# Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa 17 — Kausalyā learns of Rāma’s exile *Rāma tells Kausalyā that Bharata will inherit and he must leave, she collapses and laments their separation* Portion: Kausalyā’s grief and Lakṣmaṇa’s resistance · Verses: 33 · Ref format: 2.17. ## Sequence - Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa enter Kausalyā's apartments, where she has been praying and making offerings for his welfare (17.1–9) - she welcomes him with blessings, still expecting his abhiṣeka that day (17.10–12) - he tells her that Bharata will be heir and that he himself must live for fourteen years in Daṇḍaka; he says he will give up meat and live like a muni on honey, roots, and fruit (17.13–16) - she faints; Rāma raises and comforts her (17.17–19) - she explains that she had endured neglect as a wife by hoping for happiness through her son, but now fears humiliation and isolation among her co-wives (17.20–25) - she says seventeen years have passed since his birth, spent hoping for an end to her sorrow (17.26) - she laments that her fasting, gifts, and prayers have brought no relief and wishes she could die rather than lose him (17.27–33). ## Verses **2.17.1** rāmas tu bhṛśam āyasto niḥśvasann iva kuñjaraḥ jagāma sahito bhrātrā mātur antaḥpuraṃ vaśī But Rāma, deeply distressed, sighing like an elephant, self-controlled, went with his brother to his mother's apartments. **2.17.2** so 'paśyat puruṣaṃ tatra vṛddhaṃ paramapūjitam upaviṣṭaṃ gṛhadvāri tiṣṭhataś cāparān bahūn There he saw an aged, highly honoured man seated at the house-door, and many others standing about. **2.17.3** praviśya prathamāṃ kakṣyāṃ dvitīyāyāṃ dadarśa saḥ brāhmaṇān vedasaṃpannān vṛddhān rājñābhisatkṛtān Passing through the first courtyard, in the second he saw brahmins versed in the Vedas, aged, honoured by the king. **2.17.4** praṇamya rāmas tān vṛddhāṃs tṛtīyāyāṃ dadarśa saḥ striyo vṛddhāś ca bālāś ca dvārarakṣaṇatatparāḥ Having bowed to those elders, Rāma in the third courtyard saw women, old and young, intent on guarding the door. **2.17.5** vardhayitvā prahṛṣṭās tāḥ praviśya ca gṛhaṃ striyaḥ nyavedayanta tvaritā rāma mātuḥ priyaṃ tadā Those women, delighted, hailing him with blessings, hurried in, entered the house, and quickly announced the glad news to Rāma's mother. **2.17.6** kausalyāpi tadā devī rātriṃ sthitvā samāhitā prabhāte tv akarot pūjāṃ viṣṇoḥ putrahitaiṣiṇī Queen Kausalyā too, having spent the night in concentration, at dawn performed the worship of Viṣṇu, desiring her son's welfare. **2.17.7** sā kṣaumavasanā hṛṣṭā nityaṃ vrataparāyaṇā agniṃ juhoti sma tadā mantravat kṛtamaṅgalā Clad in linen, joyful, ever devoted to her vows, having performed the auspicious rites, she was then offering oblations to the fire with mantras. **2.17.8** praviśya ca tadā rāmo mātur antaḥpuraṃ śubham dadarśa mātaraṃ tatra hāvayantīṃ hutāśanam Entering then his mother's fair apartments, Rāma saw his mother there making the fire-offering. **2.17.9** sā cirasyātmajaṃ dṛṣṭvā mātṛnandanam āgatam abhicakrāma saṃhṛṣṭā kiśoraṃ vaḍavā yathā Seeing after so long her son come — the delight of his mother — she rushed forward, overjoyed, as a mare toward her colt. **2.17.10** tam uvāca durādharṣaṃ rāghavaṃ sutam ātmanaḥ kausalyā putravātsalyād idaṃ priyahitaṃ vacaḥ To that unassailable Rāghava, her own son, Kausalyā, out of maternal love, spoke these kind and salutary words: **2.17.11** vṛddhānāṃ dharmaśīlānāṃ rājarṣīṇāṃ mahātmanām prāpnuhy āyuś ca kīrtiṃ ca dharmaṃ copahitaṃ kule May you attain the long life, the fame, and the dharma laid up in the family of the aged, righteous, great-souled royal seers. **2.17.12** satyapratijñaṃ pitaraṃ rājānaṃ paśya rāghava adyaiva hi tvāṃ dharmātmā yauvarājye 'bhiṣekṣyati Behold your father the king, true to his promise, O Rāghava; for this very day the righteous one will consecrate you to the heir-apparency. **2.17.13** mātaraṃ rāghavaḥ kiṃ cit prasāryāñjalim abravīt sa svabhāvavinītaś ca gauravāc ca tadānataḥ Rāghava, extending his joined hands a little, spoke to his mother; naturally modest, and bowed then out of reverence, he said: **2.17.14** devi nūnaṃ na jānīṣe mahad bhayam upasthitam idaṃ tava ca duḥkhāya vaidehyā lakṣmaṇasya ca O queen, surely you do not know that a great danger has arisen; this will bring sorrow to you, and to Vaidehī, and to Lakṣmaṇa. **2.17.15** caturdaśa hi varṣāṇi vatsyāmi vijane vane madhumūlaphalair jīvan hitvā munivad āmiṣam For fourteen years I shall dwell in a lonely forest, living on honey, roots, and fruits, giving up meat like a sage. **2.17.16** bharatāya