Kausalya’s Heartbreak (Ramayana Series 25)

Kausalya Devi, who had joyfully heard from Rama himself that his coronation as Yuvaraja would take place the next day, spent the entire night in divine vigil. At dawn, after performing an auspicious ritual bath and adorning herself in sacred garments, she completed the worship of Lord Mahavishnu. She awaited her beloved son in a sanctified and serene state.

At that very time, Rama entered her auspicious chamber and saw his mother performing sacred homas through the Brahmanas. Seeing her son arrive so late in the morning, Kausalya’s heart bloomed with joy. She rushed towards him, and Rama bowed reverently at her feet. Lifting her son lovingly, embracing him with both arms, and gently smelling his forehead, she spoke with motherly affection:

“My child, go now and meet your father—the embodiment of truth. Today he will anoint you as Yuvaraja. Eat first, and then present yourself before your noble father.”

In obedience, Rama touched the seat she had prepared and folded his hands. Then, with deep calmness, he said:

“Mother, a grave misfortune stands before us. What is about to unfold will bring you, Sita, and Lakshmana immeasurable sorrow. I must leave for Dandakaranya at once. What use have I now for this golden seat? A bed of sacred grass awaits me. For fourteen years I shall live in the forest like a sage, sustaining myself with roots and fruits.”

Hearing these words, Kausalya collapsed to the ground like a celestial being struck from the heavens. Rama immediately lifted her and seated her gently. Instead of witnessing her son’s coronation, she now faced the cruel opposite. Overwhelmed with grief, she cried out—her words piercing the hearts of Rama and Lakshmana:

“My child, it would have been better had you never been born, than for me to suffer this unbearable anguish of separation. Barrenhood would have been far kinder than this torment! I have endured scorn from my co-wives even when you stood beside me. What will become of me when you are gone?

Seventeen years have passed since your birth. I believed my sorrow would finally lessen. But my grief is endless—limitless. This pain is beyond endurance.

Rama! I must have no place even in the abode of Yama, for death refuses to take me though I stand consumed by misery. Without you, my life is empty. Like a mother cow following her calf, I will come with you to the forest. I cannot live without you!”

Kausalya, unable to contain her sudden wave of despair, wept helplessly. Seeing her son bound by duty to his father’s command, she gazed upon him continuously, crying like a celestial maiden mourning her imprisoned child.

Her lament echoed through the royal chambers—a mother’s sorrow upon hearing the cruel fate awaiting her noble son.