षष्टितमः सर्गः — Kausalyā’s Lament and Sumantra’s Consolation (Sītā’s Fearless Forest-Life)
अयोध्याकाण्ड
This sarga stages a grief-driven dialogue in which Queen Kausalyā, physically destabilized and trembling, addresses the charioteer Sumantra and demands immediate conveyance to Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa, declaring she cannot survive separation. Sumantra responds with folded hands and carefully structured reassurance: he urges abandonment of despair, frames Rāma’s forest-life as principled endurance, and depicts Lakṣmaṇa’s service as disciplined dharma that secures spiritual merit. The consolatory core then shifts to Sītā’s comportment: she appears un-dejected, confident in the desolate forest as if at home, playfully inquisitive about villages, rivers, and trees, and emotionally centered on Rāma such that Ayodhyā without him would feel like wilderness. Sumantra’s praise emphasizes Sītā’s un-fading radiance despite travel hardships, her lotus-and-moon imagery, her unadorned yet luminous feet, and her fearless movement under Rāma’s protection even amid wild beasts. The chapter closes by asserting the enduring fame of this conduct and by showing that, despite apt counsel, Kausalyā’s maternal sorrow continues in repeated cries to her beloved son.
Verse 2.60.1
ततो भूतोपसृष्टेव वेपमाना पुनः पुनः।धरण्यां गतसत्त्वेव कौसल्या सूतमब्रवीत्।।।।
Then Kausalyā—trembling again and again, as though seized by a spirit, and as if bereft of her senses upon the ground—spoke to the charioteer (Sumantra).
Verse 2.60.2
नय मां यत्र काकुत्स्थस्सीता यत्र च लक्ष्मणः।तान्विना क्षणमप्यत्र जीवितुं नोत्सहेह्यहम्।।।।
Turn the chariot back at once, and take me too to the Dandaka forest. If I do not follow after them, then I shall go to Yama’s abode—death.
Verse 2.60.3
निवर्तय रथं शीघ्रं दण्डकान्नय मामपि।अथ तान्नानुगच्छामि गमिष्यामि यमक्षयम्।।।।
Dwelling in the forest, even on seeing an elephant, a lion, or a tiger, she feels no fear—having taken refuge in Rāma’s arms.
Verse 2.60.4
बाष्पवेगोपहतया स वाचा सज्जमानया।इदमाश्वासयन्देवीं सूतः प्राञ्जलिरब्रवीत्।।।।
They are not to be pitied—nor are you to be pitied, nor even the king; for this conduct will stand established in the world forever.
Verse 2.60.5
त्यज शोकं च मोहं च सम्भ्रमं दुःखजं तथा।व्यवधूय च सन्तापं वने वत्स्यति राघवः।।।।
Shaking off grief, with hearts made serene, firmly established on the path laid down by great seers, delighting in the forest and living on wild fruits, they are fulfilling their father’s noble vow.
Verse 2.60.6
लक्ष्मणश्चापि रामस्य पादौ परिचरन्वने।आराधयति धर्मज्ञः परलोकं जितेन्द्रियः।।।।
Yet, though restrained by the charioteer who spoke fittingly, the queen—worn down by grief for her son—did not cease her cries: “Beloved!”, “Son!”, and “O Rāghava!”
Verse 2.60.7
विजनेऽपि वने सीता वासं प्राप्य गृहेष्विव।विस्रम्भं लभतेऽभीता रामे सन्न्यस्तमानसा।।।।
Even in the lonely forest, Sītā—having made her dwelling there as though it were her own home—feels secure and unafraid, for her mind rests wholly upon Rāma.
Verse 2.60.8
नास्या दैन्यं कृतं किञ्चित्सुसूक्ष्ममपि लक्ष्यते।उचितेव प्रवासानां वैदेही प्रतिभाति मा।।।।
In her I perceive not even the subtlest trace of dejection; Vaidehī appears to me as though she were already accustomed to life away from home.
Verse 2.60.9
नगरोपवनं गत्वा यथा स्मरमते पुरा।तथैव रमते सीता निर्जनेषु वनेष्वपि।।।।
Just as she once delighted in the city’s pleasure-groves, so too Sītā now takes delight even in these lonely forests.
Verse 2.60.10
बालेव रमते सीताऽबालचन्द्रनिभानना।रामा रामे ह्यधीनात्मा विजनेऽपि वने सती।।।।
Sītā—lovely, with a face like the young moon—keeps her whole mind dependent on Rāma; and though she is in a lonely forest, she delights in it like a child, ever virtuous.
Verse 2.60.11
तद्गतं हृदयं ह्यस्यास्तदधीनं च जीवितम्।अयोध्यापि भवेऽत्तस्या रामहीना तदा वनम्।।।।
For her heart is fixed upon him, and her very life depends upon him; if she were without Rāma, even Ayodhyā would then become a forest to her.
Verse 2.60.12
परिपृच्छति वैदेही ग्रामांश्च नगराणि च।गतिं दृष्ट्वा नदीनां च पादपान्विविधानपि।।।।रामं हि लक्ष्मणं वापि पृष्ट्वा जानाति जानकी।अयोध्या क्रोशमात्रे तु विहारमिव संश्रिता।।।।
Vaidehī, seeing villages and towns, the courses of rivers, and trees of many kinds, keeps asking about them; and after asking either Rāma or Lakṣmaṇa, Jānakī comes to know them—dwelling as though in a pleasure-grove only a krośa away from Ayodhyā.
Verse 2.60.13
परिपृच्छति वैदेही ग्रामांश्च नगराणि च।गतिं दृष्ट्वा नदीनां च पादपान्विविधानपि।।2.60.12।।रामं हि लक्ष्मणं वापि पृष्ट्वा जानाति जानकी।अयोध्या क्रोशमात्रे तु विहारमिव संश्रिता।।2.60.13।।
I remember only this much—that she suddenly uttered some words concerning Kaikeyī; but what they were does not now occur to me.
Verse 2.60.14
इदमेव स्मराम्यस्यास्सहसैवोपजल्पितम्।कैकेयी संश्रितं वाक्यं नेदानीं प्रतिभाति मा।।।।
But, setting aside those words that had slipped out through inadvertence, the charioteer spoke to the queen in gentle, sweet speech, meant to bring her comfort.
Verse 2.60.15
ध्वंसयित्वा तु तद्वाक्यं प्रमादात्पर्युपत्स्थितम्।ह्लादनं वचनं सूतो देव्या मधुरमब्रवीत्।।।।
Vaidehī’s radiance, like moonbeams, does not diminish—neither from the road’s fatigue, nor the wind’s swiftness, nor the haste of travel, nor even the sun’s heat.
Verse 2.60.16
अध्वना वातवेगेन सम्भ्रमेणाऽऽतपेन च।न विगच्छति वैदेह्याश्चन्द्रांशु सदृशी प्रभा।।।।
Vaidehī’s face, of that gracious lady, shines like the full moon and resembles a hundred-petalled lotus; it neither wavers nor withers.
Verse 2.60.17
सदृशं शतपत्रस्य पूर्णचन्द्रोपमप्रभम्।वदनं तद्वदान्याया वैदेह्या न विकम्पते।।।।
Even now her feet—though no longer stained with red lac—still seem as if reddened with lac, shining like lotus buds.
Verse 2.60.18
अलक्तरसरक्ताभावलक्तरसवर्जितौ।अद्यापि चरणौ तस्याः पद्मकोशसमप्रभौ।।।।
Though no longer tinted with lac-red, her feet still seem as if reddened, shining with the radiance of lotus-buds.
Verse 2.60.19
नूपुरोद्घुष्टहेलेव खेलं गच्छति भामिनी।इदानीमपि वैदेही तद्रागान्नयस्त भूषणा।।।।
Take me to wherever Rāma of the Kakutsthas is—where Sītā is, and where Lakṣmaṇa is. Without them, I do not wish to live here even for a single moment.
Verse 2.60.20
गजं वा वीक्ष्य सिंहं वा व्याघ्रं वा वनमाश्रिता।नाऽहारयति सन्त्रासं बाहू रामस्य संश्रिता।।।।
Then the charioteer, with palms joined, spoke to console the queen; his words faltered, choked by the rush of tears.
Verse 2.60.21
न शोच्यास्ते न चात्मनश्शोच्यो नापि जनाधिपः।इदं हि चरितं लोके प्रतिष्ठास्यति शाश्वतम्।।।।
Give up grief, delusion, and the turmoil born of sorrow; cast off your anguish. Raghava will dwell in the forest, brushing aside hardships.
Verse 2.60.22
विधूय शोकं परिहृष्टमानसा महर्षियाते पथि सुव्यवत्स्थिताः।वनेरता वन्यफलाशनाः पितुश्शुभां प्रतिज्ञां परिपालयन्ति ते।।।।
And Lakshmana too—self-controlled and knowing dharma—serves at Rama’s feet in the forest, thereby gaining spiritual merit for the world beyond.
Verse 2.60.23
तथापि सूतेन सुयुक्तवादिना निवार्यमाणा सुतशोककर्शिता।न चैव देवी विरराम कूजितात्प्रियेति पुत्रेति च राघवेति च।।।।
Even now Vaidehi—having set aside her ornaments out of love for him—walks with gentle grace, as though in playful dalliance, while her anklets softly proclaim each step.