Rama Teaches Lakshmana About Anger

They had walked for hours through thorny terrain, their food supplies low, rain threatening. Lakshmana finally stopped, his face contorted with frustration.

"How much longer, Rama? We live like beggars while usurpers enjoy our palace! Sita sleeps on the ground while servants sleep in soft beds! Where is the justice in this?"

Rama found a dry spot under a large tree and sat. "Come, brother. Let us rest and talk about what truly troubles you."

"What troubles me? Everything! The injustice, the waste of our lives, the—"

"The anger," Rama finished gently. "What truly troubles you is the anger eating at your heart. Am I wrong?"

Lakshmana sat heavily. "And why should I not be angry? Anger is the appropriate response to injustice!"

"Appropriate, perhaps. But useful? That is another question entirely."

"You speak as if anger is harmful. It gives me energy, keeps me sharp..."

Rama picked up a stick and drew in the dirt. "Anger is like fire, Lakshmana. Controlled, it cooks our food and lights our way. Uncontrolled, it burns our house down while we stand inside."

"I am not uncontrolled!"

"Then tell me: when you are angry, do you think more clearly or less clearly? Do you make better decisions or worse ones? Does your anger hurt those who wronged us, or does it only hurt you?"

Lakshmana was silent, his breathing still heavy but beginning to slow.

Rama continued: "Father once told me that anger is the enemy disguised as a friend. It whispers that it will give us power, but it takes away our peace. It promises revenge, but it delivers only suffering - to us, not to our enemies."

"But surely a warrior must have fire in his heart..."

"Fire, yes. But fire that burns on command, not fire that burns out of control. A warrior who cannot master his anger is like a sword without a wielder - dangerous, but ultimately useless."

"Then how do I feel this injustice without feeling anger?"

Rama's eyes softened. "You feel it, Lakshmana. You acknowledge it. And then you ask: does my anger change this situation? If yes, express it constructively. If no - and usually it is no - then let it pass through you like water through a net. Hold onto the clarity that remains after the anger dissolves."

"It is easier said than done."

"Everything worthwhile is. But here is the secret: anger requires constant fuel. Stop feeding it with thoughts of injustice, and it starves. Replace those thoughts with purpose. We are not wandering aimlessly in these forests - we are fulfilling dharma. We are not victims - we are servants of a higher law. When you frame our situation this way, what happens to the anger?"

Lakshmana took a deep breath. "It... it becomes smaller."

"Because it was built on the story of victimhood. Change the story, and the emotion built on it changes too. We are not powerless exiles, Lakshmana. We are chosen instruments of dharma. That is not something to be angry about - it is something to be honored by."

The rain began to fall, but neither brother moved. Something was shifting in Lakshmana - not the erasure of anger, but its transformation into something stronger and more useful.