Hearing the sage’s words—rich in meaning and noble in purpose—Rāma, the scion of Raghu’s line, felt his sorrow melt away. It was as if, assured of the fulfillment of his dearest aim, he cast off his distress like a peacock welcoming the first rains with joyous cries. Thus comforted and questioned by the chief of sages, Rāma replied with gentle words, each carefully chosen and steadfast in meaning. He said, “Revered one, since you now ask, I shall speak as best I can, though I am ignorant. For who would disregard the words of the virtuous?” He continued, “I was born here in my father’s house. I grew up gradually, and, having acquired knowledge, I am now established in myself. Then, devoted to good conduct, O leader of sages, I journeyed across this earth girdled by the ocean, undertaking pilgrimages to holy places.” “After that period,” Rāma confessed, “my own discernment swept away my attachment to worldly existence, just as a flood erodes the riverbank. My mind, filled with discrimination, began to reflect deeply, and my intellect lost all taste for enjoyment.” “I wondered: what is this so-called happiness in the endless cycle of worldly existence? People are born only to die, and die only to be born again. All these activities—whether moving or unmoving—remain in their own state; calamities, sinful thoughts, and sources of prosperity all abide separately in their own domains. Thoughts, like sticks of dishonor, come together only through the mind’s own imagination, though they are mutually unconnected.” “This world, dependent on the mind, appears as an object of enjoyment; yet the mind itself seems unreal. By what are we so thoroughly deluded? Alas, we are truly wretched, sold into unreality with deluded minds, like deer lost in a distant forest, chasing the water of a mirage. We have not been sold by anyone, yet we stand as if sold; indeed, we are all deluded, even though we know the truth.” “Are these so-called enjoyments in the world truly so rare? In vain and out of delusion, we remain bound by our own fixed notions. Unknowing for a long time, we have wasted our lives, fallen into deep delusion, bewildered like innocent animals trapped in a pit.” “What use is kingship to me, what use are pleasures? Who am I, and what is all this that has come to be? Let whatever is false remain false—who indeed has truly gained anything? Thinking in this way, O Brahman, I have lost all interest in every state of being, just as a traveler loses desire for deserts.” “Therefore, venerable one, tell me: what is it that perishes, what is it that is born again, and what is it that grows and changes? Old age, death, birth, and prosperity—all these revolve again and again, appearing and disappearing. By these fleeting states, we and others are worn down—see how we are brought to decay, like mountain trees battered by the wind.” “People, as if unconscious, are kept moving by the winds called breath, sounding out in vain like hollow reeds blown by the wind. I am tormented by this thought: how will this suffering cease? I feel like an old tree scorched by a fierce fire burning within its hollow. Even though my heart is sealed like a stone by the pain of worldly existence, I do not weep, for my tears are restrained by fear of my own people. My face is empty, my actions hollow, my tears dry and devoid of feeling; only discernment, dwelling in my heart, observes me in solitude.” “I am greatly bewildered when I recall the state composed of being and non-being, much like a fortunate man, though far from poverty, is troubled by worldly thoughts. Wealth, devoted to separation, deludes the mind, destroys virtues, and brings a net of sorrow. Wealth, twisted with heaps of anxieties, brings me no joy; wives and homes, once obtained, are like dreadful traps.” “My mind finds no satisfaction, O sage, bound as it is by endless reflections on the many faults and the ever-fragile causes of things, just as a wild elephant is chained. At every turn, at every hour, in the darkness of night, the clever thieves of the senses—skilled in plundering discernment—roam the world. Tell me, O wise ones, who among us today are true warriors in this battle?” He continued, “This fortune, O sage, has been devised in this world for diversion; yet, indeed, it brings only confusion and is surely the source of misfortune. Just as a river in the rainy season pours forth abundant, powerful, and tumultuous waves, so too does the dull mind overflow with countless inner surges of excitement. Many restless waves arise in it, stirred by countless whims and fancies, just as a river’s waves are set in motion by its own currents.” “This unfortunate mind does not remain fixed in one place; like a bewildered person with erratic behavior, it runs here and there. When touched, it produces intense burning within, and ultimately brings about its own destruction, like a streak of lamp soot turning into ash. Without any discernment of virtue or vice, it blindly clings to whatever is nearby, like a foolish courtier attached to the king.” “Through various actions, it expands further and further, just as the venom of a serpent spreads and mixes into milk. A person remains gentle and pleasant to both friends and strangers, like the cool touch of frost, until prosperity hardens him, just as a storm turns frost harsh. The wise, the brave, the grateful, the refined, and the gentle—like gems soiled by a handful of dust—are tainted by prosperity.” “O Lord, prosperity does not bring happiness; it only leads to suffering. It secretly carries destruction, just as poison brings death. Three kinds of men are rare: one who is wealthy yet not despised for his birth, one who is brave yet not boastful, and one who is impartial and powerful.” Thus, Rāma poured out his heart, seeking wisdom and release from the sufferings of worldly existence.