Many sages gathered around Rāma once Śarabhaṅga had ascended to svarga. They told him their plight of being tormented by rākṣasas along River Pampā, Mandākinī, and the Citrakūṭa Mountain. Rāma promised them protection and proceeded to the āśrama of Sutīkṣṇa along with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā.
As they neared Sage Sutīkṣṇa’s āśrama, they found the environs garlanded with bark clothes. They saw the sage who had performed extensive tapas. Sutīkṣṇa welcomed them and told Rāma, “I was only waiting to see you in person before I ascend to svarga!” Rāma sought his advice regarding the best place to stay in the forest. The sage offered, “Why don’t you stay right here, in the āśrama!” As a response, Rāma pulled his bow with an arrow and said, “I might slay animals in the vicinity with my arrows even as I reside here and you may be implicated. Can there be anything more unfortunate than that? I don’t think it is right for me to stay here for long.” They spent the night in the āśrama and the next morning, they bathed in ice-cold water scented with fragrance of lotuses. As per Sutīkṣṇa’s advice, they went ahead to Daṇḍakāraṇya.
After they left Sutīkṣṇa’s āśrama, Sītā addressed Rāma in an affectionate voice. She said, “The practice of dharma requires the greatest care and avoiding of deliberate misdeeds. The three gravest misdeeds include – being dishonest, having an affair with another’s wife, and attacking even when not provoked. The latter two are worse than the first. You are never guilty of telling lies and you would never lust another’s wife. However, you might be prone to the third. Though thinking of your deeds usually brings me happiness, I disapprove of going to Daṇḍakāraṇya. I am afraid that you and your brother may shoot arrows unnecessarily on forest dwellers. A bow to a kṣatriya is like fuel to fire.
“Once upon a time, a truthful and pure tapasvī lived in a sacred forest where animals delighted to come. In order to pose an obstacle to his tapas, Indra came to his āśrama in the disguise of a soldier and deposited his sword for safekeeping with the tapasvī. After having procured the weapon, in order to protect it, the tapasvī carried it everywhere with him; from constantly bearing the weapon, his heart too turned violent. Giving up tapas, he took to reckless violence and was drawn to adharma. Because he lived with the weapon, the muni went to naraka.
“I am merely reminding you out of love and respect; I am not instructing you: On no account should you slay the rākṣasas of Daṇḍakāraṇya unprovoked. Kṣatriyas who live in the forest should only use their bows to protect those in distress. Evil thoughts arise out of wielding weapons. You may fully execute your kṣatriya-dharma once you are back in Ayodhyā. My joy will find its fulfilment when you completely renounce kingship and become a contented muni.
“From dharma comes artha, and from dharma emerges happiness. The very essence of this world is dharma. It only comes to those who have control over their own selves. Remaining pure in your heart, my dear husband, you must follow the dharma that befits a tapovana. You know this all, I am sure. I only said this out of a woman’s impertinence. But your younger brother and you should give it careful thought and then do what you think is the best.”
Upon listening to the words spoken by Sītā that were filled with devotion towards her husband, Rāma said, “Devī, you have said the best for my well-being! Your words are worthy of you and attest your noble birth, O daughter of Janaka! If I may recall the words you uttered – ‘Kṣatriyas wield the bow to ensure that a voice of distress is never heard.’ The sages in the forest are really in distress. They, the refuge of all beings, have taken refuge in me. They are terrified by the savage rākṣasas. The seers have begged me to help them. In reply, I fell at their feet and said, ‘Please forgive me. It is really embarrassing for me that you have come seeking me, while I should be seeking your guidance.’ The ṛṣis said that though they have the ascetic power to eliminate the rākṣasas themselves, they don’t want to squander what took them long to gain. And once I heard their words, O Jānakī, I promised to do my best to safeguard them—once I have given my word, I cannot retreat. I can even give up my life, yours, or Lakṣmaṇa’s but cannot break a promise, especially to brāhmaṇas. I would have helped them even unasked, then what more to say when I have been requested by them and have given my word! I am immensely delighted, Vaidehi, with the words you have spoken out of affection towards me. Nobody who does not love another offer guidance to him. Your words were, indeed, worthy of you, Sītā!”
