Sita Goes to Pundarikapura and Rama Grieves for Her

Vajrajangha at once has a splendid palanquin brought for Sita, like a vimana, with mirrors set in its pillars and fringes of pearls and chowries, and she rides in it amid the great army, marvelling and reflecting on the ways of karma. In three days they cross the terrible forest, and through a land of gem, gold and silver mines and towns like cities of the gods, people of every town and village lay gifts at her feet and bow, calling her the crown of devoted wives whose sight destroys their sins, while kings come like gods to offer gifts.

Seeing temples in the gardens of that happy land, Sita reflects that where the king is righteous the people are happy. At Vajrajangha's command Pundarikapura is decked out to receive her, with fragrant water sprinkled on the ground, arches in the streets, auspicious pitchers at the doors, flags on the temples and songs and dances in every house; crowds line the way from the city gate to the palace, conches and instruments fill the ten directions, and Sita enters like Lakshmi entering heaven.

The women of the royal household come out to receive her; she alights, worships the Jinendra in the lofty Jina temple within the palace and then enters the royal residence, where Vajrajangha honours her just as her brother Bhamandala would. His family and queens serve her with devotion, wishing her victory and long life and taking her every word as a command, the servants stand ever ready at her feet, and the queens and maids, drawn by her affection, will not leave her alone for a moment, while she spends the gifts of vassals and kings on dharma and charity.

In Pundarikapura Sita keeps the six daily duties of a shravaka, worships the Jinendra with the eight substances, and studies all four anuyogas (branches of scripture) by reading, questioning, reflecting, reciting and teaching. She serves the fourfold sangha, protects the six kinds of living beings, restrains her senses and mind, practises the outer austerities of fasting, eating less, limiting her food, giving up tastes, solitary dwelling and bodily hardship as far as her strength allows, and daily gives the four gifts of food, medicine, knowledge and fearlessness, feeding the sangha with the ninefold devotion and the poor, sick and orphaned with compassion. Treating human life as a priceless jewel and setting aside negligence and worry, she keeps her mind on dharma-dhyana and lives happily among the queens in Vajrajangha's palace.

Burning with Sita's grief, Kritantavaktra rests his horses and returns to Rama, and bowing at his feet reports that he has left the great sati alone in the forest with only her unborn children for company. He describes the dark forest where lions and wild buffaloes fight, owls hoot, roars echo in the caves and pythons, snakes, scorpions and bees swarm, and then delivers her message.

If you seek your soul's welfare, Sita says, do not abandon devotion to the Jinendra as you abandoned me, nor give up faith in the Jina's teaching because of what others say, as you gave me up despite your love; judge carefully, and never let the innocent be falsely blamed on someone's word, as I was. Giving me up brings a little sorrow in this life, but giving up samyagdarshana (right faith) brings sorrow life after life: gems, women, treasure, kingdoms and wealth are easy to come by, but right faith is rare, sinning for a kingdom leads to hell, and only right faith carries the soul upward.

Kritantavaktra asks whose heart would not turn to dharma on hearing such words, and wonders how the timid Sita can live even a moment in a forest of venomous snakes, of mad elephants and deer running in vain to shrunken pools, of hot winds, of wild boars fouling the water, and of ground sharper than needles with thorns and stones. Realising that he has acted wrongly at the word of ignorant and wicked people, Rama faints, and when revived by cooling remedies he laments that Sita, though cast off, bore him no ill will and even taught him dharma.

He calls her the support of his life, who walked ahead of him in hardship and behind him in happiness, chief queen above his eight thousand, and imagines her tender feet on the stones, captured by Bhils who know no right or wrong, crushed under elephants in the dark, scorched by the summer sun with the twins suffering in her womb, or dead of pain with her mind still fixed on him. He prays that someone might bring news of her as Ratnajati once did, and begs Kritantavaktra to say that he left her somewhere safe, but the general only hangs his head in silence, and Rama falls senseless again.

Lakshmana comes and urges him to keep his equanimity, since this is the fruit of past sins, the whole people suffer alike, joy and sorrow come of themselves, and full merit protects a soul wherever it is cast; but then he too weeps, his face wilting like a lotus in the heat, mourning the mother who gladdened the royal swan Rama as Manasarovara gladdens swans, and saying that without her Ayodhya has no more beauty than the sky without the sun or the night without the moon. He tells Rama that the city's vinas, flutes and drums are silent, that in every street, market, house, crossroads and riverbank people weep until their tears turn the ground to mud as if the rains had returned, and that all, remembering how she cared for them like a mother, long to have her back.

Lakshmana urges Rama to set aside worry, which achieves nothing, and promises that if he wishes they will search for the queen and bring her back, for her merit will keep her from harm. Somewhat comforted, Rama turns to his duties and orders the treasurer Bhadrakalasha to go on giving gifts in Sita's name just as she had commanded, and the free giving continues for nine months.

Though he has eight thousand queens, Rama never forgets Sita for a moment, calls her name again and again, sees her in every direction and even dreams of her lying fallen in a mountain cave, yet through Lakshmana's counsel and hearing the doctrine his grief eases and he turns his mind to dharma-dhyana. Gautama tells Shrenika that the two just and loving brothers, Rama with his plough and pestle and Lakshmana with his discus, guard the earth to the ocean and reign like the Indras of the Saudharma and Ishana heavens, for the great merit they earned as monks in many past lives has made them Baladeva and Narayana and will in time bring them to the state of Arhat.