सीतावियोगे रामविलापः — Rama’s Lament in Separation from Sita
अरण्यकाण्ड
Sarga 63 concentrates on the immediate psychological aftermath of Sita’s disappearance. Rama, described as a prince separated from his beloved, is overwhelmed by śoka (grief) and moha (disorientation), repeatedly re-entering intense despair even as he perceives Lakshmana’s distress. His speech cycles through self-indictment (interpreting successive calamities as karmic consequence), vivid conjectures about Sita’s bodily harm at the hands of rākṣasas, and memory-images of domestic intimacy in the forest (Sita seated on a rock, smiling and conversing with Lakshmana). Rama then attempts inferential searching: he considers whether she went to the Godavari, to gather lotuses, or into a flowering forest, rejecting each possibility because Sita would not go alone. The lament expands into cosmic apostrophe, addressing Āditya (Sun) and Vāyu (Wind) as omniscient witnesses who might reveal whether she has been taken, killed, or is moving along a path. Lakshmana responds with time-appropriate counsel: abandon grief, adopt courage and enthusiasm for the search, since resolute persons do not collapse even in difficult tasks. The sarga closes with Rama’s inability to sustain that counsel, relinquishing fortitude and falling back into deep sorrow—marking grief as both an emotional state and a narrative engine driving the search.
Verse 3.63.1
स राजपुत्रः प्रियया विहीनः शोकेन मोहेन च पीड्यमानः।विषादयन्भ्रातरमार्तरूपो भूयो विषादं प्रविवेश तीव्रम्।।।।
That prince, bereft of his beloved and afflicted by sorrow and bewilderment, distressed his brother as well; himself in a pained condition, he again sank into intense despondency.
Verse 3.63.2
स लक्ष्मणं शोकवशाभिपन्नं शोके निमग्नो विपुले तु रामः।उवाच वाक्यं व्यसनानुरूपमुष्णं विनिश्श्वस्य रुदंत्सशोकम्।।।।
Plunged in overwhelming grief, Rama—sobbing and heaving burning sighs—spoke to Lakshmana, who too had been seized by sorrow, words befitting that calamity.
Verse 3.63.3
न मद्विधो दुष्कृतकर्मकारी मन्ये द्वितीयोऽस्ति वसुन्धरायाम्।शोकेन शोको हि परम्पराया मा मेति भिन्दन्हृदयं मनश्च।।।।
Surely in the past I repeatedly committed sinful deeds—deeds I even desired; and now their consequence has fallen upon me, for I am entering sorrow upon sorrow.
Verse 3.63.4
पूर्वं मया नूनमभीप्सितानि पापानि कर्माण्यसकृत्कृतानि।तत्रायमद्यापतितो विपाको दुःखेन दुःखं यदहं विशामि।।।।
O Lakshmana, when I dwell upon them—the loss of the kingdom, separation from my own people, my father’s death, and separation from my mother—all of these together only swell the rushing force of my grief.
Verse 3.63.5
राज्यप्रणाशस्स्वजनैर्वियोगः पितुर्विनाशो जननीवियोगः।सर्वाणि मे लक्ष्मण शोकवेगमापूरयन्ति प्रविचिन्तितानि।।।।
But, O Lakshmana, all my earlier sorrow had grown quiet within me when I came into this lonely forest; yet from separation from Sita it has flared up again—like fire suddenly blazing when fed with logs.
Verse 3.63.6
सर्वं तु दुःखं मम लक्ष्मणेदं शान्तं शरीरे वनमेत्य शून्यम्।सीतावियोगात्पुनरप्युदीर्णं काष्ठैरिवाग्निस्सहसा प्रदीप्तः।।।।
Surely my noble lady—timid at heart—was seized by force by a rākṣasa and carried up into the sky; in fear, crying out again and again, she must have lamented aloud, her voice breaking.
Verse 3.63.7
सा नूनमार्या मम राक्षसेन बलाद्दृता खं समुपेत्य भीरुः।अपस्वरं सस्वरविप्रलापा भयेन विक्रन्दितवत्यभीक्ष्णम्।।।।
Those rounded breasts of my beloved—so lovely to behold, and once always anointed with the finest sandal paste—surely do not look beautiful now, smeared with blood and mud.
Verse 3.63.8
तौ लोहितस्य प्रियदर्शनस्य सदोचितावुत्तमचन्दनस्य।वृत्तौ स्तनौ शोणितपङ्कदिग्धौ नूनं प्रियाया मम नाभिभातः।।।।
Her face—framed by a mass of curling hair, and known for its gentle, clear speech—surely does not shine now that she has fallen under the power of rākṣasas, like the moon when caught in Rahu’s mouth.
Verse 3.63.9
तच्छलक्ष्णसुव्यक्तमृदुप्रलापं तस्या मुखं कुञ्चितकेशभारम्।रक्षोवशं नूनमुपागताया न भ्राजते राहुमुखे यथेन्दुः।।।।
Though Saumitri (Lakshmana), a man of lofty valor, spoke thus, Rama—the upholder of the Raghu line—took no comfort from it; letting go of his composure, he was once again overtaken by great sorrow.
Verse 3.63.10
तां हारपाशस्य सदोचिताया ग्रीवां प्रियाया मम सुव्रतायाः।रक्षांसि नूनं परिपीतवन्ति विभिद्य शून्ये रुधिराशनानि।।।।
Surely those blood‑devouring rākṣasas, in some lonely place, have broken the neck of my beloved—so long accustomed to the clasp of necklaces—and drunk her blood.
Verse 3.63.11
मया विहीना विजने वने या रक्षोभिराहृत्य विकृष्यमाणा।नूनं निनादं कुररीव दीना सा मुक्तवत्यायतकान्तनेत्रा।।।।
Separated from me in that lonely forest, abducted and dragged away by rākṣasas, that helpless, large‑eyed Sītā must surely have cried out piteously, like a kurarī‑bird.
Verse 3.63.12
अस्मिन्मयासार्धमुदारशीला शिलातले पूर्वमुपोपविष्टा।कान्तस्मिता लक्ष्मण जातहासा त्वामाह सीता बहुवाक्यजातम्।।।।
On this very rock, O Lakṣmaṇa, Sītā—noble in nature—once sat with me; smiling sweetly, she laughed and spoke many words to you.
Verse 3.63.13
गोदावरीयं सरितां वरिष्ठा प्रिया प्रियाया मम नित्यकालम्।अप्यत्र गच्छेदिति चिन्तयामि नैकाकिनी याति हि सा कदाचित्।।।।
Has she gone to the Godāvarī—foremost of rivers and ever dear to my beloved? Yet I think not, for she never goes anywhere alone.
Verse 3.63.14
पद्मानना पद्मविशालनेत्रा पद्मानि वानेतुमभिप्रयाता।तदप्ययुक्तं न हि सा कदाचिन्मया विना गच्छति पङ्कजानि।।।।
Could that lotus-faced, lotus-eyed lady have gone to gather lotuses? Even that is not fitting, for she never goes for pankaja lotuses without me.
Verse 3.63.15
कामं त्विदं पुष्पितवृक्षषण्डं नानाविधैः पक्षिगणैरुपेतम्।वनं प्रयाता नु तदप्ययुक्त मेकाकिनी सातिबिभेति भीरुः।।।।
Could she have gone into this forest-thicket of flowering trees, alive with flocks of many kinds of birds? Even that is unlikely—she is timid and greatly fears being alone.
Verse 3.63.16
आदित्य भो लोककृताकृतज्ञ लोकस्य सत्यानृतकर्मसाक्षिन्।मम प्रिया सा क्व गता हृता वा शंसस्व मे शोकवशस्य नित्यम्।।।।
O Sun, knower of what is done and not done in the world, witness to people’s true and false deeds—tell me: where has my beloved gone, or has she been carried away? I am ever under the sway of grief.
Verse 3.63.17
लोकेषु सर्वेषु च नास्ति किञ्चिद्यत्ते न नित्यं विदितं भवेत्तत्।शंसस्व वायो कुलशालिनीं तां हृता मृता वा पथि वर्तते वा।।।।
O Wind, in all the worlds there is nothing that is not ever known to you. Tell me of that noble lady—has she been abducted, is she dead, or is she somewhere upon the way?
Verse 3.63.18
इतीव तं शोकविधेयदेहं रामं विसंज्ञं विलपन्तमेवम्।उवाच सौमित्रिरदीनसत्त्वो न्याये स्थितः कालयुतं च वाक्यम्।।।।
As Rama, his body mastered by grief, lamented thus and fell into a swoon, Saumitri (Lakshmana)—steadfast in reason and undaunted in spirit—spoke words fitting to the moment.
Verse 3.63.19
शोकं विमुञ्चार्य धृतिं भजस्व सोत्साहता चास्तु विमार्गणेऽस्याः।उत्साहवन्तो हि नरा न लोके सीदन्ति कर्मस्वतिदुष्करेषु।।।।
Cast off grief and take up firmness; let there be energetic effort in searching for her. For in this world, men of resolve do not sink into despair, even in tasks most difficult.
Verse 3.63.20
इतीव सौमित्रिमुदग्रपौरुषं ब्रुवन्तमार्तो रघुवंशवर्धनः।न चिन्तयामास धृतिं विमुक्तवान्पुनश्च दुःखं महदभ्युपागमत्।।।।
I think there is no second man on earth like me—one who has committed such wrongful deeds—for grief after grief, in unbroken succession, keeps striking me, shattering both my heart and my mind.