Now hear, all of you, the story that follows, told well. Children of his own age came to the house looking for Hari.
They came and said to his brother: "Where has Hari Maharaj gone? We have been searching since morning, but have not found him today.
Wherever we went, we searched every place; nowhere did we find Nilkanth. We have searched greatly for Ghanshyam."
Hearing this, his brother and sister-in-law felt a pang of fear in their hearts. Even until sunset he did not return. "Where could merciful Hari be?"
Then night fell. Watching for their brother, their hearts could not stay steady; they wept aloud. The sister-in-law lost bodily awareness upon hearing this; overcome with love, she fell to the ground.
Then she rose and said in her own words: "Let us search the town for our lord and bring him home. His father-in-law (referring to Dharmadev) had entrusted him to my care -
and until evening I took no note of him." Realizing this, both of them trembled with grief; they forgot all thought of food and drink.
His younger brother Ichcharam wept within the house; both brothers fell into an ocean of grief. "To whom shall I tell the story of my misfortune?
Our mother left this body in our childhood. We thought, 'Nilkanth will cherish and pamper us' - and now he too has gone somewhere; when will he return?"
Then everyone set out to search, tears flowing from their eyes uncontrollably. They searched the whole town - the marketplaces, the streets - they searched every lane and house, looking again and again.
They searched the crossroads, the squares, the temples, and the upper floors; they searched the balconies, terraces, and lattice windows, the verandas, courtyards, and open yards.
Searching thus, the night passed, but the Lord was not found. They searched all the fields, the forests, the gardens, the banks of lakes and rivers, calling out and crying aloud:
"Brother, taking our very life-breath with you, where have you gone, to whom? You have given us such sorrow - how has no compassion come to you?
As Dasharath suffered sorrow because of Raghunath (Ram) - so you too have done to us today, O Nilkanth, our lord.
Our lives will end, and only then will you return? People will speak ill of us, calling us heartless." So the brother imagined, remembering his brother.
"Nilkanth is not one to be so easily forgotten." The sister-in-law too grew sorrowful with grief at her brother-in-law's absence.
"How can I keep my heart calm? His form has fixed itself in my mind; my body burns with anguish." The sister-in-law, within her own mind, recalled his features one by one:
"The lines rising upward on both his feet - their imprint must be falling upon the road. On his toes are lines that shine upon his fingers - I imagine them like rows of red gems, his nails.
His feet marked with such signs, with slender heels - when I see my lord again, I shall recognize him by these very marks.
His calves, knees, and thighs - beholding these, and his navel, I need not ask anyone else to know him. Three folds fall upon his belly; his chest is like a young tamal tree - how could I forget these?
His chin, and within his mouth, his rows of teeth shine beyond measure - I think of them like the buds of a pomegranate. Near his nose is a mole, and on his left cheek -
by these two signs, and by the hair upon his head... His tender, beautiful eyes, impossible to hide even if hidden; whose glance, when it falls in a frown, makes even Death himself tremble within.
There is a mole on his left ear, and his forehead shines beautifully upon his dark-hued face. Such is my brother - do not hide him from me!
Show me my very life-breath! No one else comes close to matching him; he is recognized among millions, even without asking.
Let no yogi or ascetic lead him astray, thinking him merely an innocent child - do not let him be deceived. Whoever among men or women encounters him,
tell him to go home - his household grieves for him!" Nilkanth was not found, and they became exceedingly sorrowful; then they returned home, disheartened and dejected.
They walked with hands on their hips, stumbling; tears flowed from their eyes, overwhelmed with sorrow. Then, having returned home, his virtues still stung their hearts; the cooked food remained untouched, and sleep would not come.
Everyone longed for him, remembering Shyam (Hari); Ghanshyam had gone, leaving the whole village stricken with grief.
The sister-in-law, within the house, searching for some sign of him, could find no peace in her heart; her mind wavered as she looked about.
"His turban lies unworn, his upper garment untaken; he has gone with bare feet, without even his sandals.
Thorns and pebbles will prick my brother's feet - and when hunger strikes him, who will there be to ask after him?"
So the brother and sister-in-law imagined in their minds: "We know, our life (Hari), you have gone into the forest.
Wolves, monkeys, and tigers dwell in the forest - we fear for you, father, in our hearts. And bears too, and nilgai and leopards,
buffaloes and elephants, and wild boars truly dwell in the forest. Ghosts, spirits, demons, and demonesses, and forest-dwelling tribal folk and dark-skinned wild men dwell there too.
The forest must be forbidding, dense with trees; great waterfalls must be falling from tall mountains.
Seeing such a forest, even ordinary people would falter with fear - you must be afraid too, father; come back home again!"
Thus the brother and sister-in-law lamented, but who was there to hear, now that their beloved had gone into the forest? Family and relations, all defeated with weeping -
whom did this attachment not overcome, save the one free from attachment himself? He knew now that all his kin and companions were as if they had never been, even in a dream; setting aside all such thought, detachment arose within him.
Thus the beloved one took the difficult forest path; the Lord of Nishkulanand did not heed the cries of his family.
Thus in the Bhaktachintamani, composed by Nishkulanand Muni, disciple of Shri Sahajanand Swami, the establisher of the exclusive path of devotion, ends the twenty-seventh chapter, named "Shreeji Maharaj's Departure from Home, and the Rite of Tilanjali (Water Offering) Performed for Him Afterward."