~
Rāma walked in the front, followed by Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa behind them, ever alert with his bow. After traveling a long distance, in the evening, they came across a lovely pond in which the sound of singing and musical instruments could be heard. However, there was no one to be seen except for herds of elephants, cranes, swans, and other birds. Sage Dharmabhṛt told them that the lake was called Pañcāpsara as it was inhabited by five apsaras, who had come to disrupt the tapas performed by Sage Māṇḍakarṇi. They became the wives of the sage, who built them houses hidden in the pond. As they played together, one could hear musical instruments mingling with the tinkling jewellery and their mellifluous singing.
Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa went ahead and stayed in āśramas. In one place they resided for ten months, in others for a year, or four, five, six, or more months. Thus, ten years went by as they enjoyed the company of the ṛṣis. They went back to the āśrama of Sutīkṣṇa and stayed there for a while as well. Rāma expressed his interest to visit the āśrama of Sage Agastya. Sutīkṣṇa told them the route to take. Accordingly, the three of them headed south and arrived at the spot Sutīkṣṇa had indicated. The place revealed signs that indicated the existence of an āśrama. They could smell the fragrance of ripe pippala fruits and noticed piles of logs heaped up. They saw sheaves of darbha grass along the way and observed dark smoke of the homas emerging from the middle of the forest.
Rāma recalled the glory of Sage Agastya and narrated it to Lakṣmaṇa, “Dear brother, Agastya made this region a safe place and removed the threat of death. Once upon a time, Vātāpi and Ilvala, two cruel asuras lived here. The heartless Ilvala would disguise himself as brāhmaṇa and would speak chaste Saṃskṛta. He would invite brāhmaṇas for śrāddha. His brother Vātāpi would take the form of a ram, and Ilvala would cook him and feed the brāhmaṇas. Once the brāhmaṇas had eaten, Ilvala would call out loud, ‘Vātāpi, come out!’ Upon hearing his brother’s summons, Vātāpi would come out snorting like a ram, tearing apart the body of every brāhmaṇa present. The brothers, thus, killed thousands of brāhmaṇas. The devas sought the help of Agastya to get rid of the asuras. The sage attended the śrāddha. He was offered Vātāpi in the form of ram and Agastya consumed him. Ilvala then declared that the śrāddha was over, offered water to clean their hands, and called out to his brother, ‘Come out!’ Even as he was calling, Agastya said with a smile, ‘How can the rākṣasa come out, when he has been digested by me? He has reached Yama’s abode!’ Enraged, Ilvala attacked Agastya, but was reduced to ashes by the fire of Agastya’s eyes. Lakṣmaṇa! The āśrama we see at the distance must belong to the great sage’s brother.” They spent a night there and headed to Agastya’s āśrama.
Rāma said, “From the time the great sage Agastya set foot in this region, the rākṣasas gave up their hostility and turned peaceful. Thus, this Southern region, now safe is known by the name of the great seer throughout the three worlds. The greatest of the mountains, Vindhyā, heeding to his command, no longer grows, as it once did in order to obstruct the course of the Sun. Enter the āśrama, Lakṣmaṇa, and tell the sage that Sītā and I have arrived.”
Agastya considered himself fortunate to have Rāma visit him. As they entered, Rāma noticed the divine shrines of Brahmā, Agni, Indra, Soma, Bhaga, Kubera, and others. Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa bowed down to the sage. Offering affectionate hospitality, Agastya gifted Rāma a gem-studded bow that once belonged to Viṣṇu, a powerful arrow and a pair of quivers which were given to him by Indra. Agastya also gifted him a sword that Viṣṇu had used for vanquishing asuras. The sage then addressed Rāma, “You must do all your can to ensure Sītā’s comfort, for she has done the hardest thing by following you into the forest. From the time of creation, women’s nature has been to love their men when everything is fine, and to abandon them in times of hardship. Women are as unpredictable as lighting and as sharp as weapons. But your wife is free of all such faults. Stay here with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa.”
