With an earnest and noble endeavor, the wise and graceful Tara soothed the turmoil in Lakshmana’s heart, easing his distress over his brother’s plight and the negligent indulgence of the monkey king. Gathering his composure, Lakshmana fortified his resolve, standing firm in the sovereign’s decree to summon warriors for the great search. With measured steps, he entered the halls of Sugreeva, where the king, like the radiant full moon amidst a constellation of celestial nymphs, yet bore the mark of revelry and intoxication. The sight was unsettling to a man of unwavering principle, one who had spent years in the sacred company of hermits and sages, treading the hallowed grounds of divine abodes. To such a warrior, devoted to virtue, this spectacle was most unbecoming.
Balancing between his bereaved brother’s sorrow and the monkey king’s unrestrained mirth, Lakshmana, with controlled indignation, addressed Sugreeva, who had risen unsteadily, supported by his consorts. With a voice measured yet laced with reprimand, he declared:
“O, King! The ruler who possesses strength, a noble entourage, kindness, restraint over his senses, gratitude, and adherence to truth and morality shall command the highest honor. But the selfish sovereign who fails to return his allies’ aid is deemed lower than even the most cruel of beasts. If a man, having vowed to give but one horse, fails in his word, he incurs the sin of slaying a hundred. If he neglects his promise of a single cow, he bears the burden of a thousand slain. Yet graver still is the fate of one who betrays a benefactor—for his sin equals that of destroying kin and kindred.
Sugreeva! You received the greatest of blessings from my noble brother, yet you falter in repaying your debt. Know that Brahma himself proclaimed in times of yore: ‘A man may seek atonement for slaying a cow, for drunken folly, for theft, and for a broken vow, but there is no redemption for ingratitude.’
O King! Rama upheld his word and restored you to your throne, yet you forsake your solemn pledge. You appear not as you once did—your truth and loyalty now stand in question. The onset of autumn should have heralded the commencement of Sita’s search, yet instead of honoring your vow, you wallow in pleasure. Beware, for this deception is akin to the serpent that hisses beneath the guise of a humble frog. If you persist in such negligence, you shall awaken the wrath of Rama—a wrath beyond measure. You mistake his patience for indifference, but the consequence of your inaction shall be dire.
At these words, Lakshmana’s blazing eyes and thunderous demeanor sent a tremor through the court, and the very air seemed to tremble with his righteous ire. In that moment, Tara, luminous as the full moon piercing through stormy clouds, stepped forth and spoke with grace:
**”O noble son of Sumitra! Your rebuke is undeserved, for the king of Kishkindha is neither selfish nor devoid of wisdom. He is neither cruel nor deceitful. True, in the battlefield, Rama performed an immeasurable favor, and Sugreeva has neither forgotten nor disregarded it. By Rama’s grace, Sugreeva has regained honor, wealth, kingdom, and love, yet you must know—he has spent years in exile, tormented by fear and strife. Only now, in the safety of Rama’s shelter, has he surrendered to long-denied slumber, much as the great sage Vishwamitra, lost in the embrace of celestial beauty, once let a decade pass as but a fleeting day. If even a rishi of unparalleled brilliance succumbed to the veils of time, what, then, of a mere mortal?
O valiant Lakshmana, by the inexorable law of nature, Sugreeva has momentarily faltered, but Rama’s boundless grace shall forgive him. I beseech you, cast aside your wrath, for anger does not befit one of your wisdom. You, who know the sacred path of Dharma, must not be swayed by momentary passions. Rama’s mission is not forgotten—Sugreeva will see it fulfilled.
Know this—Lanka is fortified by a hundred crores of demons, dwelling in thirty-six formidable strongholds, guarded ceaselessly by warriors of unfathomable might. These fiends, gifted with shape-shifting abilities and possessed of immeasurable strength, cannot be vanquished without strategy and skill. Even the mighty Vali spoke of Ravana’s strength, though the depth of his power remains unknown to me.
The gathering of formidable warriors is already in motion. Sugreeva’s messengers, swift and unwavering in duty, toil without respite. Today itself, the vast legions shall assemble, for as per Vali’s decree, none may fail to appear within the allotted time under penalty of death.”**
At Tara’s measured and eloquent appeal, the embers of Lakshmana’s anger cooled as if doused by a cleansing stream. The fervor of his wrath dissipated, and he stood, as one who casts aside a damp cloth after a sacred ablution. The atmosphere, once thick with tension, was now tempered with reason.
At last, Sugreeva, now freed from the haze of indulgence, bowed with humility and spoke with reverence:
“O Prince Lakshmana! By the divine grace of Lord Rama, I regained my honor, my realm, my wealth, and my beloved. No service I render can ever match the boon he has granted me. Verily, Rama, the embodiment of virtue, shall reclaim Sita through his own might, and I am but a humble instrument in his divine purpose. With but a single arrow, he could obliterate Ravana and his forces, yet in his mercy, he allows me the privilege of aiding him in this great endeavor. I am, and shall always remain, his faithful servant. If I have erred, knowingly or unknowingly, I beseech your forgiveness.”
At these words, Lakshmana’s heart was softened. He replied with warmth:
“O King of Kishkindha! You stand as our shield and protector. Your humility is the safeguard of my brother’s faith. Under your command, this mission shall not falter. Your unwavering mind and mighty strength make you worthy of Kishkindha’s throne. With your aid, Rama shall triumph over the demons without hesitation. Your loyalty and virtue shall fortify your valor, and by Rama’s trust, your path shall be blessed.
Indeed, my brother, in his immeasurable grace, tolerates your delay only because he holds steadfast faith in you. You have been chosen by divine will to be his ally, a warrior destined to stand beside him. Now, O valiant one, let us depart, for the sorrow-stricken Rama awaits. Let your presence be the solace to his grief.
And O noble friend! Grieved as I was at Rama’s suffering, my anger may have burned too fiercely in your presence. If I have spoken harshly, I seek your pardon.”**
With but a subtle shift in thought and understanding, what once seemed a brewing conflict gave way to unity and purpose. In every age, miscommunication, untimely words, arrogance, complacency, fear, and doubt have sabotaged even the noblest of missions. Yet, when wisdom and humility prevail, the course of destiny aligns.