From the depths of his despondency that he had sunk into, Rama sighed deeply as he tried to make Lakshmana understand his abject misery. "There is no greater sinner than me on this earth. How can you otherwise explain the series of tragic events? Misfortunes haunt me and calamities have befallen me. These memories increase my sorrow, which which I had forgotten in this sylvan serenity. With Sita's disappearance grief once again looms large like a fire rekindled into a blaze from dying embers! Its heat scorches me! Sita must have wept bitterly as the rakshasa carried her away. The soft voice of my beloved is now silenced forever. Yet I continue to live." Having sought information from all that lived or moved on earth, Rama looked up to the skies and asked of the Sun "Lord, you from whom the creatures of the world can hide neither their sins nor their virtues, tell me of Sita? Is she lost or stolen, or is she on her way here? Tell me Lord of the Winds who are all pervading, have you seen Sita?" Rama's questions were all met with silence, his grief could not be quelled and he fell into a faint! Lakshmana rushed to him gently saying, "Give up this grief Rama. Men of spirit do not allow themselves to be cowed down even in the face of great calamities."