Ramarajya, The Ideal Embodied in Valmiki Ramayana ..... SIMPLIFIED AND FAITHFUL RENDERING OF THE ADI KAVYA-4: Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 HAPPY NEW YEAR

Ramarajya, The Ideal Embodied 

in Valmiki Ramayana

SIMPLIFIED AND FAITHFUL

RENDERING OF THE ADI KAVYA-4

(Exploring Rama’s Virtues, 

Valmiki’s Vision, Narada’s Dialogue,

Divine Structure of the Epic, and Meaning of Ramarajya)

By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

The story of Sri Rama is not simply a chapter of the past. It is the eternal pulse of Indian Civilization in its entirety. Every time humanity forgets the path of righteousness, Rama’s life reappears as a moral compass, quietly reminding us of what it means to live with balance, humility, and truth. This section, continuing from the preceding introduction, seeks to bring forth the spiritual architecture of Ramarajya as revealed by Sage Valmiki through the dialogue between Narada and Valmiki. It reveals how divinity manifests through human virtue, how poetry becomes philosophy, and how leadership transforms into service.

For the children of Non-Resident Indians and English-Speaking readers across the world, this rendering aims not merely to retell but to rekindle, to make Rama a living ideal in every heart that still seeks harmony amid noise, faith amid confusion, and duty amid indulgence. May these pages help readers understand that Ramarajya is not a mythological kingdom, but it is a state of consciousness, attainable wherever goodness governs life.

For Sri Rama, the well-being of those who lived around him and depended upon him was always more important than his own comfort. Only after ensuring others’ happiness did, he look to his own needs. He was the first and finest example of humanism in action, fulfilling his duties sincerely before advising anyone else. If one were to claim that a poet who failed to write about such a Great Personification of Humanity, God in Human Form, hardly deserved to live, it might sound like exaggeration, but it is certainly not.

Even when some actions of Rama invited criticism, he never wavered or feared reproach. Those who criticized him ultimately recognized their error, but Rama never abandoned Dharma. Thus, anyone aspiring to live as a true human being has always found in Sri Rama an inescapable ideal. In today’s world, where self-interest often overshadows duty, Rama’s life reminds everyone that, true greatness begins with selfless service and unwavering responsibility.

The Bhagavad Gita, Sri Vishnu Sahasra Nama Stotra, and Sri Ramayana together form the pillars of Indian Spiritual Vedic Culture and Sanatana Dharma. Their foundations rest upon the twin principles of Dharma and Jnana (Righteousness and Wisdom). The Valmiki Ramayana expresses both through its literal and symbolic meanings, namely, the Vachya and Vyanga. Valmiki, the first ever poet (Adikavi) in the literary history, composed the First Great Poem (Adi Kavya), a sacred symphony resonating with divine sound (Dhvani) and meaning. It is imbued with the spiritual potency of Gayatri Mantra and the philosophical essence of the Upanishads. Merely reading or listening to it purifies the inner consciousness.

Among all Sanskrit works, Valmiki Ramayana shines supreme, because its Female Protagonist (The Heroine) is none other than Goddess Sita herself, and its Leading Male Role is Lord Vishnu incarnate as Sri Ramachandra. Even in translation, its rhythm speaks directly to the heart, Uniting Intellect and Devotion, East and West, Past and Present. The supreme truth of the Valmiki Ramayana reveals that Sri Ramachandra Murti was none other than Lord Vishnu incarnate, who descended upon earth to establish righteousness. The Ramayana must be read as divine truth, not as mere mythology.

What Valmiki wrote were not imaginations but realities witnessed in spiritual vision. Other Ramayanas composed later in various languages reflect sectarian or philosophical leanings, but that of Valmiki is universal, in which the life of a Mahapurusha or Maryada Purushottama, an epithet for Lord Rama, meaning ‘the best among honorable men’ or ‘the supreme man,’ a perfect being whose humanity concealed divinity has been depicted well. To modern minds that seek reason in faith, Valmiki Ramayana offers a bridge, it harmonizes history, philosophy, and poetry into one living truth.