Rāma was thrilled hearing the sage’s words. He said, “I am fortunate that the virtues of my brother and wife please you as well. However, I would like to establish my own āśrama and please direct me to the best place to do so.” Agastya then directed him to the region known as Pañcavaṭī, where the trees are full of flowers. The brothers along with Sītā received the sage’s blessings and took his leave.
~
On their way to Pañcavaṭī, they encountered a huge vulture. Mistaking him for a rākṣasa, the brothers demanded to know his identity. In a sweet and kindly voice, the vulture replied, “Child, I am Jaṭāyu, your father’s friend. My brother Sampāti and I were born to Aruṇa and Śyenī. If you wish, I will live with you and protect Sītā whenever you and Lakṣmaṇa are away.” Rāma had heard from his father about Jaṭāyu and their friendship. He embraced the huge bird and bowed down before him. He committed Sītā to the care of the powerful bird.
~
They entered Pañcavaṭī and Rāma pointed a place, not far from the river Godāvarī as the suitable spot for their habitation. Pointing at the mountains at a distance, which had veins of gold, silver, and copper upon them, Rāma observed that they resembled mighty elephants painted with brilliant stripes. There were lovely trees on the mountains – sāla, tāla, tamāla, kharjūra, panasa, āmraka, nīvāra, and punnāga as well as several groves. Rāma decided that that would be the best spot for them to live in the company of Jaṭāyu. As per the instruction of Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa built a spacious leaf hut with walls of clay, and pillars and crossbeams of bamboo. He bathed in the Godāvarī, brought lotuses and fruits, and offered puṣpa-bali as per the prescribed rites. Rāma was thrilled looking at the āśrama that Lakṣmaṇa had thus constructed, embraced him affectionately, and said, “Through this embrace, I give you all the compensation I can offer for your brilliant work. With such a wise and noble son as you, my father has truly not passed away!”
~
As they lived happily there, autumn passed and winter, Rāma’s favourite season, arrived. Once, at day break, Rāma headed to the river Godāvarī to bathe and was followed by Lakṣmaṇa, who carried the water pot and followed him with Sītā. Lakṣmaṇa said to his older brother, “Now the season you love is here – a veritable ornament to the world. The earth is bedecked with a garland of crops and the Sun remains in the South. No longer can one sleep outdoors. All the brightness of the moon seems to have passed on to the Sun and it looks like a mirror that is clouded over by breath. Even the full moon does not shine brightly, and you might miss its beauty as with Sītā, when she is tanned by the Sun. The forest appears fast asleep, blanketed by darkness of snow, devoid of flowers. O brother, at this time back in the city, Bharata, deep in sorrow, must be performing tapas, out of his bhakti towards you. He has given up the kingdom and all comforts, eats limited food and sleeps on the cold ground. At this moment, probably, he is getting ready to bathe too; he is, perhaps, walking to the River Sarayū accompanied by his citizens. He is delicate, honest, self-restrained, and dhārmic, and is raised amidst luxuries. How can he endure hardships such as cold? Bharata will win a place in svarga, as he observes all the austerities that you observe in the forest. He disproves the popular saying that men take after their mothers and not fathers. With a noble husband like Daśaratha and a son virtuous like Bharata, how could Kaikeyī turn so cruel?”
Rāma could not bear to hear such criticism. He said, “Never criticise our mother Kaikeyī. Speak of Bharata like you were doing until now. No, don’t do that too; my heart will start wavering like that of a child out of my love for Bharata.”
Lamenting thus, Rāma reached the river Godāvarī with his wife and brother. They bathed and performed stuti to the Sūrya and the other devas.
