Hearing the words of the wise Nārada, the virtuous and eloquent sage Vālmīki, together with his disciples, honored the great sage with deep respect. It was at this point that the second chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, the Bālakāṇḍa, was to be heard. After a short while, when Nārada had departed for the world of the gods, Vālmīki made his way to the bank of the river Tamasā, not far from the sacred Jahnavī. Upon reaching the riverbank, the sage observed the ford, noticing it was free from mud, and spoke to his disciple, who stood nearby. “Bharadvāja, see how this ford is clear and delightful, its water pure and pleasing to the minds of good people,” he said. “Set down the water pot, dear one, and hand me my bark garment; I wish to bathe here at this excellent ford of the Tamasā.” Obedient and disciplined, Bharadvāja handed his teacher the bark garment. Taking it from his disciple’s hand, the self-controlled Vālmīki wandered about, observing the vast forest all around. Nearby, he saw a pair of krauñcha birds moving together, inseparable, their calls sweet and filled with joy. But as the sage watched, a hunter with cruel intent struck down the male bird, killing him. The female, seeing her companion’s body stained with blood and writhing on the ground, cried out in a voice of deep sorrow. Separated from her beloved mate—the beautiful, copper-headed, feather-adorned bird—she mourned pitifully. Witnessing this cruel act, compassion welled up in the heart of the righteous sage. Moved by pity, Vālmīki thought, “This is unrighteous.” Gazing at the weeping krauñcha, he spoke words that rose from his grief: “Hunter, may you never attain lasting fame, since you killed one of the krauñcha pair, driven by lust.” As he uttered these words, Vālmīki was 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, remain just so.” His disciple joyfully received these excellent words, and the teacher was pleased. Having performed his ritual ablutions at that holy place, Vālmīki returned to the hermitage, his mind dwelling on the event he had witnessed. Bharadvāja, ever obedient and learned, took up the full water pot and followed behind his teacher. Once inside the hermitage, the sage, versed in righteousness, sat down with his disciple, engaged in other conversations, and then settled into meditation. At that moment, Brahmā, the four-faced and radiant creator of the worlds, appeared before Vālmīki. Seeing the Lord, Vālmīki immediately rose, composed his speech, joined his palms in reverence, and stood, filled with wonder. He honored Brahmā with the traditional offerings—water for the feet, arghya, a seat, and salutations—and, having bowed properly, inquired after the god’s well-being. Brahmā, seated on the highly honored seat, offered a seat in turn to Vālmīki, who, with Brahmā’s approval, sat down. The Lord of all beings was visibly present. With his mind still absorbed in the sorrowful event, Vālmīki entered meditation, pondering the cruel deed of the wicked-hearted hunter. Mourning the senseless killing of the lovely-voiced krauñcha bird, he again sang the verse he had composed, lamenting for the bereaved female. As Vālmīki’s mind withdrew inward, immersed in grief, Brahmā smiled and addressed the sage: “Let this verse remain as you have composed it; there is no need for further deliberation. By my will alone, O sage, this Sarasvatī has arisen in you. “Compose the entire story of Rāma, O best of sages—the righteous and wise Lord—for the world. Tell the account of the steadfast one, as you heard it from Nārada, both the secret and the open events that befell that wise man. Whatever happened to Rāma, to Saumitri, to all the rākṣasas, and to Vaidehī—whether openly or in secret—all that is unknown will become known to you; no falsehood will enter your speech in this poem. “Compose the sacred story of Rāma, bound in verses and delightful, for as long as mountains and rivers endure upon the earth. So long as the tale of Rāma, created by you, is told, the story of the Rāmāyaṇa will be heard among people. For that duration, above and below, you will dwell among people.” Having spoken thus, the blessed Brahmā vanished. The venerable sage, filled with wonder, departed with his disciples. From then on, all his disciples, delighted and greatly astonished, repeatedly sang that first verse, cherishing its beauty and significance. And so, it is said, by reciting this sacred poem, a Brahmin attains eloquence, a Kṣatriya attains lordship over the earth, a merchant finds success in trade, and even a Śūdra attains greatness.