अयोध्याकाण्ड
Ayodhyākāṇḍa forms the Ramayana’s decisive ethical and political turning point: the public promise of Rāma’s consecration (yauvarājya) collapses into exile (vanavāsa) through the collision of royal dharma, private desire, and the binding force of speech. The opening sargas construct an idealized civic and ritual atmosphere—assemblies, preparations, auspicious omens, and the city’s festive ornamentation—while simultaneously foregrounding Rāma’s exemplary temper (kṣamā, self-restraint, gratitude). The narrative then pivots through Mantharā’s persuasion of Kaikeyī and the activation of Daśaratha’s earlier boons, producing a tragic chain: the king’s moral paralysis, Rāma’s unhesitating obedience, Sītā’s insistence on accompanying him, and Lakṣmaṇa’s fierce loyalty moderated by Rāma’s commitment to non-violence and social order. The book’s middle movement is marked by public lament and ominous portents, culminating in the departure from Ayodhyā and the transition from palace to wilderness—banks of the Tamasā and Gaṅgā, Guha’s hospitality, Bharadvāja’s āśrama, and settlement at Citrakūṭa. Parallel to the forest-journey runs Ayodhyā’s internal collapse: Daśaratha’s remorse, his confession of the earlier “śabdavedhin” sin, and his death, followed by interregnum anxieties and the summoning of Bharata. Bharata’s return, repudiation of Kaikeyī, and refusal to usurp Rāma intensify the text’s meditation on legitimacy and renunciation. In the Southern Recension (IIT Kanpur), additional traditional verses often expand scenes of ritual detail, lamentation, and moral reflection, reinforcing the kanda’s function as the epic’s primary treatise on the costs and authority of dharma within kingship across the Adi-kāvya’s 24,000-verse architecture.
Daśaratha announces Rāma’s coronation; Ayodhyā prepares in joy. Mantharā incites Kaikeyī to demand two boons: Bharata’s enthronement and Rāma’s fourteen-year exile. Bound by promise, Daśaratha yields; Rāma accepts without protest, Sītā insists on accompanying him, and Lakṣmaṇa follows. Amid public grief and ominous signs, the trio departs, meets Guha, crosses the Gaṅgā, and receives guidance from Bharadvāja, settling at Citrakūṭa. In Ayodhyā, Daśaratha dies in remorse; ministers summon Bharata, who condemns Kaikeyī, rejects the throne, and sets out to bring Rāma back, carrying coronation materials toward the forest.
गुणप्रशंसा–युवराजनिर्णयः (Praise of Rama’s Virtues and the Decision on the Heir-Apparent)
Sarga 1 opens with Bharata departing to his maternal uncle’s house, accompanied by Śatrughna, and both brothers residing there with affectionate hospitality while remembering their aged father. The narrative then pivots to an extended ethical portrait of Rāma: serenity under provocation, gratitude, truthfulness, reverence for elders and brāhmaṇas, compassion, self-restraint, discernment, and mastery of learning, debate, and martial disciplines. Through a tightly structured catalogue of virtues—reinforced by cosmological similes (earth-like forbearance, Bṛhaspati-like intelligence, Indra-like prowess)—the sarga frames Rāma as an ideal public figure beloved by subjects and suited to governance. Observing these qualities and sensing ominous portents alongside his own aging, Daśaratha consults ministers and resolves to appoint Rāma as yuvarāja. The chapter concludes with the king summoning regional rulers and leading citizens into an assembly, visually likened to Indra surrounded by devas, thereby formalizing the political stage for the coronation initiative.
यौवराज्य-प्रस्तावः (Proposal for Rāma’s Installation as Heir-Apparent)
In the royal assembly, Daśaratha invites the full council and addresses allied kings with a deep, resonant, dignified voice. He frames his intent as welfare-oriented statecraft: having ruled vigilantly in the ancestral manner and feeling the weariness of age and the burden of dharma, he seeks rest by entrusting governance to his eldest son. He praises Rāma’s inherited virtues and proposes the auspicious timing of Puṣya for the yauvarājya. Requesting consent and even alternative counsel for the kingdom’s good, he invites deliberation. The gathered rulers and the public respond with acclaim, and a reverberant joy fills the palace. Brāhmaṇas, prominent citizens, and inhabitants of towns and villages deliberate to unanimity and urge immediate coronation. They then present an extended virtue-catalogue: Rāma’s truthfulness, self-mastery, compassion, rhetorical restraint, martial competence, concern for citizens, and capacity for universal rule. The chapter closes with a collective petition that Daśaratha install Rāma promptly for the welfare of the realm and the world.
यौवराज्याभिषेक-उपकल्पनम् (Preparations for Rama’s Installation as Yuvaraja)
अस्मिन् सर्गे प्रजाजनाः अञ्जलिपद्म-प्रणामेन दशरथं यौवराज्याभिषेकाय प्रेरयन्ति; राजा प्रियहित-वचोभिः प्रत्यर्चयति (2.3.1–2.3.2)। ततः दशरथः वसिष्ठं वामदेवं च ब्राह्मण-समक्षं विधि-व्यवस्थापनाय नियोजयति, चैत्रमासस्य पुण्यत्वं निर्दिश्य ‘रामस्य यौवराज्याय सर्वमुपकल्प्यताम्’ इति राजाज्ञां घोषयति (2.3.4–2.3.6)। वसिष्ठः अमात्य-युक्तान् आदेशयति—अग्न्यागार-स्थाने सुवर्ण-रत्न-औषधि-शुक्लमाल्य-लाजा-मधु-घृत-वासांसि, रथ-आयुध-चतुरङ्गबल-शुभलक्षण-गज, चामर-ध्वज-छत्र, शातकुम्भ-कुम्भ-शत, हिरण्यशृङ्ग-ऋषभ, व्याघ्रचर्म इत्यादि समुपस्थापयितव्यानि (2.3.8–2.3.11)। नगर-द्वारालङ्कारः चन्दनस्रग्भिः, धूपैः; द्विजभोजन-दान-दक्षिणा-व्यवस्था; स्वस्तिवाचन-निमन्त्रण-आसन-कल्पना; राजमार्ग-सिञ्चन, पताका-बंधन, नाट्य-ताला-आवचर-गणिका-व्यवस्था; देवायतन-चैत्येषु पृथक्-उपस्थापनम्; योधानां सन्नद्ध-प्रवेशः—इति ‘राज्याभिषेक’स्य सार्वजनिक-धार्मिक-प्रशासनिक-समन्वयः प्रत्यक्षीकृतः (2.3.12–2.3.19)। क्रिया-समाप्तौ वसिष्ठ-वामदेवौ ‘कृतम्’ इति राज्ञे निवेदयतः (2.3.20–2.3.21)। ततः सुमन्त्रः रामम् आनयति; विविध-देशीय-भूमिपाः दशरथं देवा इव वासवं उपासते (2.3.22–2.3.26)। रामस्य आगमनं विस्तरेण रूप-गुण-वर्णनैः प्रदर्श्यते; दशरथः पुत्रं आलिङ्ग्य आसनं ददाति; ततः पुष्ययोगे यौवराज्य-प्राप्तिं वदन् राजोपदेशं ददाति—इन्द्रियनिग्रहः, कामक्रोध-त्यागः, अमात्य-प्रकृति-रञ्जनम्, कोष्ठागार-आयुधागार-सञ्चयः, मित्र-तोषः इत्यादि (2.3.27–2.3.45)। अन्ते राममित्राः कौसल्यां सूचयन्ति; सा दूतान् दानैः सत्करोति; रामः राजानं नमस्कृत्य स्वगृहं प्रतियाति; पौराः देवपूजां कुर्वन्ति (2.3.46–2.3.49)।
अयोध्याकाण्डे चतुर्थः सर्गः — Rāma Summoned; Pushya Coronation Decision
After the citizens depart, Daśaratha reconvenes counsel with ministers and fixes a decisive state action: Rāma’s installation as yuvarāja is to occur immediately, timed to the auspicious Pushya nakṣatra. Sumantra is dispatched to bring Rāma; the repeated summons produces apprehension in Rāma, indicating the court’s gravity and the volatility of palace affairs. In a private audience, Daśaratha receives Rāma with affection and then frames his rationale: having fulfilled life’s aims and ritual obligations, he sees only one remaining duty—Rāma’s consecration. He cites public desire (prakṛti-icchā) for Rāma’s rule, but also introduces a second, urgent register: ominous dreams and astrological affliction of his natal star by formidable grahas (Sun, Mars, Rāhu), suggesting impending danger to the king. This convergence of public mandate, auspicious timing, and ominous portents yields a policy of haste: coronate before the mind wavers and before destabilizing contingencies arise. Daśaratha prescribes preparatory vrata—fasting, sleeping on darbha grass, vigilance by friends—and notes Bharata’s absence as a favourable window, while still warning about the fickleness of human minds. Rāma, permitted to depart, immediately informs Kauśalyā; she is shown in devotional practice (prāṇāyāma meditation on Janārdana/Viṣṇu). Joyful blessings follow, and Rāma shares the prospective royal fortune with Lakṣmaṇa, emphasizing fraternal co-governance and inner solidarity, before returning with Sītā.
अभिषेकोपवास-आदेशः (Coronation Preparations and the Fast Enjoined)
Sarga 5 documents the procedural and ritual mechanics preceding Rama’s intended yauvarājya-abhiṣeka. King Daśaratha, after instructing Rama regarding the imminent coronation, summons the purohita Vasiṣṭha and commissions him to direct Rama and Sita to undertake an upavāsa (fast) with mantra-accompaniment as a prosperity- and legitimacy-securing observance. Vasiṣṭha proceeds in a brahmin-appropriate chariot to Rama’s residence, is received with formal honor, and communicates the king’s affectionate intention to coronate Rama at dawn, analogizing the act to Nahuṣa’s coronation of Yayāti. Rama accepts the instruction with humility; Vasiṣṭha ritually initiates the fast and departs. The narrative then widens to civic phenomenology: Ayodhyā’s streets are washed, banners raised, and the royal highways become densely crowded with curious citizens whose collective sound is compared to the sea. Vasiṣṭha returns through the throngs to the palace, meets the king, confirms completion of the mission, and the court rises in reverence. Daśaratha, permitted by his preceptor, dismisses the assembly and enters the inner apartments, described through luminous similes (moon among stars), underscoring the night-before-ceremony intensity.
रामाभिषेकपूर्वसज्जा — Preparations for Rama’s Coronation
Sarga 6 presents a dual-focus tableau: (1) Rāma’s private ritual discipline and (2) Ayodhyā’s public mobilization for the impending yuvarājābhiṣeka. After Vasiṣṭha departs, Rāma bathes, approaches Nārāyaṇa, and performs fire-offerings (ājya-homa) according to rite, then partakes of the remaining havis and observes silence while meditating in Viṣṇu’s auspicious shrine, resting on kuśa-grass with Sītā. Rising in the final watch of night, he orders full decoration of his residence, attends the dawn observances, and listens to Brahmins reciting purificatory mantras; auspicious proclamations (puṇyāha) mingle with trumpet-sounds across the city. The narrative then widens to civic space: citizens begin decorating at daybreak, raising banners and flags on temples, crossroads, streets, towers, marketplaces, homes, and assembly halls; performers and singers animate the soundscape; adults and children alike converse about the coronation. Highways are strewn with flowers and perfumed with incense, and lamp-trees are arranged to ensure illumination should night fall. Villagers arrive from all directions to witness the event, filling Ayodhyā with ocean-like roar; groups gather in squares and halls praising Daśaratha’s decision to install the virtuous, learned, non-arrogant Rāma as protector-king.
मन्थराप्रवेशः — Manthara Observes Ayodhya and Incites Kaikeyi
Sarga 7 stages the catalytic transition from public celebration to private manipulation. Mantharā, Kaikeyī’s long-attendant family servant, casually ascends a moon-bright palace and surveys Ayodhyā prepared for a major royal rite: roads sprinkled, flowers strewn, flags raised, temples resonant with Vedic chant and instruments, and crowds rejoicing. She interrogates a nearby royal maid (dhātrī) about the city’s exuberance; the maid, bursting with joy, announces that King Daśaratha will consecrate the blameless Rāma as yuvarāja on the next day under the Puṣya nakṣatra. The news triggers Mantharā’s fury; she descends from the Kailāsa-like palace and confronts Kaikeyī, who lies at ease. Mantharā deploys coercive rhetoric—warnings of imminent danger, claims of unstable fortune, and accusations of deceitful statecraft—to induce despondency and reframe the coronation as Kaikeyī’s ruin (and Bharata’s). Kaikeyī initially responds with concern and then with delight at the prospect of Rāma’s consecration, even gifting Mantharā an ornament for the “good tidings,” revealing her initial lack of rivalry between Rāma and Bharata. The chapter’s thematic lesson is the power of speech (vāk) as political instrument: public dharma-rituals can be overturned by private persuasion and fear-based narrative control.
मन्थराकैकेयीसंवादः — Mantharā’s Counsel to Kaikeyī (Ayodhyā’s Succession Alarm)
Sarga 8 is a tightly argued persuasion scene in which Mantharā reframes the imminent yuvarājya-abhiṣeka of Rāma as an existential threat to Kaikeyī and Bharata. The episode opens with Mantharā’s visible rupture of courtly reciprocity: she discards the ornament gifted to her, signaling refusal of appeasement and the start of strategic admonition. Mantharā accuses Kaikeyī of misplaced joy, repeatedly invoking the metaphor of an ‘ocean of sorrow’ to reposition celebration as impending loss. She advances a political thesis: succession will consolidate around Rāma and then Rāma’s son, excluding Bharata; shared royal power is portrayed as administratively impossible. To intensify urgency, she predicts Kaikeyī’s servitude to Kausalyā and Bharata’s deprivation, exile, or worse, arguing that proximity and factional alignments (Lakṣmaṇa with Rāma; Śatrughna with Bharata) determine protection and peril. Kaikeyī, initially praising Rāma’s virtues—dharmajña, self-restrained, grateful, truthful—fails to accept Mantharā’s alarm, prompting Mantharā to renew her warnings with sharper forecasts of disgrace. The sarga functions as a rhetorical blueprint for how emotion is weaponized into policy, preparing the ground for the demand of boons and the reversal of the coronation plan.
मन्थराप्रेरणा—वरद्वय-स्मरणं च (Manthara’s Provocation and the Recalling of Two Boons)
Sarga 9 stages a decisive rhetorical turn: Kaikeyī, initially receptive to Mantharā’s insinuations, shifts into anger and resolve, declaring an immediate plan to send Rāma to the forest and install Bharata. Mantharā then reframes past history as actionable leverage, recounting the daivāsura war in which Daśaratha, assisting Indra, was twice protected by Kaikeyī and consequently granted her two deferred boons. Mantharā’s counsel becomes procedural: Kaikeyī should enter the krodhāgāra (chamber of wrath), discard ornaments, lie on the bare ground, refuse to look at or speak with the king, and demand (1) Bharata’s abhiṣeka and (2) Rāma’s fourteen-year exile. The sarga also records Kaikeyī’s praise of Mantharā—both strategic and extravagant—along with ornate physical description and metaphors of “māyā” (deceptive stratagem), underscoring how persuasion converts an ‘anartha’ (harmful design) into an ‘artha-rūpa’ (apparently beneficial aim). The chapter thus maps the mechanics of courtly influence: memory, promise, emotional display, and the binding power of royal word.
क्रोधागारप्रवेशः — Entry into the Chamber of Wrath (Kaikeyī’s Protest)
Sarga 10 stages the immediate psychological and ceremonial rupture around Rāma’s impending abhiṣeka. Kaikeyī, after being perversely urged by Mantharā, resolves upon a strategy, discards ornaments and garlands, and lies on the floor in the krōdhāgāra, described through striking similes (kinnarī, severed creeper, fallen apsaras) that encode both pathos and moral dissonance. Daśaratha, having ordered the coronation and learning it is publicly known, enters Kaikeyī’s richly adorned inner apartment—rendered in an extended inventory of palace aesthetics (birds, music, bowers, ivory-gold-silver furnishings, food offerings)—only to find her absent from the bed. A doorkeeper reports that the queen has rushed to the chamber of wrath; the king, seeking intimacy and reassurance, becomes increasingly distressed. He finds Kaikeyī lying in an unbecoming posture, caresses her, and questions whether she has been cursed or insulted, offering physicians, punishments or rewards, and even sweeping sovereign powers to remove her fear. The chapter ends with Kaikeyī, reassured of his pliability, preparing to articulate the “unpleasant” demand and to intensify her pressure, thereby turning ritual joy into a dharma-crisis driven by counsel, vow, and desire.
कैकेयीवरप्रार्थना — Kaikeyi Demands the Two Boons
Sarga 11 stages a decisive speech-act sequence in which Kaikeyī, seeing Daśaratha overtaken by desire, compels him into explicit oath-making and then converts that oath into irreversible political outcomes. Daśaratha repeatedly swears—invoking Rāma’s life and worth—assuring Kaikeyī that her wish will be fulfilled. Kaikeyī then escalates the formality of the pledge by calling cosmic and domestic witnesses (Sun, Moon, directions, planets, gandharvas, rākṣasas, household deities, and all beings), transforming a private promise into a quasi-public covenant. She recalls the earlier daivāsura war episode where she protected the king and received two boons “kept as deposits,” and she now claims them as due. The two demands are articulated with procedural precision: (1) Bharata is to be installed with the very materials prepared for Rāma’s consecration; (2) Rāma is to be sent to Daṇḍakāraṇya for fourteen years, living as an ascetic in bark, deer-skin, and matted hair. Kaikeyī frames the demand as a test of Daśaratha’s satya and lineage-protection, while the king—caught by his own words—appears as one who has stepped into a self-made snare.
