The beacon of the illustrious Raghuvamsa, Lord Sri Rama, found himself at odds with his devoted brother Lakshmana, who, unable to escape the shroud of grief, mourned deeply for the lost Sita. “I entrusted Sita to your care, Lakshmana, confident in your strength to guard her. I left her behind, chasing the golden deer to fulfill her wish. Yet, when I found you on the path, my heart was seized with fear, sensing a dire harm had befallen her. Your anxious face only deepened my dread, as ominous signs haunted me—my left eye throbbed without cause, my shoulder trembled, and my heart palpitated with foreboding. Why did you shake my faith, Lakshmana?”
In unbearable grief, Lakshmana, the righteous son of Sumitra, responded to the despairing Rama. “My Lord, I did not leave Sita of my own will. She compelled me with words sharp as arrows. She heard a cry mimicking your voice, calling out in distress—’O Sita! O Lakshmana!’—and was overcome with fear. She demanded I go to you, casting aside all hesitation.”
Though disturbed, Lakshmana had clung to his faith in Rama’s invincibility, believing no demon could harm him. He had tried to reassure Sita, declaring, “No demon can endanger Rama, for he is the protector of gods and men alike. The cry you heard is a deceptive illusion, a demonic trick. Rama, who can safeguard the three realms, would never call for help in such a manner. Trust in his strength and remain fearless.”
Yet Sita, blinded by her anxiety, rejected Lakshmana’s words, accusing him of harboring ill intentions and suspecting him of allegiance to Bharatha. Her harsh rebuke struck Lakshmana deeply, more painful than a poisoned dart. “You desire harm to Rama and seek to detain me under your care,” she charged. “You act on Bharatha’s secret orders, waiting to see my brother fall. You are not his ally but his foe, cloaked in the guise of a friend.”
Despite his sorrow, Lakshmana maintained his composure, but Rama chastised him, lamenting, “Your decision to leave Sita alone was wrong. You know I am capable of vanquishing demons. You should not have heeded Sita’s frenzied words. In times of distress, the words of our loved ones may sting, but we must not abandon them to danger. We must protect them, even from their own fears.”
As Rama recounted the events, he described how he shot the golden deer, which revealed its true demonic form upon death, a body adorned with gold. The demon’s dying cry imitated Rama’s voice, causing terror to Sita and Lakshmana. “I have pierced through its disguise with my arrow, but the damage has been done. Sita is now lost to us.”
Overcome with signs of distress, Rama faltered in his steps, his words trembling as he wept. He hurried back to the hermitage, hopeless, the forest around him echoing his sorrow. “Has Sita been taken by beasts or demons? Is she playing a cruel game of hide and seek? Has she wandered into the forest, curious and unaware of the danger?” Rama’s despair led him to search the woods, questioning trees, flowers, and animals, hoping they had seen his beloved Sita.
He called out to each element of nature, pleading for information, his mind in turmoil. “O Asoka tree, relieve my grief and show me Sita! O elephant, did you see her mimic your gait? Tigress, did she pass by, as fierce and gentle as you?”
His behavior, erratic and filled with anguish, unsettled Lakshmana, who watched his brother’s descent into madness. Rama’s desperate pleas to Sita echoed through the forest, a heartbroken cry for his lost love. “Why do you hide from me, Sita? Why do you tease me so? Stop this game, for it pains me beyond measure!”
At last, Rama’s mind settled on a grim realization—demons must have captured Sita. His heart ached at the thought of her suffering, imagining the horrors she might have endured. “Search carefully,” he urged, “perhaps we can find a trace of her—a fallen ornament, a sign of her struggle.”
In his despair, Rama exhibited the depths of human grief, unable to rest as he searched relentlessly. His frantic state mirrored the anguish of separation from a loved one, a reflection of the human condition. Yet, amidst this turmoil, fate continued its inexorable dance, guiding each step toward an unknown, destined end.