Those who read or listen to the Valmiki Ramayana with devotion are freed from all sins and attain Moksha (Liberation). It is not merely a scripture, it is the Veda itself, teaching the very essence of Vedic wisdom. One need not renounce the world to benefit from it; its grace blesses householders too, granting long life, prosperity, family happiness, and finally spiritual fulfillment. Listening or reciting even portions of this sacred text bestows the same merit as studying the Vedas and Vedangas. In an age when life rushes without pause, reading Valmiki Ramayana even for few minutes daily can restore inner harmony and spiritual rhythm.

Valmiki, before composing the Ramayana, was tormented by the thought that he lacked a Guru (Teacher) capable of revealing the ultimate divine truth. When the sage Narada visited his hermitage, Valmiki prostrated and asked: ‘Is there on this earth a person who is virtuous, powerful, wise in Dharma, grateful, truthful, capable, steadfast, righteous, desirous of doing good to all beings, learned, pleasant in appearance, self-controlled, radiant, free from envy, controls his anger, and able to subdue gods and demons in battle?’

Thus, Valmiki asked sixteen questions, a number sacred in itself, corresponding to the Shodasha Kalas (Sixteen Perfections) of the full moon. When we seek role models today, these sixteen questions should echo within us that, are we searching for wealth or worth, or fame or virtue? Sixteen Questions asked by Valmiki represent the completeness of divine virtue, and there is none other than Sri Rama who answers to each one of them. Hence Rama is called Purna Avatara, the Complete Incarnation. These questions were not mere curiosity; Valmiki asked them to strengthen his conviction and to understand divinity through the example of human perfection.

Both the questioner Valmiki, and the responder Narada, were seers immersed in Brahma Jnana. Their dialogue teaches that spiritual inquiry must begin with moral curiosity, the courage to ask, ‘Who truly embodies goodness in this world?  If Valmiki’s questions were about God, why did he ask not about the nature of the Divine, whether He is Saguna or Nirguna, Sakara, or Nirakara, but about virtues? Because Valmiki sought God in conduct, not in concept. For him, divinity was not an abstraction but a way of life. Narada understood this quest and answered accordingly, describing not metaphysical attributes but the living embodiment of God in Sri Rama. In modern times, when spirituality often gets trapped in theory, Valmiki reminds that the truest faith is practiced, not proclaimed.

Narada described Rama as supremely powerful yet devoid of arrogance, radiant yet serene, master of his senses, full of bliss yet detached, all-knowing yet humble. He spoke sweetly, sought the good of all beings, and destroyed evil only when it threatened the innocent. Rama’s divine form was radiant and auspicious, suitable for all devotees to contemplate. His purpose was to protect the seekers and establish Dharma through compassion, not conquest. True power, words of Narada remind us, lies not in domination but in disciplined kindness and purposeful restraint.

Narada further described Rama’s form in minute detail: lofty crown, broad chest, long arms reaching his knees, radiant countenance, a step like a royal elephant, and eyes wide and gentle like lotus petals. Every limb reflected divine symmetry and inner balance. His speech was melodious and his presence magnetic. In his form, the science of Samudrika Shastra (Physiognomy) found its living perfection. To visualize Rama is to see beauty united with virtue, a harmony our modern aesthetics often forget, where outward charm outweighs inward grace.

According to Narada, Rama was the guardian of Sharanagata Dharma (Protection of the Surrendered), unbreakable in promise, steadfast in truth, generous in charity, and devoted to the welfare of all beings. He possessed the knowledge of the Brahman yet lived as the humblest of men. He revered his parents and teachers, respected elders, and protected those who sought refuge in him. Equal to Vishnu in valor and compassion, Rama ruled not to command but to serve. His example teaches every leader, whether of a family, community, or nation that, authority is sacred only when guided by compassion and duty.

