Shankara Opens the Forest Road and Rama Appears upon It
Aranya Kanda, Shloka 2
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At the threshold of Aranya Kanda, the poet first bows to Shankara. He rises like the root of dharma's tree, the full moon above the ocean of discernment, and the sun that opens the lotus of detachment. The dense night of sin thins before him, affliction subsides, and the gathered storm-clouds of delusion scatter under a heaven-born wind.
Then the invocation opens into a forest road. Rama walks beneath the trees, beautiful as a rain-heavy cloud saturated with bliss. Yellow cloth moves against his dark form. Bow and arrows rest in his hands, a full quiver shines at his waist, and matted locks crown the face whose long eyes spread like lotus petals.
Sita and Lakshmana travel with him. Nothing in the scene separates the absolute from the path beneath human feet. The Lord who delights all who behold him accepts dust, distance, and exile, while Shankara, beloved of Rama and purifier of every stain, stands unseen at the entrance to the Kanda in adoration.
Beneath Shankara's blessing, the forest receives the footfall of Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana.
Read the passage from the Manas
मूलं धर्मतरोर्विवेकजलधेः पूर्णेन्दुमानन्ददं वैराग्याम्बुजभास्करं ह्यघघनध्वान्तापहं तापहम्। मोहाम्भोधरपूगपाटनविधौ स्वःसम्भवं शङ्करं वन्दे ब्रह्मकुलं कलंकशमनं श्रीरामभूपप्रियम्।।1।। सान्द्रानन्दपयोदसौभगतनुं पीताम्बरं सुन्दरं पाणौ बाणशरासनं कटिलसत्तूणीरभारं वरम् राजीवायतलोचनं धृतजटाजूटेन संशोभितं सीतालक्ष्मणसंयुतं पथिगतं रामाभिरामं भजे।।2।।
I bow to Shri Shankaraji, root of the tree of dharma, full moon that gladdens the ocean of viveka, sun that opens the lotus of vairaagya, destroyer of the dense darkness of paap, remover of the three afflictions. He is the wind born from heaven who scatters the gathered clouds of moha, descended from Brahma's line, cleanser of every stain, beloved of King Shri Rama. I worship Shri Rama, most beautiful. His body is like rain-laden clouds, dense with aananda; He wears lovely yellow garments, bow and arrow rest in His hands, and a quiver graces His waist. His eyes are wide as lotus petals, and matted locks crown His head. Walking the forest path with Sita and Lakshmana, He is the delight of all who behold Him. His eyes are like red lotus, His form surpassingly fair. He is the moon to the chakora birds of Sita's eyes, a young swan on the Maanasa lake of Shiva's heart. I bow to Rama of broad chest and mighty arms. He is Garuda who devours the serpent of doubt, who destroys the grief born of harsh reasoning. He ends the cycle of birth and delights the gods. May that host of mercy ever protect us. Formless yet formed, unequalled yet equal, beyond knowledge, speech, and senses; incomparable! Pure, complete, faultless, infinite. I bow to Rama who lightens the burden of the earth. A garden of kalpataru for His bhaktas, terror to krodha, lobha, mada, and kaama, supremely wise, the bridge across the ocean of samsaara. May the banner of the Surya-vansha protect me always. His arms' glory and strength are matchless. His Naam destroys the vast impurities of Kali Yuga. He is the armor of dharma; His virtues bring joy. May Rama ever expand my welfare. Though stainless, all-pervading, imperishable, dwelling always in every heart, yet, O Slayer of Khara, with Sita and brother, dwell in my heart as the forest-wanderer! Let those who know You know You, Lord, as formed, formless, the inner knower of all hearts. But let Rama of lotus-eyes, Kosala's King, make my heart His dwelling place. May this pride never leave me, even by mistake: I am the sevaka, Raghupati is my master.