In plain words
Grant lakṣmī!’ If that Lakṣmī whom the whole world adores is to choose You, what greatness there is in You! Are all these ordinary? How subtle of understanding Bharata is! Tyāgarāja too says: ‘If there were nothing, why would so many worship? So, O Rāma! Your power is very great indeed!’ We send no invitation to anyone. This very power, that magnet, that very divine nature, that very sacredness, that very Divinity draws everything. Hanumān brought it. The installation was over. They were coming back.
Whether on the Bull or on the Eagle, the Two Are One!
Śrī Rāma took His delight precisely in testing Hanumān. As they were coming along, Rāma fell, as though something had struck His foot and He had tripped. He made as if a small stone there had caught His foot and He had fallen. Lakṣmaṇa was just behind. ‘Brother! What is it?’ he asked. ‘It is nothing. A small stone,’ He said. Hanumān came up. ‘If anyone else walks along this path, it will trouble them; I will pull this stone out and throw it away,’ he said. ‘Hanumantā! For you, who carried mountains, what is this pebble? Leave it; do not meddle with it. Another time I shall come along carefully. It is not the stone's fault,’ said Rāma. ‘No, it must be taken out,’ Hanumān insisted. That was the vāsanā of his birth. The monkey is a byword for restlessness. He tried to remove it with his left hand. It did not move. Then he took hold of it with both hands. It did not move. He used all his strength. It did not move even a little. Hanumān was greatly astonished. ‘Rāma! What līlās of Yours are these!’ Then, ‘It is nothing, Hanumā! You need not trouble yourself,’ and Rāma Himself went like this with the little toe of His foot. Up flew the stone and fell away. What was it? The liṅga that Hanumān had brought that day for the installation and thrown away. From that liṅga a light came forth and merged in Rāma. From Rāma a light went forth and merged in the liṅga. The two are one! He who rides the bull is Liṅgaḍu. He who rides the eagle is Raṅgaḍu.