Raghu-bir, the ocean of compassion, after churning the depths of Bharat’s soul with the Mount Meru of bereavement, brought out from it the nectar of love.
The two noble brothers and their guide were not visible to Lakshman by reason of the dense shade of the forest; but Bharat could see his lord’s sacred hermitage, the charming home of everything delightful. As he entered it his burning grief was assuaged, as when an ascetic is rewarded with salvation. He saw before him Lakshman affectionately conversing with his lord, his hair fastened in a knot, a hermit’s robe girt about his loins, his quiver slung, arrows in his hand, and his bow on his shoulder. By the altar an assembly of saints and sages, among whom Sita and Rama were conspicuous in hermit’s attire, with matted hair and body darkened by exposure; like Rati and Kamadeva in saint’s disguise. He, who with one smiling glance can dispel every anguish of soul, had bow and arrows ready in his lotus hands.
In the midst of the circle of saints, Sita and Rama shone forth as fair as Faith and the Supreme Spirit incarnate in the council chamber of Wisdom.
He, his brother and their guide were so absorbed that joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain were all forgotten. Crying, “Mercy, mercy, O lord and master!” he fell flat on the ground like a log. Lakshman recognized his loving cry and made obeisance, knowing that it must be Bharat. On the one hand he was moved by brotherly affection, but on the other was the stronger claim of obedience to his lord. Unable to embrace him and yet loth to refrain; what poet could describe Lakshman’s state of mind? Though obedience was the weightier, and therefore he stayed, he was like a child pulling against a kite high in the air. Bowing his head to the ground, he said affectionately: “It is Bharat, O Raghunath, who greets you.” On hearing this, Rama started up in loving agitation, his robe flying in one direction and his quiver and bow and arrows in another.
The two noble brothers and their guide were not visible to Lakshman by reason of the dense shade of the forest; but Bharat could see his lord’s sacred hermitage, the charming home of everything delightful. As he entered it his burning grief was assuaged, as when an ascetic is rewarded with salvation. He saw before him Lakshman affectionately conversing with his lord, his hair fastened in a knot, a hermit’s robe girt about his loins, his quiver slung, arrows in his hand, and his bow on his shoulder. By the altar an assembly of saints and sages, among whom Sita and Rama were conspicuous in hermit’s attire, with matted hair and body darkened by exposure; like Rati and Kamadeva in saint’s disguise. He, who with one smiling glance can dispel every anguish of soul, had bow and arrows ready in his lotus hands.
In the midst of the circle of saints, Sita and Rama shone forth as fair as Faith and the Supreme Spirit incarnate in the council chamber of Wisdom.
He, his brother and their guide were so absorbed that joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain were all forgotten. Crying, “Mercy, mercy, O lord and master!” he fell flat on the ground like a log. Lakshman recognized his loving cry and made obeisance, knowing that it must be Bharat. On the one hand he was moved by brotherly affection, but on the other was the stronger claim of obedience to his lord. Unable to embrace him and yet loth to refrain; what poet could describe Lakshman’s state of mind? Though obedience was the weightier, and therefore he stayed, he was like a child pulling against a kite high in the air. Bowing his head to the ground, he said affectionately: “It is Bharat, O Raghunath, who greets you.” On hearing this, Rama started up in loving agitation, his robe flying in one direction and his quiver and bow and arrows in another.
Whether he would or no, the All-compassionate took and raised him up and clasped him to his bosom. Those who witnessed the meeting of Bharat and Rama lost all self-consciousness.
How can such an affectionate meeting be described? Their thoughts, words and actions were beyond any poet. Both brothers were filled with the utmost love; self, reason, knowledge and understanding were all forgotten. Tell me who can portray such perfect love? By what shadow can the poet’s mind attain to it? If the poet has a model, he can work out his meaning by the force of words, and players dance when they have an accompaniment; but the love of Rama and Bharat is unapproachable, beyond the conception even of Brahma, Vishnu and Siva; how then can I describe it? If an instrument is only strung with grass, can it make sweet music? When the gods saw the meeting of Bharat and Raghubar they were alarmed and trembled all over; but when Brihaspati had spoken to them, they awoke from their folly and rained down flowers and applauded.
After affectionately embracing Satrughna, Rama greeted the pilot; and then Lakshman too as a brother courteously greeted Bharat.
When he had fondly embraced his younger brother, Lakshman next took the Nishad to his bosom. Then the two brothers, Bharat and Satrughna, after reverencing all the saints and joyfully receiving from them the desired blessing in a rapture of love, placed on their head the dust of Sita’s lotus feet. As they again and again prostrated themselves, she raised them up, and with a touch of her lotus hands motioned them to be seated, in her heart invoking a blessing upon them, and so absorbed in affection as to lose all self-consciousness. When he saw Sita so thoroughly propitious, he became free from anxiety and all fear passed away. No one made any remark nor asked any question; the soul was so full of love that it ceased to act. Then the pilot took courage and, bowing with clasped hands, made humble petition:
How can such an affectionate meeting be described? Their thoughts, words and actions were beyond any poet. Both brothers were filled with the utmost love; self, reason, knowledge and understanding were all forgotten. Tell me who can portray such perfect love? By what shadow can the poet’s mind attain to it? If the poet has a model, he can work out his meaning by the force of words, and players dance when they have an accompaniment; but the love of Rama and Bharat is unapproachable, beyond the conception even of Brahma, Vishnu and Siva; how then can I describe it? If an instrument is only strung with grass, can it make sweet music? When the gods saw the meeting of Bharat and Raghubar they were alarmed and trembled all over; but when Brihaspati had spoken to them, they awoke from their folly and rained down flowers and applauded.
After affectionately embracing Satrughna, Rama greeted the pilot; and then Lakshman too as a brother courteously greeted Bharat.
When he had fondly embraced his younger brother, Lakshman next took the Nishad to his bosom. Then the two brothers, Bharat and Satrughna, after reverencing all the saints and joyfully receiving from them the desired blessing in a rapture of love, placed on their head the dust of Sita’s lotus feet. As they again and again prostrated themselves, she raised them up, and with a touch of her lotus hands motioned them to be seated, in her heart invoking a blessing upon them, and so absorbed in affection as to lose all self-consciousness. When he saw Sita so thoroughly propitious, he became free from anxiety and all fear passed away. No one made any remark nor asked any question; the soul was so full of love that it ceased to act. Then the pilot took courage and, bowing with clasped hands, made humble petition: