After Sita vanished forever, everyone expected Rama to remarry.

"Who will be his bride?" the people wondered. "Perhaps someone from Ayodhya!" said some. "Perhaps a princess from the south!" said others. "Or the north!" "Or the west!" "Or the east!" "A princess from a nearby kingdom!" "A princess from far away!"

But Rama refused to remarry.

His priests protested. "You must have a queen! You should have a queen by your side when you conduct the holy rituals."

"Sita is still my queen," said Rama, and he had a golden statue made of Sita, keeping that statue by his side.

Some say that Rama had a new golden statue of Sita made for every sacred ritual. Then, after each ritual, the golden statue would be installed in a special temple.

One day Rama went to visit the temple, and the golden statues of Sita all called out to him. "Husband!" they cried. "Husband! Who will take care of us when you depart this earth?"

"I will see you again," Rama promised, "and we will be reunited in love during my next lifetime."

In his next lifetime, Rama would return as Krishna, and the golden statues would be Krishna's beloved gopis.

An old brahmin came to Rama, carrying his dead child. "This is your fault!" he said to Rama. "Things are out of control. My son has died before me."

Not sure what to do, Rama sought advice from Narada. "There is a low-born man practicing austerities in the forest," Narada said. "He is a shudra, the lowest caste, and a shudra should not aspire to gain heaven by practicing austerities. His name is Shambuka, and you must stop him."

Rama found Shambuka in the forest and beheaded him.

At that very instant, the dead brahmin boy came back to life.

Once when Rama entered Ayodhya, Hanuman glimpsed Yama, God of Death, lurking in the crowd. Hanuman lashed his tail on the ground in warning.

Death fled in fear.

Then Kala, God of Time, came to Rama. "Let no one disturb us," Rama ordered Lakshmana. "Whoever disturbs us must die."

Meanwhile, the rishi Durvasa arrived. "I must see Rama!" he said.

"Please wait," said Lakshmana.

"I shall curse Rama, his sons, and his kingdom!" shouted Durvasa.

To save the kingdom, Lakshmana let Durvasa in.

"Lakshmana must die," said Kala.

Thus Lakshmana departed for the Sarayu river, and he beheaded himself there.

After Lakshmana's death, Rama went to the river every day and wept for his brother.

There was also a monk who came to the river. Rama saw him fill his watering can and then pour the water over a large rock. The monk did this every day.

"That rock is not a plant," Rama told him. "It can't grow or produce fruit. So why do you water the rock?"

"Why do you shed tears for your brother?" replied the monk.

Rama then understood that his weeping served no more purpose than watering a rock, and he set his grief aside.

Rama dropped his ring, and it fell through a crack.

"I'll get it!" shouted Hanuman.

He jumped down through the crack into the land of the nagas, and they took Hanuman to Vasuki, their king.

"I seek Rama's ring," said Hanuman.

Vasuki offered Hanuman a platter of rings: hundreds of identical rings!

"Which one is Rama's?" asked Hanuman.

"They all are," Vasuki explained. "There have been as many Ramas as there are rings. When a Rama incarnation ends, his ring falls down. By now, your Rama will have departed."

Hanuman rushed back to Ayodhya.

What Vasuki had said was true.

After Lakshmana departed, Rama was overcome by grief. "Bharata will now be king," he declared.

Bharata, however, refused. "I have no wish for the kingdom without you in it," he said. "You should crown Kusha and Lava instead."

So the boys became the kings of Ayodhya, and Rama left the city. His bow and his arrow took on human form and walked with him. His brothers Bharata and Shatrughna followed, along with all the people of Ayodhya.

Rama stepped into the Sarayu river, and the devas applauded. "Welcome, Rama!" they shouted. "Come, Vishnu!"

So Vishnu returned at last to heaven.

The royal painter decorated the palace walls with Ramayana murals. Tenalirama scoffed. "Where's the rest of Lakshmana?" he asked, pointing to one figure.

"That's a profile!" replied the painter. "You have to imagine the rest."

"I will decorate the summer palace with my own Ramayana paintings!" boasted Tenalirama.

A month later, he was done. The king came to see ... and there were only noses. Everywhere! Noses painted all over the walls!

"What is this?" he shouted angrily.

"Well, this is Rama, of course. And Sita, Lakshmana..." Tenalirama pointed out each nose one by one. "You have to imagine the rest."

A courtesan invited Tenalirama to recite the Ramayana, the epic story of Rama's adventures, just for her.

Tenalirama began with the story of King Dasharatha and Rama's birth, followed by the intrigue in King Dasharatha's court, then Rama's exile into the forest, accompanied by his devoted wife Sita and his loyal brother Lakshmana.

"So," he said, "Rama, accompanied by Sita and Lakshmana, went into the forest to begin their exile."

Then Tenalirama fell silent.

The courtesan waited, and finally she could wait no longer. "Then what happened?" she demanded.

"Be patient," said Tenalirama. "They are still walking through the forest."

The world's maya is like a magician's magic. The magician is real; the magic isn't. The illusion lasts for only a moment.

Shiva was sitting atop Mount Kailasha with his bull Nandi. Suddenly, a loud shout reverberated through the air and the earth shook.

"What was that?" asked Nandi.

"Ravana is born," replied Shiva.

A few minutes later there was more shouting and the earth quaked.

"What was that?" asked Nandi again.

"Ravana is dead," replied Shiva, smiling.

Birth and death are like bubbles in water; the water is real, but the bubbles arising from the water appear and disappear.