Rama at Chitrakoota: The Forest Becomes a Home >>>>> Simplified and faithful rendering of the Adi Kavya-43 : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Rama at Chitrakoota: The Forest Becomes a Home

Simplified and faithful rendering of the Adi Kavya-43

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao (October 12, 2026)

Having received the blessings of Bharadwaja and crossed the sacred Yamuna, Rama’s exile entered a new phase. No longer merely wandering, he now begins to choose, to settle, to shape a life within the forest. This Chapter marks this delicate transition, from movement to rootedness, and from uncertainty to harmony. Chitrakoota is not simply a mountain, and instead it becomes the first space where exile turns into disciplined living, and where nature, devotion, and duty converge. We witness Rama not as prince deprived of kingdom, but as dharmic householder in the wilderness: guiding, consecrating, and transforming forest solitude into sacred habitation.

Bharadwaja, having shown Sri Rama the path to Chitrakoota, became the gentle turning point between exile and settlement. At the break of dawn, the otherwise royal princes, but then the ascetics, rose with hearts full of quiet gratitude, thoughtfully questioned themselves whether they were not truly blessed to have received the grace of a great sage like Bharadwaja. With reverence, they bowed to the Maharshi and requested complete directions to reach Chitrakoota. Blessing them with affectionate words, and looking upon Rama like a father seeing off his own sons, Bharadwaja said that:

They must proceed to the confluence of the Ganga and Yamuna. From there, should follow the western bank of the Yamuna as the River flows westward. Because the waters of the Ganga do not obstruct it at that stretch, the Yamuna runs swiftly said Bharadwaja. He also said that, they will notice a path made firm by the movement of people, where they need to construct a raft and cross the river. After crossing, they will see a sacred tree named Shyama, adorned with tender green leaves and many branches. The sage suggested that, ‘let Sita offer her prayers there, and if she feels weary, she may rest for a while beneath its shade, otherwise, they may continue.

Beyond lies a dark forest filled with beautiful jujube and bamboo groves, told the sage, and added that, he walked that path many times, which would be smooth, free of stones and thorns, and without danger of forest fires. The sage does not merely give directions and instead, he gives assurance. Even in exile, guidance arrives through those who have walked the terrain before us. Having thus described the path to Chitrakoota, Bharadwaja gently asked, Sri Ramachandra, whether he can take leave from him. Rama humbly consented. The pure-hearted sage then returned to his hermitage.

Turning to Lakshmana, Rama said with quiet feeling that, by the grace of the Maharshi, the had indeed earned great merit. Thus conversing, they continued their journey. Until then Rama had been walking behind, but now he moved ahead along the bank of the Yamuna. Observing the swift current, the brothers paused and reflected, as to how they would be able to cross the river there. Gathering bundles of wood, Rama and Lakshmana constructed a raft. They bound dried bamboo poles together, spread stout creepers across them, and arranged slender branches of jujube and other trees to form a seat. Lakshmana carefully prepared the raft to ensure stability and safety.

In times of uncertainty, resourcefulness becomes dharma in action. Exile taught not helplessness, but skill, cooperation, and quiet resilience. Sri Rama then gently helped Sita, radiant like Lakshmi herself, of inconceivable grace, modest yet smiling softly, onto the raft, holding her hand with care. Lakshmana stood in the water to steady it. Rama placed beside her their garments, ornaments, weapons, the spade, and the leather-covered basket. Holding the raft firmly, the brothers ensured her safety as they began to cross.

When the raft reached midstream, Sita Devi folded her hands and prayed joyfully to the river as: ‘Oh, Divine River Yamuna! As we cross you, bless me that my vow of chastity remains unbroken and that we may complete our exile and return safely. When we come back to Ayodhya, I shall gift a thousand cows to the Brahmins and offer a hundred jars of sweet drink in your honor. Even in hardship, gratitude and faith remain the ornaments of the noble. Sita’s prayer reflects not fear of the river, but reverence for the sacred forces that sustain life. As she offered her salutations, the raft gently reached the southern bank, rich with luscious trees heavy with sweet fruit. Rama and Lakshmana helped Sita disembark, then untied and left the raft behind, stepping forward onto the next stage of their destined journey.

Sita, Rama, and Lakshmana then noticed the sacred Shyama Banyan tree that Bharadwaja had indicated. Walking along the banks of the River Yamuna, observing the trees that lined her shores one after another, they soon reached the majestic Banyan ‘Shyama’ adorned with cool, tender green leaves and serene beauty. Beholding the sacred tree, Janaki Devi, with firm resolve, prayed:

‘Oh, King of Trees! With full grace bless me that my lord may successfully complete his vow of forest exile. Accept my salutations. Grant that I may once again behold my revered mothers-in-law: Kausalya of boundless virtue and Sumitra, praised by the noble for her exalted qualities. Receive my obeisance and bless them as well.’ In exile, even trees become witnesses to vows. Faith does not depend on temples alone; wherever reverence is offered, sanctity awakens.

After Sita circumambulated the tree in devotion, Sri Ramachandra said to Lakshmana, to walk ahead, taking Sita with him. Armed with his bow, said Rama that, he shall follow behind, and as they proceed, if Sita desires any beautiful flower or fruit along the way, Lakshmana must gather it and give it to her. Lakshmana replied, that, so be it, and moved forward. Sita walked between the two brothers like a graceful she-elephant between two mighty tuskers. Wonder-struck, she observed the marvels around her.

Whenever she saw an unfamiliar tree, blossom, or creeper of rare beauty, she would lovingly ask, Rama, what was the name of that, showing him the leaf, that was unusual in it looks! Sita also showed Rama a flower, observing ‘what beauty!’ Similarly, her feeling was ‘Ah! These tender shoots melt the heart. How delicate and lovely this plant appears!’ Perceiving that her heart delighted in them, Lakshmana would carefully gather the flowers or fruits and offer them with devotion. Even amidst uncertainty, moments of shared wonder sustain the human spirit. Hardship does not cancel beauty, but it often sharpens the ability to see it.

Proceeding for about couple of miles, along the charming sands, accompanied by the gentle calls of swans and the clear flow of the River Yamuna, they halted for the day, partook of deer meat, and rested. The banks echoed with the cries of peacocks, the chatter of monkeys, and the trumpeting of elephants. At a spot by the water that pleased Sita, Rama and Lakshmana chose to pause for the night. Sri Rama the next morning showed Sita the many wonders of Chitrakoota.

Having spent the night upon the riverbank, at dawn Sri Rama gently awakened Lakshmana, who had slept only a little. Addressing him as ‘Saumitri’ Rama guided him to listen to the forest, the cuckoos, parrots, and cranes which were calling out in delightful chorus. Rama also hinted at resuming their journey further. Lakshmana came out of the mist of sleep strain, and weariness. After bathing in the River and performing their morning rites, they proceeded along the path indicated by Bharadwaja, advancing toward Chitrakoota. As they walked, Rama began describing to Sita the marvels that unfolded before them.

Thus, described Rama: ‘Sita! Look there. Do you see the flame-of-the-forest trees? The woods appear as though they were ablaze with red blossoms. In this spring season they stand adorned like garlands of flowers. See how the cashew trees, heavy with fruit and leaves, bend low, encircled by thick shrubs and thickets, as though guarding their bounty from intruders. It was because such life-sustaining trees abound here that I can dwell happily in this forest.  ‘This quietly reveals that Rama’s principal sustenance in exile was fruits: the simplicity of his diet reflecting the austerity of his vow,’ observed Andhra Valmiki Vavilikolanu Subbarau.

Turning to Lakshmana, Rama continued, ‘Look, brother! The honeycombs built by bees hang in clusters from the rocky slopes, each filled with rich honey, as though no one had come to taste it. In these enchanting groves, radiant with blossoms, birds call out from the tender shoots, and peacocks answer in joyous cries. See there, Lakshmana! That is Chitrakoota mountain, resplendent with herds of elephants and alive with the music of countless birds. Near that mountain lies a level and delightful spot shaded by dense trees. Let us dwell there.’ Exile now began to soften into belonging. When beauty was noticed and shared, even a forest becomes a home in the making.

Thus speaking, Sri Ramachandra, accompanied by Lakshmana and Sita, rejoiced inwardly that they had reached their destined place. The mountain of Chitrakoota, resonant with the calls of countless birds, rich with abundant fruits, roots, and sweet waters, adorned with graceful creepers and trees, and fit for the residence of great ascetics engaged in penance, stood before them in serene majesty. Then Rama told Lakshmana that, they can live there happily, as that place was pleasing to the mind, filled with natural charm, had plentiful of Fruits and Roots, many kinds of flowering creepers, and trees flourishing there.

Rama also said that, great sages rich in tapas established their hermitages nearby, and hence make the mountain as their dwelling and live there in contentment. The search for shelter ends not in luxury, but in harmony. A place becomes worthy of habitation when it aligns with dharma and quiet purpose. Sri Rama then visited the great sage Valmiki, who was nearby. With Lakshmana following behind, Sita and Rama advanced first and offered their salutations to the noble Maharshi Valmiki. In this connection, Andhra Valmiki Vavilikolanu Subbarau, in his Mandaram rendering of the Ayodhya Kanda of the Valmiki Ramayana, observes that:

‘When approaching other sages, it was Rama who stepped forward first to bow. But when visiting Valmiki, Sita went ahead and offered her reverence first. Perhaps this held a deeper significance, for in time to come, destiny would weave her life closely with that of this sage. In the Bala Kanda, Valmiki was described as dwelling on the banks of the River Tamasa, but here he was seen at Chitrakoota. When Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana first arrived at Chitrakoota, Valmiki was residing there. After Bharata’s visit, when many sages left the region, Valmiki was said to have returned to the Tamasa. Just as Agastya was described as residing in more than one place, so too might a great rishi dwell where dharma calls him.’

In epic narratives, geography often bends before destiny. Where dharma must unfold, the sage is already present. This marks the sixth day since Rama left Ayodhya. Valmiki received them with due honors and offered them seats. He inquired about their welfare. According to scriptural propriety, Sri Rama introduced themselves and explained the cause of their arrival. Having taken the sage’s leave, Rama instructed Lakshmana to gather strong and suitable wood and construct a hermitage: comparatively, beautiful, firm, and protected from rain. Lakshmana promptly undertook the task and built the Parnashala accordingly. Thus, began not merely a dwelling of leaves and branches, but the quiet establishment of a life rooted in renunciation, duty, and unfolding destiny.

Sri Rama and Lakshmana then constructed the hermitage at Chitrakoota. The walls and outer enclosures of the leaf-thatched dwelling were built firm and secure, unmoved by wind or rain. Observing the completed structure, Rama felt deep satisfaction as he looked at Lakshmana, who, once entrusted with a task, allowed his mind to wander to nothing else until it was fulfilled with devotion. Rama the asked Lakshmana, to procure a deer, since they must perform the prescribed rites and worship the household deities according to scripture. For one who desires to dwell long upon this earth, such sanctification was essential, said Rama, suggesting him to recall the proper procedure as taught in the shastras and to bring a deer.

Lakshmana immediately obeyed. Rama instructed him to cook the venison or animal protein, thoroughly. Lakshmana prepared the meat of the black deer carefully, ensuring that, it was properly cleansed and cooked whole, without mutilation of its limbs, just as it would have appeared when living. Having done so, he respectfully requested Rama, who was well-versed in ritual law, to complete the sacred rites. Even in exile, dharma was not suspended. A dwelling becomes a home only when consecrated by discipline, gratitude, and sacred remembrance.

Upon hearing Lakshmana’s words, Rama performed the Varuna Purification, chanted the mantras to the Vastu deities, and completed all required rites. The household deities were worshipped with due offerings. In the presence of all, Sita, Rama, and Lakshmana entered the hermitage. Rama then performed the Vaishvadeva ritual with joy. Offerings were made, such as, Raudra Bali and Vaishnava Bali, along with purificatory chants such as Punyahavachana and Shanti Japa to remove any Vastu blemishes. He immersed himself again in water as part of the rites. Offerings were also given to appease unseen beings, ensuring harmony with all realms.

Thus, desiring their own welfare and following scriptural injunctions in a manner that would win the approval of great rishis, they completed all sacred observances. Ritual here was not mere ceremony, rather it was alignment, between man and nature, between effort and grace, between earthly dwelling and cosmic order. Balipeethams were arranged appropriately, and sacred spaces consecrated in accordance with hermitage tradition. Garlands of forest flowers, fruits, cooked offerings, sanctified waters empowered by Vedic mantras, darbha grass, and sacrificial sticks were properly placed.

Surrounded by countless animals and birds, radiant with beautiful trees, echoing with the calls of elephants and forest creatures, and graced by the lovely banks of the River Malyavati, Sita and Rama lived joyfully, forgetting entirely the hardships of exile in that sacred land. When life is rooted in purpose, even a foreign land becomes one’s own. Contentment is born not from circumstance, but from inner steadiness. Thus, established at Chitrakoota, guided by sages, sustained by nature, and anchored in dharma, Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana began a life of serene austerity. The forest echoed not with sorrow, but with quiet strength.

Yet, while peace settled upon Chitrakoota, events in Ayodhya were unfolding in a very different manner, which will be unveiled in next chapter. Destiny does not pause for peace. Far away in Ayodhya, grief, realization, and irreversible decisions were taking shape. The stillness of Chitrakoota would soon be stirred by footsteps approaching from the world they had left behind. The next chapter turns our gaze back to Ayodhya.

>>>>> Photographs Courtesy Rama Bhakta Vijaya Raghava Dasu

{{From my Published Book ‘Simplified and Faithful Rendering of the Adi Kavya’

Valmiki Ramayana: The Greatest Epic (Bala and Ayodhya Kandas)}}

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