Narada continued: Rama could subdue both his own anger and that of others. He was the destroyer of evil, the knower of all scriptures and their inner meanings. He excelled in self-control, possessed keen memory, and was eloquent, wise, and compassionate. His personality radiated calm majesty, inspiring both reverence and affection.
Even in the chaos of our modern age, this balance of intellect and emotion defines the true leader, firm in mind, gentle in heart.

Rama’s courage equaled Vishnu’s might. His patience rivaled the earth’s endurance. In generosity, he surpassed Kubera, and in truth, he stood unmatched. Narada declared that there existed no other Purushottama, perfect man, comparable to Rama. To mistake him for an ordinary king, said Narada, is to miss the divine concealed in the human. Today’s humanity, obsessed with appearances and achievements, needs this reminder that, divinity often hides behind humility.

Valmiki, with his characteristic poetic method, never reveals everything at once. He scatters insights like stars across the epic, each shining when one contemplates deeply. For instance, he notes Rama’s age as twenty-five when going into exile and twelve when accompanying Vishvamitra. In other words: regard Rama as twenty-five years old at the time of his forest exile, and as twelve when he accompanied Vishvamitra.

He was born in the twelfth month, went with Vishvamitra in his twelfth year, spent twelve years in Ayodhya, twelve years in the forest, and Sita Devi resided twelve years at Valmiki’s ashram. This curious numerical pattern is the sort of subtleness of Valmiki that metaphysicians alone will fully appreciate. Such scattered hints, when joined, form the rhythm of deeper truth. Valmiki’s style teaches patience in understanding, truth is never instant, it unfolds through reflection.

In his previous birth, King Dasharatha had worshipped the Lord and sought a boon for sons. To fulfill that olden promise, Lord Vishnu incarnated as Rama, along with Lakshmana, Bharata, and Shatrughna, each a ray of divine energy. His descent (Avatara) was not an accident but a divine plan to restore Dharma and to teach humanity the path of Karma Yoga through action and example. Rama’s life shows that spirituality and responsibility are not opposites, but they are one continuous flow of divine duty.

When the young Rama followed Sage Vishvamitra to protect his sacrifice, the sage greeted him tenderly as: ‘Noble son of Kausalya, arise! The dawn has come, and the time for divine worship is near.’ These words implied that Kausalya was blessed because she had given birth to such a child, not that Rama was great because of his birth. In today’s meritless hierarchies of privilege, this moment reminds that, nobility arises from conduct, not inheritance.

During Sita Kalyanam (Wedding), King Janaka addressed Rama as ‘Son of Kausalya.’ Why not simply ‘Rama’ or ‘Son of Dasharatha’? Because in all the worlds, there was only one Rama born to Kausalya, unique and unmistakable. Such precise expressions in Valmiki’s diction reveal layers of reverence. Words, when chosen with awareness, preserve both sanctity and clarity, an art the present language of today urgently needs.

The divine mission of Sri Ramachandra Murty for establishing righteousness (Dharma) begins with the slaying of Tataka, a woman demon. The Valmiki Ramayana itself declares that killing a woman is sinful. Even Bharata’s and Hanuman’s words elsewhere affirm the same. Then why did Rama who initially hesitated ultimately commit this act? The Bhagavad Gita was born precisely to resolve such doubts. Both Arjuna and Rama were Kshatriyas (Warrior Class). Arjuna hesitated to fight, fearing that killing his own kinsmen, even in the line of duty, would bring him sin. Rama too wondered whether, even for Swadharma (One’s Righteous Duty), it was right to slay a woman.

What Krishna taught Arjuna on the battlefield, Vishvamitra taught Rama in the forest. Thus, guided by Vishvamitra and realizing that, performing one’s duty without attachment is itself righteousness, not cruelty or against virtue, Sri Ramachandra Murty carried out the act, not out of desire or anger, but as divine obligation against destructive forces. Therefore, Rama’s slaying of Tataka was not a sin, instead, it was the fulfillment of Dharma. In every age, the true test of duty lies not in comfort but in conscience. When one acts without ego for the greater good, even the hardest action becomes sacred service. When morality seems complex, Dharma demands not blind obedience but discernment, doing what upholds the greater good.

After Sita and Rama Kalyanam (Wedding), the Bala Kanda closes with descriptions of their blissful life in Ayodhya. Their love was mutual and sacred. Rama was the enjoyer, Sita the joy itself, like the sun and its light. Their union symbolized cosmic balance, where masculine and feminine energies exist not in hierarchy but harmony. In a world divided by ego and gender, Sita and Rama together teach that love is not possession, it is reverence.

In Ayodhya Kanda, Valmiki elaborates on noble virtues of Rama, his humility, compassion, steadfastness, and adherence to Dharma. Each quality in him was not theoretical but practiced. To remember Rama’s feet was to worship him with flowers of devotion. One may ask, ‘Why should one remember Sri Rama above all?’ There is an answer. We are all like Swa, the dependent or the possessed; whereas He alone is Swami, the possessor and protector. When we free ourselves from resistance (Pratikoola Bhavana) and turn toward Him in harmony (Anukoola Bhavana), His love surrounds us all the more tenderly.

Even when we do not pray, He continues to protect us; at least, should we not offer gratitude? He is the sustainer of all beings, the guardian of nature, and the upholder of the universe. Therefore, He is our Swami, not by conquest, but by compassion. True devotion begins with gratitude, the quiet realization that every breath we take is already an answered prayer. Faith begins when we stop demanding miracles and start recognizing meaning in every act of duty.

Valmiki emphasizes that even when Rama performed austerities, ruled a kingdom, or fought a war, he did so with the same equanimity. To think of him is to purify oneself. To worship him with gratitude is to align with divine rhythm. When gratitude becomes a daily practice, even ordinary life turns sacred. Among Dasharatha’s four sons, Rama shone brightest in mind, heart, and valor. His devotion to his father equaled Brahma’s to Vishnu. Like the sun revealing itself without losing its brilliance, Rama manifested his divinity without abandoning humanity. True greatness does not need declaration, but it reveals itself through conduct.

Kausalya’s joy at seeing her son resembled Aditi’s delight upon beholding Indra. Rama’s smile melted anger and his words as a child healed hearts. Gratitude defined him. He remembered even the smallest favor forever. To forgive was his pride and to protect the repentant was his joy. Forgiveness, when rooted in strength, becomes the highest expression of power. Even while engaged in archery practice, if elders or seekers approached, Rama would pause, listen, and respond with humility. Even to enemies, he spoke sweetly, with patience and composure. He never uttered falsehood or double meaning. He lived close to people, loved by all. In an era where arrogance passes for authority, Rama’s humility is a lost yet necessary virtue.

Rama shared others’ sorrow as his own. He upheld the vow of Sharanagata Raksha, the protection of those who surrendered. He avoided listening to gossip or tales contrary to Dharma, the Righteousness. He remained healthy, fearless, and serene. His presence brought peace to all hearts. When leaders and citizens alike cultivate empathy, every home can become a miniature Ramarajya. He mastered the Vedas and their auxiliaries, excelled in weapons and scriptures, and surpassed even his teachers in knowledge. He remained tranquil in adversity, truthful in speech, and steadfast in wisdom. Rama’s strength lay not merely in arms but in self-mastery, an ideal for every student and statesman alike, not to speak of every political leader of present-day.

Rama showed unwavering reverence toward his teachers. He never spoke harshly, even to wrongdoers. He could discern character by mere glance and choose friends aligned with righteousness. True education, as Rama exemplifies, is not the accumulation of facts but the cultivation of discernment. Like bees gathering honey, Rama knew how to earn and spend wealth according to Dharma. He was wise in governance, tactful in statecraft, and adept in diplomacy and arts. He could tame even the cruel and transform them through his example. Economic intelligence joined with moral restraint creates prosperity without corruption, and THIS IS THE ECONOMICS OF RAMARAJYA.