द्वादशः सर्गः — Kaikeyi’s Boons and Dasaratha’s Moral Collapse (Ayodhya Kanda 12)
This sarga documents the immediate psychological and ethical rupture after Dasaratha hears Kaikeyi’s “dreadful words” demanding Rama’s forest-exile and Bharata’s installation. The king oscillates between disbelief (dream/hallucination), grief, and indignation, described through vivid similes (deer before tigress; serpent confined by mantra). He argues from Rama’s public virtues—truthfulness, charity, gentleness of speech, service to elders—and frames the demand as a breach of moral order within the Ikshvaku lineage. Kaikeyi counters with a jurisprudence of royal promise: boons once granted must be executed, else the king’s dharmic reputation collapses; she reinforces this with exempla of vow-keeping kings and with threats of self-harm. Dasaratha’s discourse then turns to social consequence (public censure, legitimacy crisis), familial devastation (Kausalya, Sumitra, Sita), and personal self-abasement (supplication at Kaikeyi’s feet). The chapter closes with his physical collapse, marking the transition from deliberation to irreversible tragedy-driven action.
अयोध्याकाण्डे त्रयोदशः सर्गः | Kaikeyi Presses the Boons; Dasaratha’s Lament and Collapse
Sarga 13 intensifies the courtroom-turned-private crisis: Daśaratha is depicted as prostrate and unaccustomed to humiliation, likened to King Yayāti fallen from heaven after exhausting merit—an image that frames the king’s moral and psychological descent. Kaikeyī, having achieved her immediate aim, repeatedly urges the promised boons with calculated affect (fear displayed, yet internally resolute). Daśaratha replies in anguish and indignation, defending Rāma’s virtues—beauty, strength, learning, self-control, forgiveness—and questions how exile to Daṇḍaka can be inflicted on one fit for happiness. He condemns Kaikeyī’s intent as cruel and foresees infamy and disgrace. Time itself becomes a narrative device: the sun sets, night arrives yet feels dark to the grieving king, who pleads with Night not to bring dawn, or to pass quickly so he need not see Kaikeyī. He then attempts appeasement with folded hands, urging Kaikeyī to grant favor and allow Rāma to receive the kingdom “through her,” promising her fame; she remains unmoved. Overcome by grief and repeated shock, Daśaratha faints and falls unconscious; the dreadful night passes amid his heaving sighs, and he even restrains the customary awakening by panegyrists, signaling a collapse of royal routine and order.
सत्यपाशः — Kaikeyi’s Demand and the Noose of the King’s Promise
Sarga 14 intensifies the coronation crisis through a tightly staged dialogue between Kaikeyī and Daśaratha, framed as a dharma-bound contract. Kaikeyī confronts the king lying senseless and writhing in grief, insisting that the promised boon must be fulfilled and threatening self-destruction if he reneges (2.14.10). Daśaratha is depicted as trapped like Bali in Indra’s noose (2.14.11), his body and mind destabilized by moral compulsion and sorrow. He responds with harsh repudiation and anticipates his own death rites, warning Kaikeyī and her son against performing the salila-kriyā if they obstruct Rāma’s abhiṣeka (2.14.14–17). Meanwhile, dawn arrives and the ritual machinery of coronation advances: Vasiṣṭha enters the palace with full ceremonial materials, and Ayodhyā is described as festively prepared—streets washed, garlanded, and perfumed with sandal and incense (2.14.25–30). Sumantra, unaware of the private catastrophe, praises the king in customary dawn-rousing idiom, only to trigger Daśaratha’s renewed grief (2.14.58–59). Kaikeyī then redirects Sumantra to summon Rāma, presenting the king as merely sleep-weary from joyful anticipation, thereby moving the plot toward Rāma’s formal confrontation with the demand.
अभिषेकसज्जा तथा सुमन्त्रस्य प्रेषणम् (Coronation Preparations and Sumantra’s Commission)
Sarga 15 documents the material and civic readiness for Rāma’s yuvarājābhiṣeka. Veda-versed brāhmaṇas and royal priests keep vigil and assemble at the consecration pavilion; ministers, army leaders, and guild chiefs gather joyfully. The auspicious astronomical timing is specified (Puṣya with Karkaṭaka lagna, aligned with Rāma’s natal constellation). Ritual and regal objects are enumerated: sacred waters drawn from Gaṅgā–Yamunā confluence, other rivers, lakes, wells, and the seas; gold and silver vessels with lotus adornments; honey, curds, ghee, milk, darbha, flowers; yak-tail fan, moon-like white umbrella, pale bull and horse, and a majestic elephant prepared for royal mounting; eight ornamented maidens, musicians, and panegyrists. Yet the assembled dignitaries do not see Daśaratha even after sunrise. Sumantra enters the inner apartments, praises the dynasty, invokes deities for victory, and urges the king to awaken and grant audience. Daśaratha, awake and troubled, asks why Kaikeyī’s instruction to bring Rāma has not been executed and orders Sumantra again to fetch him. Sumantra departs through bannered streets, hears citizens’ coronation talk, and reaches Rāma’s palace—described in extended, jewel-like imagery—crowded with eager townsfolk and villagers bearing gifts, culminating in his entry into Rāma’s private quarters.
सुमन्त्रदर्शनम् तथा रामस्य राजदर्शनाय प्रस्थानम् (Sumantra Meets Rama; Rama Departs to See the King)
अस्मिन् सर्गे सुमन्त्रः जनाकुलम् अन्तःपुरद्वारं समतीत्य प्रविविक्तां कक्ष्याम् उपयाति, यत्र युवभिः शस्त्रधरैः (प्रास-कार्मुकैः) अप्रमादिभिः रक्षितः अन्तःपुर-परिसरः वर्णितः। द्वारि स्थितान् काषायिणो वृद्धान् स्त्र्यध्यक्षान् दृष्ट्वा सुमन्त्रः विनीततया स्वागमनं निवेदयति; ते रामं शीघ्रं सूचयन्ति। ततः सुमन्त्रः रामं पश्यति—सौवर्ण-पर्यङ्के उपविष्टं, परार्ध्य-चन्दनेन अनुलिप्तं, वैश्रवण-सङ्काशं, सीतया वाळव्यजनहस्तया पार्श्वे स्थितया शोभितं ‘चित्रया शशिनम्’ इव। सुमन्त्रः विनयेन वन्दनां कृत्वा दाशरथस्य संदेशं निवेदयति—कैकेय्या सह राजा रामं द्रष्टुमिच्छति, मा चिरम्। रामः प्रसन्नः अभिषेक-सम्बद्धं मन्त्रणं संभावयन् सीतां प्रति कथयति; सीता मङ्गलाशंसनैः दिशः देवताभिः रक्षणं प्रार्थयति तथा दीक्षाव्रत-लक्षणान् (अजिन, कुरङ्गशृङ्ग) सूचयति। अनन्तरं रामः सुमन्त्रेण सह निष्क्रामति, लक्ष्मणं द्वारि प्रह्वाञ्जलिपुटं दृष्ट्वा सह प्रस्थितः। रथ-प्रस्थानं नगर-उत्सववत् चित्रितम्—वादित्र-स्तुति-शब्दाः, जनौघ-हलहलाशब्दः, पुष्पवर्षणं, नागरिकानां प्रशंसावाक्यानि, अश्व-नाग-रथ-संकुलः महापथः, रथस्य मेघनाद-समो घोषः, मणि-हेम-विभूषा च। सर्गः राज्याभिषेक-आशा-उत्साहस्य सार्वजनिक-प्रतिध्वनिं तथा रामस्य शील-प्रभावं स्थापयति।
रामस्य राजमार्गगमनम् (Rama’s Progress along the Royal Highway)
Sarga 17 presents a civic panorama as Rāma rides in a chariot through Ayodhyā amid rejoicing companions and a populace densely gathered to witness him. The city and royal road are described as ceremonially adorned—banners and pennants, incense and agaru, heaps of sandal and perfumes, silken cloth, pearls and crystal objects, flowers, and food offerings—creating an urban ritual field akin to a divine pathway. Citizens voice aspirations that the mere sight of Rāma enthroned and proceeding in public would surpass even bodily needs, framing kingship as a moral and aesthetic ideal. Rāma hears blessings and praise yet remains composed and inwardly detached, honoring people according to rank while continuing onward. The text emphasizes the magnetic ethical charisma (dharma and compassion) that prevents onlookers from withdrawing eyes or mind from him; it also notes his impartial mercy toward all varṇas and all ages. He proceeds with ritual circumambulation etiquette (keeping sacred junctions, temple-roads, monuments, and shrines to his right), reaches the royal residence whose towers are compared to clouds, Kailāsa peaks, and pale aerial chariots, crosses guarded courtyards, dismisses followers, and enters the private apartments near his father—while the waiting crowd anticipates his reemergence like the ocean awaiting the moonrise.
अष्टादशः सर्गः — Kaikeyī Discloses the Boons: Exile to Daṇḍaka and Bharata’s Consecration
Rāma enters the inner chamber and beholds Daśaratha reclined on an auspicious couch, wretched and pale, seated beside Kaikeyī. After saluting first his father and then Kaikeyī, Rāma sees the king unable to look at him or speak beyond uttering “Rāma,” overwhelmed by tears and heavy breathing. Rāma’s inquiry unfolds as a structured diagnostic: he asks whether he has unknowingly offended, whether the king suffers bodily or mental affliction, whether any misfortune has befallen Bharata, Śatrughna, or the queens, and whether Kaikeyī has spoken harshly and shaken the king’s mind. Kaikeyī reframes the silence as fear of speaking an unpleasant truth to a beloved son and demands that Rāma fulfill a promise earlier granted to her as two boons. Rāma asserts uncompromising obedience—declaring he would enter fire, drink poison, or drown if commanded by his father-guru and wellwisher—then asks to hear the king’s desired command. Kaikeyī finally states the boon-claims: Bharata’s consecration and Rāma’s departure to Daṇḍaka forest for fourteen years, renouncing the planned abhiṣeka and living as an ascetic in jaṭā and ajina. The sarga closes by contrasting Rāma’s steadiness under harsh speech with Daśaratha’s intense anguish at the calamity falling upon his son, crystallizing the book’s dharma-centered crisis around truth, vows, and succession.
एकोनविंशः सर्गः (Sarga 19): Rāma’s Unshaken Acceptance of Exile and Kaikeyī’s Urgency
This sarga stages a concentrated antaḥpura discourse in which Rāma receives Kaikeyī’s demand—words “like death”—yet displays no visible distress. He seeks clarification about Daśaratha’s silence, then explicitly commits to forest-life in bark-garments and matted locks to uphold the king’s promise. Rāma frames obedience to the father’s word as the highest dharma, declaring himself uninterested in wealth and akin to sages devoted solely to righteousness. Administrative consequences are immediately set in motion: messengers are ordered to fetch Bharata from his maternal uncle’s house. Kaikeyī, convinced of Rāma’s departure, hastens him, even weaponizing Daśaratha’s fasting as pressure: until Rāma leaves, the king will not bathe or eat. Daśaratha collapses in grief; Rāma lifts him, circumambulates father and Kaikeyī, and exits. The narration emphasizes Rāma’s unwavering composure—his splendor undiminished like the moon—and his careful concealment of bad news from friends. He dismisses royal emblems (umbrella, fans, chariot), controls senses, and enters his mother’s residence to communicate the reversal, while Lakṣmaṇa follows with tearful anger.
अयोध्याकाण्डे विंशः सर्गः — Rama Enters Kauśalyā’s Antaḥpura; Ritual Preparations and the Shock of Exile
Sarga 20 stages a movement from public passage to private sanctuary. As Rāma departs with folded palms, distress rises in the antaḥpura and the queens cry out, blaming the king; Daśaratha, already consumed by grief, collapses inwardly upon hearing the wailing. Rāma, self-controlled yet burdened, proceeds with Lakṣmaṇa through successive courtyards: he is greeted with victory acclamations, observes learned aged Brahmins honored by the king, and passes vigilant door-guards (women, elders, and children). The women hurry to inform Kauśalyā of his arrival. Kauśalyā is portrayed in dawn ritual discipline—white silk, vows, fire-offerings, libations—seeking her son’s welfare; the scene inventories ritual materials (curd, akṣata, ghee, sweets, oblations, garlands, pāyasa, kṛsara, samidh, and full water-vessels), anchoring the domestic-sacral setting. Mother and son reunite with embrace and blessing, and Kauśalyā anticipates the imminent consecration. Rāma, with reverent modesty, announces the reversal: Bharata is to receive the yuvarājya, while Rāma is exiled to Daṇḍakāraṇya for fourteen years, living austerely on forest fare. The disclosure shatters Kauśalyā; she faints and laments at length—fearful of humiliation by co-wives, despairing of life without her son, and interpreting her austerities as futile—while Rāma lifts and comforts her, maintaining the sarga’s core tension between ritual hope and ethical catastrophe.
अयोध्याकाण्डे एकविंशः सर्गः — Lakṣmaṇa’s militant counsel and Rāma’s dharma-based persuasion of Kausalyā
Sarga 21 stages a multi-voiced ethical debate in Ayodhyā centered on Rāma’s impending forest exile. It opens with Lakṣmaṇa, distressed by Kausalyā’s lament, offering “occasion-appropriate” but militant counsel: he proposes immediate seizure of authority, threatens depopulating Ayodhyā if resistance arises, and even speaks of imprisoning or killing Daśaratha if the king becomes an ‘enemy’ under Kaikeyī’s influence. Kausalyā then addresses Rāma directly, rejecting Kaikeyī’s unrighteous demand, urging him to remain and serve his mother as dharma, and warning of spiritual ruin if he departs. Rāma responds with a disciplined doctrine of vow-keeping: he cannot transgress the father’s command; he supports his stance with exempla (Kandu, the sons of Sagara, Jāmadagnya Rāma and Reṇukā) to show the ancestral precedence of obedience. He restrains Lakṣmaṇa from violent kṣatriya-impulses and asks Kausalyā’s permission and blessings (svastyayana rites), promising return after fulfilling the exile-term, likening it to Yayāti’s regained heaven. The chapter crystallizes the hierarchy of duties—truth anchored in dharma—over grief, anger, and political expediency.
अभिषेक-निवृत्ति-उपदेशः (Withdrawal of the Coronation: Rama’s Counsel to Lakshmana)
Sarga 22 centers on Rāma’s composed intervention in Lakṣmaṇa’s anger after the coronation is obstructed. Approaching Lakṣmaṇa—depicted as ‘hissing like a king cobra’ with wrath-widened eyes—Rāma restrains the emotional spiral by prescribing dhairya (fortitude) and immediate administrative action: withdraw the abhiṣeka arrangements without creating further obstacles. He argues that continuation of preparations would intensify Daśaratha’s mental anguish, since the king fears the moral breach of unfulfilled truth (satya). Rāma frames Kaikeyī’s harsh speech and determination as destiny-driven (daiva/kṛtānta), discouraging blame and retaliation; even sages, he notes, can be shaken by destiny’s pressure. The chapter converts royal ritual materials (pots of consecration water) into ascetic preparation, asserting that forest-dwelling can be ‘more glorious’ than kingship when aligned with dharma. The discourse thus maps a transition from rājyadharma (statecraft and legitimacy) to tapodharma (vowed discipline), while preserving familial non-violence and public order.
लक्ष्मणक्रोधः—दैवपुरुषकारविवादः (Lakshmana’s Wrath and the Debate on Destiny vs Human Effort)
Sarga 23 presents a tightly argued ethical confrontation between Lakṣmaṇa and Rāma. As Rāma speaks, Lakṣmaṇa oscillates inwardly between grief and joy, then externalizes rage through vivid animal and martial imagery (serpent-like hissing, lion-like visage). He rejects the legitimacy of consecrating anyone other than Rāma and frames the proposed reversal as socially abhorrent. Lakṣmaṇa attacks the appeal to destiny (दैव), calling it powerless, and insists that valor and agency (पुरुषकार) can ‘turn back’ fate, repeatedly promising to defeat any obstruction to Rāma’s coronation—even invoking cosmic-scale resistance (lokapālas, three worlds) as insufficient. His rhetoric escalates into threats of violent reprisal, inventorying weapons and battlefield outcomes, and culminates in an offer of total servitude: Rāma need only name the enemy and command. Rāma responds by consoling him, wiping tears, and reaffirming a principled commitment to the father’s word as the ‘right path’ (सत्पथ), thereby re-centering the episode on obedience, restraint, and dharmic consistency.
कौशल्यारामसंवादः — Kausalya–Rama Dialogue on Exile-Dharma
Sarga 24 presents an intimate dharma-discourse between Kauśalyā and Rāma after she perceives his unwavering resolve to fulfill Daśaratha’s command. Kauśalyā laments the implausibility of Rāma—accustomed to royal comfort—surviving on forest fare, and frames her grief through vivid fire imagery: separation kindles a ‘śokāgni’ fueled by lament, fanned by sighs, and offered oblations of tears. She insists on accompanying him, likening herself to a cow that must follow its calf, and later pleads to be taken like a ‘wild doe’ into the forest rather than remain among co-wives. Rāma responds with a structured ethical rationale: Kaikeyī has already deceived the king, and if Kauśalyā also abandons Daśaratha, the old monarch may not survive; for a wife, desertion of the husband is presented as morally censured. He instructs her to serve the king with composure, to prevent grief from destroying him, to honor household and ritual duties (including reverence to fire-rites and Brahmins), and to wait in disciplined hope for his return after fourteen years. Kauśalyā, unable to reverse his decision, grants consent, blesses him for safe return, and prepares to undertake protective wellbeing-rites for him, marking a transition from protest to ritualized support.
