs, head, and mouth—struck by the thunderbolt—live for a very long time? Thus addressed, Indra made my arms a yojana long and fashioned my mouth in my belly with sharp fangs. With these long arms, I seize the forest-dwellers here and devour lions, elephants, deer, and tigers all around. Then Indra said to me, ‘When Rāma, together with Lakṣmaṇa—’” So Kabandha revealed the story of his transformation, his curse, and his hope for release, as the two brothers listened with compassion and resolve.