In the blessed age of Rāma’s reign, the world flourished in unimagined harmony. No parent would ever face the sorrow of losing a child, and women would remain steadfastly devoted to their husbands, never knowing widowhood. All lived free from the terrors of fire, water, and wind; even fever held no threat. Hunger was unknown, thieves posed no danger, and the cities and kingdoms overflowed with wealth and grain. People rejoiced, their hearts as pure and joyful as in the ancient age of truth. Rāma, having performed countless horse sacrifices and bestowed abundant gold, further gave tens of millions of cows to the learned, following the sacred rites, and unmeasured wealth to the Brahmins. Thus did the illustrious Rāghava establish royal lineages a hundredfold greater than before and set all four classes of society firmly in their proper duties. For ten thousand and one hundred years, Rāma ruled the earth, and then, his work accomplished, he departed for the world of Brahmā. This sacred account, approved by the Vedas, destroys sin and brings merit. Whoever recites the story of Rāma is freed from all sins. One who tells this life-giving tale of the Rāmāyaṇa is honored in heaven after death, together with his sons, grandsons, and companions. By reciting it, a Brahmin gains eloquence, a Kṣatriya attains lordship over the earth, a merchant finds success in trade, and even a Śūdra achieves greatness. Now, the second chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, the Bālakāṇḍa, is to be heard. After hearing the words of the sage Nārada, the virtuous and eloquent Vālmīki, together with his disciples, paid homage to the great sage. Soon after, when Nārada had departed for the world of the gods, Vālmīki journeyed to the bank of the Tamasā river, not far from the holy Jahnavī. Upon reaching the riverbank, the sage observed the ford, free from mud, and turned to his disciple Bharadvāja. “See, Bharadvāja, how this crossing is clear and delightful, with pure water that gladdens the hearts of the good.” He asked his disciple to set down the water pot and bring him his bark garment, for he wished to bathe at this excellent ford. Obediently, Bharadvāja handed the bark garment to his teacher. Taking it, Vālmīki, ever self-controlled, wandered along the riverbank, observing the vast forest around him. Nearby, he saw a pair of krauñcha birds, inseparable, moving together and calling out in sweet, lovely tones. But suddenly, as the sage watched, a hunter with evil intent struck down the male bird, the seat of enmity. The female, seeing her mate fall, his body stained with blood and writhing on the ground, cried out in heartrending grief. Separated from her companion, the twice-born bird, whose coppery head and brilliant feathers had shone with life, mourned deeply. Witnessing this cruel act, compassion welled up in the heart of the righteous sage. Moved by pity, Vālmīki thought, “This is unrighteous,” and, seeing the grieving krauñcha, he spoke out: “Hunter, may you never attain lasting fame, since you killed one of this pair, driven by lust.” As he uttered these words, Vālmīki paused, struck by a sudden realization. “What is this utterance I have spoken, overwhelmed by the bird’s grief?” he wondered. Reflecting deeply, the wise sage composed his mind and spoke to his disciple: “Bound in meter, with syllables arranged, and joined with melody—let this verse, born of my grief, be so and not otherwise.” His disciple, delighted by these excellent words, accepted them joyfully, pleasing his teacher. Having performed his ablutions at that holy place according to custom, Vālmīki returned, his mind dwelling on the event he had witnessed. Bharadvāja, ever obedient, took up the full water pot and followed behind his teacher. Entering the hermitage with his disciple, the sage, versed in righteousness, sat down, engaged in other conversations, and settled into meditation. At that moment, Brahmā, the creator of the worlds, radiant and four-faced, came to see the foremost of sages. Seeing Brahmā, Vālmīki immediately rose, controlled his speech, joined his palms in reverence, and stood filled with wonder. He honored the god with offerings of water for the feet, arghya, a seat, and salutations, and, having bowed properly, inquired after his well-being. Brahmā, seated on the honored seat, offered a seat in turn to Vālmīki, who, with Brahmā’s approval, also sat. Even as he sat, Vālmīki’s mind remained absorbed in the sorrowful event he had witnessed, pondering the cruel deed of the wicked-hearted hunter. Mourning the senseless death of the lovely-voiced krauñcha, he again sang his verse in lament for the grieving female. Once more, his mind withdrawn and immersed in sorrow, Brahmā, smiling gently, addressed the foremost of sages.