कौशल्याया मङ्गलविधानम् — Kausalya’s Benedictions and Protective Rites for Rama
Sarga 25 presents a ritualized farewell in which Kauśalyā, subduing grief, performs ācamana and inaugurates maṅgala-kriyā for Rāma’s forest journey. She issues layered protective invocations: abstract guardians (Smṛti, Dhṛti, Dharma), deities (Skanda, Soma, Bṛhaspati, Varuṇa, Sūrya, Kubera, Yama), ṛṣis (Saptarṣi-s, Nārada), directional guardians, and cosmological supports (mountains, seas, rivers, stars, planets, day-night, dawn-dusk, seasons, months, years, muhūrta divisions). The chapter also enumerates forest dangers—Rākṣasa-s, Piśāca-s, flesh-eaters, insects, reptiles, and wild beasts—asking that none harm him. Kauśalyā worships the gods with garlands and fragrances, arranges sacred fire through a brāhmaṇa, offers oblations, procures white garlands and white mustard, and commissions svastyayana/benedictory recitations. She gives dakṣiṇā and pronounces exemplary maṅgala parallels (Indra’s Vṛtra-slaying, Garuḍa’s amṛta quest, Viṣṇu’s three strides). She applies sandal, places remnants of offerings on Rāma’s head, and ties the medicinal herb Viśalyakaraṇī as protective rakṣā. Despite inner distress, she speaks as if joyful, embraces him repeatedly, circumambulates him, and he departs to Sītā’s residence after clasping her feet.
अयोध्याकाण्डे षड्विंशः सर्गः — Rama’s Departure and Sita’s Questions; Disclosure of Exile and Counsel on Courtly Conduct
This sarga stages a transition from ritual certainty to ethical shock. After Kauśalyā performs svastyayana (benedictory rites), Rāma pays obeisance and proceeds toward forest-exile while still “fixed on the righteous path” (धर्मिष्ठे वर्त्मनि स्थितः), moving along the royal highway amid the crowd whose hearts are stirred by his guṇas. In his residence, Sītā—having completed household worship and austerities oriented toward the anticipated consecration—sees Rāma’s altered complexion and grief. She articulates a sequence of pointed questions: why the umbrella, fans, panegyrists, auspicious acclamations, ritual sprinkling of honey-curd, ministers, guild leaders, ceremonial chariot, leading elephant, and golden throne are absent—i.e., why the public semiotics of coronation have collapsed. Rāma then discloses the causality of exile: Daśaratha’s earlier boons to Kaikeyī, her enforcement of the promise during abhiṣeka preparations, the decree of fourteen years in Daṇḍaka, and Bharata’s appointment as yuvarāja. He adds a pragmatic-ethical counsel to Sītā: do not praise him before Bharata; seek no special treatment; maintain favorable conduct; honor Daśaratha and all his mothers, especially grief-worn Kauśalyā; regard Bharata and Śatrughna as kin deserving care; avoid displeasing the king, since rulers reward loyal service and may reject even their own if harmful. The chapter closes with Rāma’s request that Sītā remain in Ayodhyā, steady and non-offensive in speech and action, while he departs for the forest.
सीताया वनगमननिश्चयः (Sita’s Resolve to Accompany Rama to the Forest)
Sarga 27 records Sītā’s sustained reply to Rāma after he speaks in a manner she deems dismissive of her rightful participation in his exile. She argues that a wife alone shares the husband’s destiny (bhartṛ-bhāgya), and that the husband is a woman’s enduring refuge in this world and the next. Declaring herself instructed in dharma by her parents, she insists she requires no further admonition regarding her conduct. She vows to precede Rāma into the difficult, unpeopled forest, even crushing thorns to ease his path, and promises disciplined living on fruits and roots without becoming a burden. The chapter also shifts from juridical reasoning to affective commitment: separation from Rāma is framed as intolerable—even heaven without him is rejected—while forest life is imagined as joyful companionship amid rivers, mountains, lotus-lakes, and wildlife. The sarga closes with a narrative turn: despite her appeals, Rāma remains reluctant and begins describing the hardships of forest residence to dissuade her, setting up the next argumentative exchange.
सीतानिवर्तनप्रयत्नः — Rama’s Attempt to Dissuade Sita from Forest Exile
Sarga 28 is constructed as a persuasive discourse in which Rāma responds to Sītā’s pleading by refusing, at first, to take her to the forest. Identified as dharmajña and dharmavatsala, he reflects on the concrete hardships of araṇyavāsa and frames his refusal as protective prudence rather than rejection (2.28.1–2). He instructs Sītā to remain in Ayodhyā and follow her svadharma, asserting that her compliance would bring him inner peace (2.28.3–5). The chapter then catalogs forest adversities as an evidentiary list: frightening natural sounds (waterfalls, lions), aggressive wild animals, crocodile-infested and muddy rivers, thorny and waterless paths, austere sleeping on leaf-beds, regulated subsistence on fallen fruits, fasting, bark garments and matted hair, ritual obligations to gods/ancestors/guests, thrice-daily ablutions, Vedic offerings of self-gathered flowers, limited food, darkness, wind, hunger, reptiles/serpents, and biting insects (2.28.6–24). The argument culminates in a normative judgment: the forest is “bahudoṣatara,” unfit for Sītā (2.28.25). The closing verse marks Sītā’s noncompliance and her grief-driven reply, transitioning to her counter-argument in the next movement (2.28.26).
सीताया वनगमननिश्चयः — Sita’s Resolve to Accompany Rama to the Forest
Sarga 29 is a sustained persuasive discourse in which Sītā responds to Rāma’s announcement and implied refusal regarding her forest accompaniment. Opening in grief and tears, she reframes the alleged “faults” (doṣa) of forest life as potential virtues when shared in mutual affection. She argues from multiple normative registers: (1) elder-command and marital inseparability—separation from her husband is tantamount to death; (2) personal security through Rāma’s presence, even against divine threats; (3) śruti-backed marital continuity beyond death, citing Vedic tradition that a wife given with ritual water belongs to her husband even after death; and (4) prophetic destiny—prior brahmin and female mendicant predictions that she would dwell in the forest, which she embraces as already anticipated. She intensifies her plea with an ultimatum (poison, fire, or water) if denied. Rāma, characterized as self-possessed, does not consent to take her into the desolate forest and instead consoles her repeatedly to dissuade her, while Sītā’s sorrow is depicted through vivid tear imagery. The Southern Recension presentation includes repeated verse blocks (notably around 2.29.3–4 and 2.29.17–18), reflecting recensional reinforcement of key claims.
