The magnificent forest laden with flowers presented a most splendid sight with its swarms of bees humming, greedy for honey. Delightful bulbs and roots and fruit and leaves grew in profusion from the time that Lord came there.

Seeing the hill incomparable in beauty, Rama, the Lord of gods, rested there with his younger brother. Gods, rested there with his younger brother. Gods, adepts and hermits, disguised as bees and birds and beasts, did service to their Lord.

From the time that Rama the lord of Lakshmi took up his abode there, the forest became a picture of felicity. There on a bright and glistening crystal rock the two brothers sat at ease.

Rama related to his younger brother many a tale inculcating devotion, dispassion, statecraft and spiritual wisdom. As the rains had set in, the sky was canopied with clouds, which looked very pleasant with their frequent thunder.

Says Rama- ‘See Lakshmana, how the peacocks dance at the sight of the clouds, just as a householder devoted to dispassion rejoices when he finds a true believer in Vishnu.

The clouds gather and thunder deafeningly in the sky, but my darling is gone and my heart is afraid. The lightning flashes fitfully in the clouds, fickle as a villain’s friendship.

The clouds pour forth their rain, cleaving close to the earth, like the learned stooping beneath accumlated lore. The hills endure the buffeting of the raindrops, even as good men put up with the taunts of the wicked.