mahārājo yauvarājyaṃ prayacchati māṃ punar daṇḍakāraṇyaṃ vivāsayati tāpasaṃ The great king gives the heir-apparency to Bharata, and banishes me, as an ascetic, to the Daṇḍaka forest. **2.17.17** tām aduḥkhocitāṃ dṛṣṭvā patitāṃ kadalīm iva rāmas tūtthāpayām āsa mātaraṃ gatacetasaṃ Seeing her, unused to sorrow, fallen like a plantain tree and swooning, Rāma raised his mother up. **2.17.18** upāvṛtyotthitāṃ dīnāṃ vaḍavām iva vāhitām pāṃśuguṇṭhitasarvāgnīṃ vimamarśa ca pāṇinā Turning to her as she rose, wretched, like an overworked mare, her whole body covered with dust, he stroked her with his hand. **2.17.19** sā rāghavam upāsīnam asukhārtā sukhocitā uvāca puruṣavyāghram upaśṛṇvati lakṣmaṇe She, afflicted with grief though accustomed to comfort, spoke to that tiger among men, Rāghava, seated near, while Lakṣmaṇa listened. **2.17.20** yadi putra na jāyethā mama śokāya rāghava na sma duḥkham ato bhūyaḥ paśyeyam aham aprajā If, my son Rāghava, you had not been born to my sorrow, I, though childless, would not have seen a grief greater than this. **2.17.21** eka eva hi vandhyāyāḥ śoko bhavati mānavaḥ aprajāsmīti saṃtāpo na hy anyaḥ putra vidyate For a barren woman there is but one human grief — the anguish, 'I am childless'; no other, my son, exists. **2.17.22** na dṛṣṭapūrvaṃ kalyāṇaṃ sukhaṃ vā patipauruṣe api putre vipaśyeyam iti rāmāsthitaṃ mayā I had never before seen any welfare or happiness in my husband's manly power; 'yet in my son I might see it' — so, O Rāma, I had trusted. **2.17.23** sā bahūny amanojñāni vākyāni hṛdayacchidām ahaṃ śroṣye sapatnīnām avarāṇāṃ varā satī ato duḥkhataraṃ kiṃ nu pramadānāṃ bhaviṣyati I, though the foremost of the queens, shall now hear many unpleasant, heart-piercing words from co-wives who are my inferiors; what greater sorrow than this can there be for women? **2.17.24** tvayi saṃnihite 'py evam aham āsaṃ nirākṛtā kiṃ punaḥ proṣite tāta dhruvaṃ maraṇam eva me Even while you were near, I was thus slighted; how much more when you are gone away, my child? Surely death alone awaits me. **2.17.25** yo hi māṃ sevate kaś cid atha vāpy anuvartate kaikeyyāḥ putram anvīkṣya sa jano nābhibhāṣate For whoever attends on me, or even shows me deference, that person, having regard for Kaikeyī's son, does not so much as speak to me. **2.17.26** daśa sapta ca varṣāṇi tava jātasya rāghava atītāni prakāṅkṣantyā mayā duḥkhaparikṣayam Seventeen years have passed since your birth, O Rāghava, as I longed for an end to my sorrow. **2.17.27** upavāsaiś ca yogaiś ca bahubhiś ca pariśramaiḥ duḥkhaṃ saṃvardhito moghaṃ tvaṃ hi durgatayā mayā For with fasts and disciplines and many toils, painfully and in vain, were you reared by me, ill-fated as I am. **2.17.28** sthiraṃ tu hṛdayaṃ manye mamedaṃ yan na dīryate prāvṛṣīva mahānadyāḥ spṛṣṭaṃ kūlaṃ navāmbhasā I think this heart of mine must be hard, since it does not burst — like the bank of a great river in the rains touched by fresh waters. **2.17.29** mamaiva nūnaṃ maraṇaṃ na vidyate na cāvakāśo 'sti yamakṣaye mama yad antako 'dyaiva na māṃ jihīrṣati prasahya siṃho rudatīṃ mṛgīm iva Surely for me alone there is no death, nor is there any place for me in Yama's realm, since Death does not this very day carry me off by force, as a lion drags off a wailing doe. **2.17.30** sthiraṃ hi nūnaṃ hṛdayaṃ mamāyasaṃ na bhidyate yad bhuvi nāvadīryate anena duḥkhena ca deham arpitaṃ dhruvaṃ hy akāle maraṇaṃ na vidyate Surely my heart must be firm, made of iron, since it does not break nor fall shattered to the ground; and though my body is given over to this grief, surely there is no dying before one's time. **2.17.31** idaṃ tu duḥkhaṃ yad anarthakāni me vratāni dānāni ca saṃyamāś ca hi tapaś ca taptaṃ yad apatyakāraṇāt suniṣphalaṃ bījam ivoptam ūṣare But this is my grief: that my vows, my gifts, and my restraints have been fruitless, and that the austerity I performed for the sake of offspring is utterly barren, like seed sown in salt soil. **2.17.32** yadi hy akāle maraṇaṃ svayecchayā labheta kaś cid guru duḥkha karśitaḥ gatāham adyaiva pareta saṃsadaṃ vinā tvayā dhenur ivātmajena vai If anyone worn down by heavy sorrow could obtain death untimely at their own will, then this very day, bereft of you as a cow of her calf, I would have gone to the assembly of the dead. **2.17.33** bhṛśam asukham amarṣitā tadā bahu vilalāpa samīkṣya rāghavam vyasanam upaniśāmya sā mahat sutam iva baddham avekṣya kiṃnarī Then, deeply pained and grief-stricken, gazing upon Rāghava and perceiving the great calamity, she lamented long — like a kiṃnarī looking upon her captured son.