In plain words
But what does the hopeful man think? He thinks, “Half of it is water; that is enough.” The despairing man sees the half as empty. The hopeful man sees the half as water. The hopeful man sees the rose; the despairing man sees the thorns. The hopeful man invents the aeroplane. The despairing man invents the parachute. When the hopeful man looks to travel by plane, the despairing man, thinking, “What if we fall out of it?”, invents a parachute for it. So both the hopeful man and the despairing man are of use to the world. The hopeful man always lifts his head and looks at the stars. The despairing man bows his head and looks only at the earth. Every human being must become hopeful. Hopeful of what? Not hopes of the world. Hope of the Ātma. In Laṅkā too there were rākṣasas who searched for the Ātma in this way. In Ayodhyā everyone appeared to be a devotee, everyone a great renouncer. But even in so sacred a city as Ayodhyā there were people of small mind who looked for faults even in God. This washerman managed to have Sītā sent to the forest only by looking for a fault in Rāma, did he not? “Rāma has shamelessly brought back Sītā, who stayed ten months in Laṅkā. I would not accept my wife like that,” he said. Hanumān recognised the difference between asūyā and Anasūyā. Hanumān was no ordinary person. He had great virtues. He had great strength. Hanumān is the one who recognised this Rāma principle well.
The second person who recognised this Rāma principle well was Sumitrā. The third was Viśvāmitra. These three alone understood well the principle of Sītā and Rāma. Even Kausalyā, who is the sattva guṇa, did not understand Rāma rightly. When Rāma was going to the forest she wept floods of tears. Poor Kausalyā, unable to let Rāma go, gave up food and drink. But Sumitrā did not do so. She sent her son Lakṣmaṇa with Rāma. “My son! Not everyone understands the Rāma principle. Ayodhyā without Rāma is a forest to us; the forest where Rāma is, is Ayodhyā to you; let there be no lapse in your service to Rāma; take it as service to your mother and father, and go,” she said. “Rāma is no ordinary man. He is Nārāyaṇa Himself, my son!” she taught Lakṣmaṇa. You are a part of Him.
The reason is this: when Daśaratha began the putrakāmeṣṭi yāga, a vessel of pāyasa, the very form of God's grace, came from it. Vasiṣṭha divided this pāyasa into two parts. Kausalyā was the chief queen. Kaikā was the one dearest to him. That is why he shared it out in portions to these two alone. The reason is that Daśaratha had sworn to the king of Kekaya, “I will crown the son born to Kaikā.” If the chief queen had a son, the chief queen's son would have to be crowned. If a son were born to Kaikā or to Kausalyā, he had a chance of becoming king, but Sumitrā's sons had no chance at all. In those days there was great Prema and closeness even among co-wives. Seeing Sumitrā's grief, Kausalyā put in half of her portion and Kaikā half of hers, and they gave it to Sumitrā too.