The mighty demon, having been struck down and now lying before Rama and Lakshmana, began to recount his tale. He spoke of the curse that had shaped his fate, saying, “He who cursed me declared, ‘When Rama, having severed your arms, burns you in a lonely forest, then you will regain your own vast and glorious form, adorned with splendor. Know, O Lakshmana, that you are the son of Danu.’” He continued, “Through Indra’s wrath, I was forced into this dreadful form on the battlefield, despite having pleased the Grandsire with severe austerities. The Grandsire granted me long life, and so confusion never touched me. With such a boon, what could Indra do to me? Emboldened, I challenged him in battle, but with his thunderbolt, shining with a hundred spokes, he struck my thighs and head. My limbs were driven deep into my body, and though I begged for release, Indra did not send me to Yama’s abode. Instead, he said, ‘Let the Grandsire’s word be fulfilled.’ How, with broken thighs, head, and mouth—struck by the thunderbolt and left unfed—could I live for long? Yet Indra, instead of ending my life, made my arms a yojana long and placed my mouth in my belly with sharp fangs. With these arms, I seized the forest-dwellers—lions, elephants, deer, and tigers—and devoured them. Then Indra spoke again, ‘When Rama, together with Lakshmana, cuts off your arms in battle, then you will ascend to heaven. Until then, remain in this forest with this form. Whatever I see, I am compelled to seize, and now I am certain that Rama will come to end my suffering.’ With this hope, weary from maintaining this monstrous body, I say to you: you are Rama—blessings to you, Raghava—and I cannot be slain by any other. As the great sage foretold, it is possible for you to slay me. I will offer my counsel and support, O best of men. I will also instruct you both in the sacred rites of friendship, consecrated by fire.” Hearing this, the righteous Rama spoke as Lakshmana listened: “My illustrious wife Sita has been taken by Ravana. After leaving Janasthana with my brother, I know only the name of that rakshasa, not his form. We do not know where he dwells or his strength; we are stricken with grief, wandering without support. It is fitting to show compassion and aid to those who, like us, act in such distress, gathering dry wood broken by elephants at the right time. We will burn you, O hero, in the great pit prepared; so tell us of Sita—by whom or where she was taken. If you truly know, do us this great good and reveal it.” Thus addressed by Rama, the mighty demon replied, skilled in speech, “I do not possess divine knowledge, nor do I know Maithili. But when I am burned and regain my true form, I will tell you who knows of her; I will reveal to you, Rama, that rakshasa who knows. While unburned, I am powerless to know, O lord; the mighty rakshasa who took your Sita—my knowledge has been lost by the curse, and through my own deed I have obtained this form, despised by the world. But before the weary sun sets, cast me into the pit and burn me, Rama, as is proper. When you have burned me according to justice, O descendant of Raghu, I will tell you of the mighty hero who can find that rakshasa. You must make friendship with him, O Rama, for he is righteous, and he will swiftly aid you. Nothing is unknown to him in all three worlds; surrounded by all beings, he once roamed for another purpose.” At this, the seventy-second sarga concludes. Thus instructed by Kabandha, Rama and Lakshmana approached the mountain cleft and prepared the fire. Lakshmana kindled the funeral pyre with blazing firebrands, and it burned brightly on every side. The immense body of Kabandha, like a mound of clarified butter, was slowly consumed as the fat melted in the flames. Suddenly, Kabandha, shaking off the pyre, rose up like a smokeless fire. He appeared radiant, clothed in dustless garments, adorned with a divine garland, and endowed with immense strength. With speed, he leapt from the pyre, shining brilliantly, clad in spotless attire, delighted and adorned with ornaments upon every limb. Now standing in a splendid aerial chariot drawn by swans, renowned and resplendent, Kabandha illuminated all ten directions with his radiance. Moving through the sky, he spoke to Rama: “Listen, Raghava, and I will tell you truly how you can recover Sita. Rama, in this world there are six means by which everything is considered; after being examined by the tenth part, it is served by the tenth portion. You and Lakshmana have reached the tenth portion, yet you lack what is needed; for this reason, misfortune has befallen you, and your wife has been taken. Therefore, you must certainly act, O best of friends; without action, I do not see you attaining success, however much I reflect.” Thus, Kabandha, freed from his curse, offered his guidance to Rama and Lakshmana, pointing the way forward in their quest to find Sita.