In the next verse Vyāsa describes a defining trait of great poets. He intends this as a lodestar of sorts of his work:
इतिहासप्रदीपेन मोहावरणघातिना।
लोकगर्भगृहं कृत्स्नं यथावत् संप्रकाशितम्॥ (१.९६.१०३, Kumbhakonam edition)
The great lamp of itihāsa dispels darkness in the form of stupor, ignorance, delusion. It illuminates the inner core of the world and shows it as it is.
2. Next Gomukha started narrating the story of Kumudikā:-
अवारणीयं रिपुभिर्-वारणीयं करं नुमः |
हेरम्बस्य ससिन्दूरम्-असिन्दूरम्-अघच्छिदं ||
avāraṇīyaṃ ripubhir-vāraṇīyaṃ karaṃ numaḥ |
herambasya sasindūram-asindūram-aghacchidaṃ ||
Let us pray to the trunk of elephant-faced Gaṇeśa, which his enemies find unopposable!
It is red lustred due to the sindūra and destroys all pāpas.
पायाद्-वः पुरदाहाय शंभोः संदधतः शरं |
While ‘kapālin’ is taken in literal sense before the word Pāṇigrahaṇa which literally just means holding hands is turned to the other meaning, taking one’s hand in marriage derived by lakṣaṇa is utilised while Satyasoma accuses Nāgasena in public when he first helps Devasomā to get up. There is also a suggestion that Satyasoma still couldn’t trust Devasomā completely since she has already betrayed Babhrukalpa before. Also notice that Nāgasena is being tested in the two things which are forbidden for him and he betrays his failure in both those things.
In these verses Vyāsa has succinctly described the central focus of his poem and the nature of its characters. This is the way of great poets: they present the essence of the story upfront and then go on to narrate how it evolves. Lesser poets present the story in bits and pieces, intending to keep the readers hooked till the end. They sometimes stretch this technique to extreme limits, thus stripping the story of suggestive value and rendering it less enjoyable. A work bereft of poetic suggestion does not invite readers to revisit it.
As Nala was wandering through the forest wearing the cloth torn in half, he saw a forest fire. He heard a voice calling out for help from within it – “O Noble soul! The forest fire is consuming me – I might die in the fire! Please rescue me from here!” When he looked in the direction of the cry, he saw a snake curled around, fallen there. He picked it up and carried it on his shoulder. As he was walking, the snake said – “count ten footsteps from here and drop me at a spot”. Nala started counting – “ekaṃ dve trīṇi catvāri …..
Rāma savoured the recital amid a large group of literary aficionados: sa cāpi rāmaḥ pariṣadgataḥ (1.4.36). This is arguably the best way to appreciate art because people with a refined aesthetic sense assist one another in discovering newer and newer subtleties, thus raising the level of overall enjoyment.
Carrying with him the message of the deities, Nala entered the inner apartments of Damayantī and repeated the command of the deities. She heard those words and said, “Let the deities be how they are! Even so, Nala is my husband. I have no need for these deities!” Following this Nala introduced himself and then returned to Indra and the others; he narrated to them everything that had transpired. They said, “O noble one! You are an honest man and so we are at your beck and call. Just think of us and we shall be present at your service.” Nala then went on to Vidarbha.
After gaining some composure he decides that bowl should have been taken by either a dog or a buddhist monk. While the comparison of a buddhist monk to a dog might seem preposterous, Satyasoma has his reasons which is the presence of roasted meat! This passage already hints at the kind of degeneracy which had crept in which is confirmed by the entry of Nāgasena which happens immediately as if by cue. Also note that later there is also the mention of the dog along with Unmattaka.
Vālmīki was absorbed in thoughts about his verse when Brahmā visited him: tadgatenaiva manasā vālmīkirdhyānamāsthitaḥ (1.2.28). He was tormented by the impropriety in hunting the male bird and the consequent anguish caused to its companion. Here is a poet mulling over the incident that inspires his poetry. If worldly events do not evoke such a profound response in a writer, they cannot inspire poetry. In its highest reaches, poetry is the emotional outpour of an inspired poet, bypassing conscious thought.
Brahmā put an end to Vālmīki’s perturbation: