Kritantavaktra Renounces the World

Frightened by the Kevali's account of the endless round of births, Rama's general Kritantavaktra tells Rama that he has wandered in misery since beginningless time through wrong belief and now wishes to take the vows of a muni. Rama warns him that Jina diksha is very hard: how will one who has never known hardship, with a body tender as a lotus, bear the twenty-two hardships of cold, heat, hunger and thirst, the thorny words of the wicked, sleep on stony ground in deep forests, break fasts of a fortnight or a month with plain food in another's house, and endure the insults of base men, when as a proud warrior he never tolerated even the war cries of an enemy army?

Kritantavaktra answers that since he has found the strength to give up the nectar of Rama's affection, nothing else can be hard; he wants to escape this dark forest of births before the thunderbolt of death strikes his body, and no kind man stops someone fleeing a burning house. Worldly pleasures are fleeting and worthless, parting from loved ones is certain and every sorrow comes through the body, so he will seek the means never to take a body again.

With tears in his eyes Rama slowly masters his attachment and blesses him for leaving splendour such as Rama's for restraint and austerity, asking only that if he does not reach moksha in this life but becomes a god, he should come and awaken Rama in his hour of trouble and not forget him in the world of the gods. Kritantavaktra promises, throws off all his ornaments, bows to Sakalabhushana Kevali and, renouncing inner and outer possessions, becomes a muni, so that Kritantavaktra, the death-faced, becomes Saumyavaktra, the gentle-faced. Many great kings take the nirgrantha (possessionless) vows with him, others become lay followers or gain right faith, and gods, asuras and men take vows according to their strength and return to their homes.

Rama bows to Sakalabhushana and all the sages and goes humbly to the aryika Sita, who sits among the nuns like the moon among the stars, blazing with austerity like a flame fed with ghee and burning away her sins. Though she has given up every ornament she remains the crown of beauty, modesty, constancy, fame, wisdom and fortune, and in her white robe she looks like a holy river flecked with foam or the moonlight of an autumn full moon, like the very goddess of the Jina teaching. Astonished, Rama stands as still as a kalpavriksha gazing at her, looking beside the nuns like a golden mountain beside autumn clouds.

Rama broods that Sita, so timid she once trembled at the sound of thunder and so delicate she walked slowly under the weight of her hips, must now live on whatever alms come her way, sleep among stones, ants and mosquitoes instead of on soft beds in palaces like celestial vimanas, lulled no longer by vina, flute and mridanga, and face sharp darbha grass and the fear of lions and tigers. He blames himself for having driven so faithful, chaste and sweet-spoken a wife from home because of the slander of ignorant fools.

Then, recalling the Kevali's words, Rama takes heart, wipes away his tears and bows to the aryika Sita, and Lakshmana, sad at heart, bows with folded hands and joins him in praising her. They call her blessed and worthy of worship: as the earth bears Sumeru she has taken up the Jina's dharma, drunk the nectar of his words to cure the disease of rebirth and boarded the ship of right faith, knowledge and conduct to cross the ocean of samsara, bringing glory to both her families, and they ask her to forgive whatever pain they caused her in their ignorance.

Placing Lavana and Ankusha before them, the brothers enter Ayodhya with the Vidyadharas and great kings like Indra entering Amaravati, the queens following on many kinds of vehicles. From their palaces the women of the city talk: one says Rama, brave and wise, lost so faithful a queen with his own hands through the slander of fools; another that heroes of pure lineage never let a stain touch their clan, and that Sita proved herself in the divine fire and then took diksha; one says Rama without Janaki is a moon without moonlight, another that his radiance depends on no one; one calls Sita's heart adamant for leaving such a husband, another blesses her for leaving the mire of household life; and one wonders how she could leave such sons, while another answers that the princes are mighty and their own merit is their helper, for all beings are subject to their own karma.

The people never tire of gazing at Rama, and looking at Lakshmana they praise him as the Narayana, best of men, bearer of the chakra and lord of royal fortune, who has brought the earth under his sway and widowed the wives of his enemies and yet obeys Rama in all things. So praised, the two brothers enter their palace like Indra entering heaven, and the chapter promises that those who read, teach, hear and take to heart the story of Rama the Baladeva win imperishable fortune, while hearing of Sita's sufferings gives people the strength to bear their own.