Chapter 92 — The King's Search

Lakshmana received Rama's command without delay.

“Go to the brahmin,” Rama said. “Comfort him. Put the child's body in a vessel of oil, with the finest scents and fragrant oils, so that it does not decay or break apart while I am gone.”

The order gave the dead child a place within the action that followed. The father would not be asked to abandon his son at the gate; the body would be guarded against decay while Rama sought the cause named in the council.

When Lakshmana had gone to carry out the command, Rama summoned Pushpaka in thought. The celestial vehicle understood his intention and came at once, adorned with gold. Rama took up his bow, his full quiver, and his bright sword. He left Bharata and Lakshmana in the city, then climbed into Pushpaka and set out alone.

He searched toward the west first, crossing the dry lands and looking carefully through the country. He turned north toward the region enclosed by the Himalayas. He traveled east. In none of those directions did he find the wrong Narada had named. The search did not yield a visible crime, a witness, or an easy answer.

Then Rama turned south.

North of Mount Shaivala, he saw a great lake. Its water lay below a solitary figure. An ascetic hung above it head downward, held in the severe discipline of his tapas. There was no crowd around him, no council, no accuser: only the lake, the suspended body, and the king who had come searching through his own realm.

Rama descended and approached.

“Your discipline is formidable,” he said. “Tell me truly: from what birth group do you come? Are you a brahmin, a kshatriya, a vaishya, or a Shudra?”

He asked a second question, as important as the first.

“What do you seek through this severe tapas? What purpose do you hold in your mind?”

Above the still water, the ascetic remained upside down. Rama waited for him to answer. The answer would give the man's name, his stated desire, and the next act in the chain that had begun with a father crying over a child at Ayodhya's gate.