# Araṇya Kāṇḍa 58 — Rāma searches for Sītā *He finds the hut disordered, questions trees and animals and imagines her yellow clothing among the woods* Portion: The empty hut and the search for Sītā · Verses: 35 · Ref format: 3.58. ## Sequence - Resuming the arrival at the hut, the account describes Rāma's anxious haste and the omens that trouble him (58.1–3) - he searches in every direction and finds the hut deserted, its deerskins, grass, mat, and cushions scattered (58.4–7) - he moves between frightening and hopeful possibilities: Sītā may have been taken or killed, but perhaps she is hiding, gathering food or flowers, or fetching water (58.8–9) - failing to find her, he runs among trees, mountains, and rivers (58.10–11) - he asks the trees she loved and the deer, elephant, and tiger whether they have seen her (58.12–22) - in his distress he imagines that he sees her yellow clothing behind a tree and calls on her to stop hiding (58.23–25) - when she does not answer, he fears again that rākṣasas have killed and eaten her (58.26–31) - crying her name, he continues through woods, streams, hills, and groves, refusing to stop searching despite finding no sign of her (58.32–35). ## Verses **3.58.1** bhṛśam āvrajamānasya tasyādhovāmalocanam prāsphurac cāskhalad rāmo vepathuś cāsya jāyate As he came hurrying on, the lower left eye of Rāma throbbed and twitched, and a trembling came over him. **3.58.2** upālakṣya nimittāni so 'śubhāni muhur muhuḥ api kṣemaṃ tu sītāyā iti vai vyājahāra ha Observing these inauspicious omens again and again, he said, 'Is it well, indeed, with Sītā?' **3.58.3** tvaramāṇo jagāmātha sītādarśanalālasaḥ śūnyam āvasathaṃ dṛṣṭvā babhūvodvignamānasaḥ Hastening, longing to behold Sītā, he pressed on; but seeing the dwelling empty, his mind grew distraught. **3.58.4** udbhramann iva vegena vikṣipan raghunandanaḥ tatra tatroṭajasthānam abhivīkṣya samantataḥ Whirling about as if in frenzy, casting his gaze this way and that, Raghu's delight looked around the site of the hut on every side. **3.58.5** dadarśa parṇaśālāṃ ca rahitāṃ sītayā tadā śriyā virahitāṃ dhvastāṃ hemante padminīm iva Then he beheld the leaf-hut bereft of Sītā, robbed of its beauty and ravaged, like a lotus-pond in winter. **3.58.6** rudantam iva vṛkṣaiś ca mlānapuṣpamṛgadvijam śriyā vihīnaṃ vidhvastaṃ saṃtyaktavanadaivatam (the place) as if weeping through its trees, its flowers withered and its beasts and birds drooping, stripped of splendour, shattered, forsaken by the forest deities; **3.58.7** viprakīrṇājinakuśaṃ vipraviddhabṛsīkaṭam dṛṣṭvā śūnyoṭajasthānaṃ vilalāpa punaḥ punaḥ seeing the hut-site deserted, its deer-skins and kuśa grass scattered, its grass-cushion and mat flung about, he lamented again and again. **3.58.8** hṛtā mṛtā vā naṣṭā vā bhakṣitā vā bhaviṣyati nilīnāpy atha vā bhīrur atha vā vanam āśritā She has been carried off, or has died, or is lost, or perhaps devoured; or else the timid one has hidden herself, or gone into the forest. **3.58.9** gatā vicetuṃ puṣpāṇi phalāny api ca vā punaḥ atha vā padminīṃ yātā jalārthaṃ vā nadīṃ gatā Or perhaps she has gone again to gather flowers or fruits, or has gone to the lotus-pond, or to the river for water. **3.58.10** yatnān mṛgayamāṇas tu nāsasāda vane priyām śokaraktekṣaṇaḥ śokād unmatta iva lakṣyate But though he searched with effort, he did not find his beloved in the forest; his eyes red with grief, he seemed as if maddened by sorrow. **3.58.11** vṛkṣād vṛkṣaṃ pradhāvan sa girīṃś cāpi nadīn nadīm babhūva vilapan rāmaḥ śokapaṅkārṇavaplutaḥ Running from tree to tree, and over the mountains, and from river to river, Rāma fell to lamenting, sunk in a slough-ocean of grief. **3.58.12** asti kaccit tvayā dṛṣṭā sā kadambapriyā priyā kadamba yadi jānīṣe śaṃsa sītāṃ śubhānanām Has my beloved, who loved the kadamba, perhaps been seen by you? O kadamba, if you know, tell me of Sītā of the lovely face. **3.58.13** snigdhapallavasaṃkāśāṃ pītakauśeyavāsinīm śaṃsasva yadi vā dṛṣṭā bilva bilvopamastanī O bilva, if she—like a glossy tender shoot, clad in yellow silk, her breasts like bilva-fruits—has been seen by you, tell me. **3.58.14** atha vārjuna śaṃsa tvaṃ priyāṃ tām arjunapriyām janakasya sutā bhīrur yadi jīvati vā na vā Or else, O arjuna, tell me of that beloved who loved the arjuna—whether Janaka's timid daughter yet lives or not. **3.58.15** kakubhaḥ kakubhoruṃ tāṃ vyaktaṃ jānāti maithilīm latāpallavapuṣpāḍhyo bhāti hy eṣa vanaspatiḥ The kakubha surely knows the Maithilī, whose thighs are like the kakubha; for this lord of the woods stands radiant, rich with creepers, shoots and blossoms. **3.58.16** bhramarair upagītaś ca yathā drumavaro hy ayam eṣa vyaktaṃ vijānāti tilakas tilakapriyām And just as this best of trees is hummed over by bees, so surely this tilaka knows her who loved the tilaka. **3.58.17** aśokaśokāpanuda śokopahatacetasaṃ tvannāmānaṃ kuru kṣipraṃ priyāsaṃdarśanena mām O aśoka, dispeller of sorrow, quickly make me—whose mind is stricken with grief—true to your name by the sight of my beloved. **3.58.18** yadi tāla tvayā dṛṣṭā pakvatālaphalastanī kathayasva varārohāṃ kāruṣyaṃ yadi te mayi O palm, if you have seen her whose breasts are like ripe palm-fruits, tell me of that fair-hipped one, if you have any compassion for me. **3.58.19** yadi dṛṣṭā tvayā sītā jambujāmbūnadaprabhā priyāṃ yadi vijānīṣe niḥśaṅkaṃ kathayasva me O jambu, if Sītā, radiant as gold, has been seen by you—if you know my beloved—tell me without hesitation. **3.58.20** atha vā mṛgaśāvākṣīṃ mṛga jānāsi maithilīm mṛgaviprekṣaṇī kāntā mṛgībhiḥ sahitā bhavet Or else, O deer, do you know the fawn-eyed Maithilī? My love, of fawn-like gaze, might well be among the does. **3.58.21** gaja sā gajanāsorur yadi dṛṣṭā tvayā bhavet tāṃ manye viditāṃ tubhyam ākhyāhi varavāraṇa O elephant, if she whose thighs are like an elephant's trunk has been seen by you—I think she must be known to you—tell me, O best of elephants. **3.58.22** śārdūla yadi sā dṛṣṭā priyā candranibhānanā maithilī mama visrabdhaḥ kathayasva na te bhayam O tiger, if my beloved Maithilī, her face like the moon, has been seen by you, tell me with confidence—you have nothing to fear. **3.58.23** kiṃ dhāvasi priye nūnaṃ dṛṣṭāsi kamalekṣaṇe vṛkṣeṇācchādya cātmānaṃ kiṃ māṃ na pratibhāṣase Why do you flee, beloved? Surely I have seen you, O lotus-eyed one! Hiding yourself behind a tree, why do you not answer me? **3.58.24** tiṣṭha tiṣṭha varārohe na te 'sti karuṇā mayi nātyarthaṃ hāsyaśīlāsi kimarthaṃ mām upekṣase Stay, stay, O fair-hipped one! Have you no pity for me? You were never one so given to jesting—why do you neglect me? **3.58.25** pītakauśeyakenāsi sūcitā varavarṇini dhāvanty api mayā dṛṣṭā tiṣṭha yady asti sauhṛdam You are betrayed by your yellow silk, O lovely-hued one; even as you flee you are seen by me. Stop, if you have any affection. **3.58.26** naiva sā nūnam atha vā hiṃsitā cāruhāsinī kṛcchraṃ prāptaṃ hi māṃ nūnaṃ yathopekṣitum arhati Surely she is not here—or else the sweet-smiling one has been slain; for otherwise she would never so neglect me who am fallen into such distress. **3.58.27** vyaktaṃ sā bhakṣitā bālā rākṣasaiḥ piśitāśanaiḥ vibhajyāṅgāni sarvāṇi mayā virahitā priyā Clearly the young girl has been devoured by the flesh-eating rākṣasas, who tore apart all her limbs—my beloved, now torn from me. **3.58.28** nūnaṃ tac chubhadantauṣṭhaṃ mukhaṃ niṣprabhatāṃ gatam sā hi campakavarṇābhā grīvā graiveya śobhitā Surely that face, with its fair teeth and lips, has lost its lustre; that neck, glowing like the campaka blossom, once graced with a necklace— **3.58.29** komalā vilapantyās tu kāntāyā bhakṣitā śubhā nūnaṃ vikṣipyamāṇau tau bāhū pallavakomalau the tender, fair neck of my lamenting beloved has been devoured; and surely those two arms, soft as tender shoots, flung about— **3.58.30** bhakṣitau vepamānāgrau sahastābharaṇāṅgadau mayā virahitā bālā rakṣasāṃ bhakṣaṇāya vai those two arms, their tips still quivering, with their bracelets and armlets, have been devoured—the young girl, parted from me, given over to be the rākṣasas' meal. **3.58.31** sārtheneva parityaktā bhakṣitā bahubāndhavā hā lakṣmaṇa mahābāho paśyasi tvaṃ priyāṃ kva cit Like one abandoned by her caravan, she of many kinsmen has been forsaken and devoured. Alas, mighty-armed Lakṣmaṇa, do you see my beloved anywhere? **3.58.32** hā priye kva gatā bhadre hā sīteti punaḥ punaḥ ity evaṃ vilapan rāmaḥ paridhāvan vanād vanam 'Alas, my love, where have you gone, gentle one? Alas, Sītā!'—thus, again and again, lamenting, Rāma ran from wood to wood. **3.58.33** kva cid udbhramate vegāt kva cid vibhramate balāt kva cin matta ivābhāti kāntān veṣaṇatatparaḥ Now he whirls up with speed, now he reels as though by force, now he seems like one drunk—bent wholly on the search for his beloved. **3.58.34** sa vanāni nadīḥ śailān giriprasravaṇāni ca kānanāni ca vegena bhramaty aparisaṃsthitaḥ Restless and never halting, he roamed swiftly over forests, rivers, mountains, mountain-cascades and groves. **3.58.35** tathā sa gatvā vipulaṃ mahad vanaṃ parītya sarvaṃ tv atha maithilīṃ prati aniṣṭhitāśaḥ sa cakāra mārgaṇe punaḥ priyāyāḥ paramaṃ pariśramam So, having ranged that vast great forest and roamed it all in search of the Maithilī, his hopes still unfulfilled, he yet again exerted himself to the utmost in seeking his beloved.