Sita, his wife, refused to be left behind. “The forest is no drier than a palace without you. Where Rama flows, Sita follows.” Lakshmana, the silent storm, coiled his bow and hissed, “And where Rama goes, I carve the path.”
Sita, his wife, refused to be left behind. “The forest is no drier than a palace without you. Where Rama flows, Sita follows.” Lakshmana, the silent storm, coiled his bow and hissed, “And where Rama goes, I carve the path.”