Rama bore no envy. Anger visited him only when Dharma was at stake. Despite immense strength, he never humiliated anyone. Pure in thought and nature, he rejoiced in others’ progress. True leadership finds joy in others’ success, not fear in their rise. Dasharatha, witnessing Rama’s virtues, decided that his son alone was worthy of kingship. The people loved Rama even more than they loved the king himself. To them, he was not a prince but a promise, the embodiment of justice, courage, and compassion. In every age, the measure of a ruler lies in the trust his people place in his character.

The ministers and citizens unanimously approved Rama’s coronation. Dasharatha declared that Rama was equal to Indra in valor, to Yama in justice, to Brihaspati in intellect, and to Meru in stability. When governance mirrors divinity, justice becomes not fear-driven but love-guided. All sections of society, scholars and commoners alike, praised Rama’s virtues. They said he possessed countless noble traits but not a single flaw. In him, truth itself became heroism. Integrity, when complete, transforms strength into peace—a lesson still needed in every institution.

Rama’s justice brought joy to all. In his presence, even the weak felt protected. He was firm yet fair, strict yet kind. To think of him was to experience comfort; to live under his rule was to know security. Good governance is not about control, it is about trust, built through fairness and empathy. The citizens of Ayodhya said that Rama greeted everyone before going home, by name, with affection, inquiring about their welfare. Even those suffering afar found consolation in his compassion. He was the father of all. Public life, when infused with personal care, transforms administration into affection.

Rama’s divine form resembled that of Vishnu, bearing sacred marks and features described in the Vedas. His arrows never missed, his heart never wavered. He ruled not just a land but the three worlds through virtue. Rama’s victory was never conquest. It was alignment with the divine order. Under his reign, the world flourished. Sages performed penance undisturbed, women lived without fear, parents never wept for lost children, and nature itself rejoiced. There were no diseases, thefts, or disasters. Society glowed with harmony. Ramarajya was not utopia, it was organized compassion, where every being had a place and purpose.

Rama performed many sacrifices, gave away countless cows and wealth, and ruled by Dharma, preferring people’s happiness to his own comfort. Even fallen dynasties were restored and displaced rulers regained their lands. Each caste and community practiced its duties without oppression or neglect. He ruled for eleven thousand years in justice and peace, finally returning to Vaikuntha, the divine abode. His reign became the golden standard for all governance. True progress restores, not replaces, and it uplifts without exclusion. Whenever humanity loses faith in leadership, the memory of Ramarajya shines as a call to conscience.

When Narada first narrated story of Rama to Valmiki, he spoke of the past and future alike, proving that Ramayana to be written by him, transcends time. It remained just not as a legend but living law. To question its authenticity is to misunderstand its purpose. it is the self-evident Veda of human conduct. Even today, Valmiki Ramayana renews itself in every act of goodness, every word of truth, every heart of faith.

Valmiki composed the Ramayana before performing the Ashvamedha Yagna. It is sacred, longevity-giving, fame-yielding, and liberating. Whoever reads or hears it with devotion overcomes sorrow and gains divine grace. The gods rejoice, evil retreats, and life becomes auspicious. Rama may have departed in form, but his presence fills all time and space. To hold the Valmiki Ramayana close is to walk with Rama through joy, through struggle, through eternity.

The Ramayana is not a tale that ends. It is a light that continues to guide. Its verses are not bound by time, and its message is not confined to faith. Rama still walks among the humanity at large, in every act of compassion, in every truthful word spoken despite consequence, in every leader who chooses justice over comfort, and in every individual who stands alone for what is right.

Let this book remain with one and all, not as an ornament of devotion, but as a living companion, one that teaches courage when we falter, serenity when we succeed, and humility when we rise. For those who read with faith, the Valmiki Ramayana becomes not a scripture but a mirror showing what humanity can be when divinity dwells within.