Lakshmana recognized his loving speech and knew that it was Bharata making obeisance. On the one hand, there was the loving affection of an elder brother (Bharata); on the other, there was the stronger claim of obedience to his lord.

He could neither go and greet his brother (Bharata), nor ignore him; only a skilled poet could describe the state of Lakshmana’s mind. Considering that the side of service was the weightier, he stood where he was, like a kite-flier who pulls down his kite that has risen high in the air.

Bowing his head to the ground, he said affectionately, ‘Bharata is making obeisance to you, O Raghunatha.’ As soon as he heard these words, Rama started up in affectionate haste, and down in all directions dropped his robe, his quiver, his arrows and his bow.

The all-compassionate Lord raised him up perforce and clasped him to his bosom. Everyone who witnessed the meeting of Bharata and Rama lost all consciousness of self.

How can such an affectionate meeting be described? It was inaccessibe to the poet in thought and word and deed. The two brothers overflowed with supreme affection, their mind, reason, understanding and their very selves having been all forgotten.

Tell me, who can express such wondrous love? By what shadow can the poet’s mind attain to it? The poet’s real strength lies in the theme to be worked on and the expression he uses; a dancer regulates his movements according to the rhythm of the accompanying music.

Inaccessible is the affection of Bharata and Raghunatha, beyond the conception even of Brahma (the Creator), Vishnu (the Protector) and Shiva (the destroyer). How, then, can I, a dull-witted man, express it? Can an instrument strung with gandara (a species of grass) produce sweet melody?