Appendix

Verses establishing the supremacy of the bow and arrow

Kavitta on the bow

Raghunatha's bow reigns in his left hand, delighting the mind steeped in rasa; more beautifully fashioned than the divine bow of the god of love. Hearing the hard and terrible roar of its string, enemies tremble like elephants hearing the voice of a lion. Protector of saints and gods, curved like the young moon, death of Lanka's lord, giver of fearlessness, destroyer of sorrow; mighty guardian of earth, dharma, cows, and brahmins - I bow to the bow, lord of weapons, and to its Bearer.

Kavitta on the arrow

The mighty wind forever dwells in its two feathers; when released, it convulses the seven oceans and the worlds. Upon its head dwell both the sun and mighty fire; its astonishing weight equals Mount Meru and Mount Mandara. Subtle as space, it flashes, says Rasrangamani; each arrow is unfailing and its power beyond measure. Millions of times stronger than the thunderbolt, thousands beyond the trident, forty times beyond the discus - such are Rama's speeding arrows.

Gitavali song: Beholding the delight of Avadh

Beholding the delight of Avadh, companies of gods rejoice and shower flowers day and night. Brahma watches in many ways, hoping to learn the art of building such a city, but finds it utterly unfathomable, like free movement on land to a creature of water. The delighted people of the city gaze upon the source of happiness and sing his praise; their beautiful bee-like eyes drink nectar from the lotus of Rama's face. At mid-heaven the sun moves slowly, and so do the stars and moon. Beholding Rama's city, says Tulsi, every pair of sorrows disappears.

Concluding verses of Tulsidas

One trust, one strength, one hope, one faith: one dark-cloud Rama alone is dear to chataka-like Tulsidas.

One trust in Rama's strength, one faith in Rama's name; remembering the auspicious Name, Tulsidas asks for welfare and blessedness.

Until a soul worships Rama's feet, abandons desire, and leaves the abode of sorrow, there can be no welfare anywhere, nor rest for the mind even in a dream.

The tongue is a serpent and the mouth its hole for one who does not repeat Hari's name. Whoever has no love for Rama, says Tulsi, has destiny turned against him.

Let the heart split, the eyes burst, and the body burn - what use are they if, remembering Rama, they do not melt, flow with tears, and thrill with devotion?