सीताया वनानुगमननिश्चयः — Sita’s Resolve to Accompany Rama to the Forest
Sarga 30 centers on a spousal dharma-debate framed as consolation and counter-argument. Rāma initially attempts to dissuade Sītā from forest-exile, prompting Sītā’s forceful reply: she asserts exclusive marital devotion, rejects separation as intolerable, and reframes the forest’s hardships as comforts when shared with him (dust as sandal, grass as soft bedding, gathered fruits as nectar). Her rhetoric escalates into a stark ultimatum—death is preferable to abandonment or subjection to hostile powers in Ayodhyā. The chapter then pivots: Rāma embraces and reassures her, articulating his motive as filial obedience and the sanctity of parental command, presenting parents and guru as visible divinity and service to them as supremely efficacious. Accepting Sītā as sahadharmacāriṇī, he instructs her to begin practical preparations: distribute jewels, garments, couches, chariots, and other valuables to attendants and brāhmaṇas, and provide food to mendicants. The sarga concludes with Sītā’s delighted compliance, converting emotional contestation into ritualized renunciation and ethical readiness for exile.
लक्ष्मणस्य वनानुगमन-प्रतिज्ञा तथा आयुध-संग्रहः (Lakshmana’s Vow to Follow Rama and the Retrieval of Divine Weapons)
This sarga is structured as a tightly argued dialogue on dharma priorities during Rama’s impending forest exile. Lakshmana, arriving earlier and hearing Rama–Sita discourse, is overwhelmed with grief and clings to Rama’s feet, declaring unwavering accompaniment. Rama attempts a pragmatic ethical redirection: if Lakshmana goes, who will care for Kausalya and Sumitra, especially under the political vulnerability created by Dasaratha’s passion-bound state and Kaikeyi’s ascendance; Rama frames elder-service (गुरुपूजा/वृद्ध-सेवा) as an unequalled virtue and asks Lakshmana to remain as protector of the mothers. Lakshmana counters with a reasoned defense: Bharata, recognizing Rama’s tejas, will honor Kausalya and Sumitra; Kausalya’s independent sustenance (thousand villages) makes her materially secure; and Lakshmana’s dharma is fulfilled as Rama’s follower without ethical breach. He further offers operational support in exile—leading the way armed, collecting roots and fruits, and maintaining vigilance day and night. Rama, pleased, transitions from debate to logistics: Lakshmana should take leave of friends, retrieve the Varuna-gifted divine weapon set deposited and worshipped at Vasistha’s house (bows, armours, quivers with inexhaustible arrows, gold-plated swords), and return promptly. The chapter ends with Lakshmana’s execution of the task and Rama’s next instruction to summon Suyajna (Vasistha’s son) and other brahmins for rites and charitable distribution before departure, integrating dharma (दान, आचार) with the exile itinerary.
द्वात्रिंशस्सर्गः — Gifts to Suyajna and the Brahmins; Trijata’s Petition and Rama’s Charity
Sarga 32 maps Rama’s pre-exile redistribution of wealth as a ritualized enactment of dharma. Lakshmana, receiving Rama’s auspicious command, goes to the house of the Veda-versed brahmin Suyajna and invites him to Rama’s residence; Rama and Sita receive Suyajna with reverence and circumambulation, treating him like sacred fire. Sita’s ornaments and household valuables are formally offered to Suyajna’s household, and Rama adds major gifts (including elephants). Rama then instructs Lakshmana to honor eminent brahmins (Agastya and Kausika), Taittirīya teachers who attend on Kausalya, long-serving retainers such as the charioteer Chitraratha, and groups of Vedic students (Kaṭha–Kalāpa, mekhalin brahmacārins), specifying cows, carts filled with gems, bulls, garments, chariots, and attendants. Lakshmana distributes wealth ‘like Kubera.’ Rama further orders that the palaces remain guarded until his return and has the treasury brought out for dependents and the poor. The episode culminates in the destitute brahmin Trijata (Gārgya), whose wife urges him to seek aid; Rama playfully tests his vigor by asking him to throw his staff to delimit a gift of cows, then consoles him, clarifies that his wealth is meant for brahmins, and completes the charity so that no brahmin, servant, poor person, or beggar remains unsatisfied.
त्रयस्त्रिंशः सर्गः — Civic Lament and Rama’s Dutiful Approach to Daśaratha
In this sarga, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, accompanied by Sītā, perform charitable giving to brāhmaṇas and proceed to meet Daśaratha, marking exile as an act framed by ritual propriety and social obligation (2.33.1). Sītā adorns the brothers’ weapons with garlands, a domestic-sacral gesture that re-signifies arms as instruments of duty rather than conquest (2.33.2). The streets, crowded and impassable, drive citizens to rooftops where they witness the unsettling inversion of royal protocol—Rāma on foot without the umbrella—and they voice layered critiques: Daśaratha must be ‘possessed’ to speak of banishment; a king should not exile a beloved son, especially one whose conduct has ‘conquered the world’ (2.33.10–11). The populace articulates Rāma’s ṣaḍguṇas—harmlessness, compassion, learning, good conduct, restraint, and self-control—presenting him as dharma’s essence and the ‘root’ of humanity, with society as branches and fruit (2.33.12–15). Their grief becomes ecological metaphor (aquatic creatures in drought; a tree cut at the root), and their loyalty escalates into a readiness to abandon homes and follow Rāma into the forest, even imaginatively exchanging city and wilderness as moral geographies (2.33.16–25). Rāma hears these voices yet remains unwavering, enters the palace, sees the dejected Sumantra, and instructs him to announce his arrival to the king, maintaining composure and duty-bound intent (2.33.26–31).
रामदर्शनार्थं दारानयनम् — The Queens Summoned; Rama’s Leave-Taking and Dasaratha’s Collapse
This sarga stages a tightly ordered palace sequence that turns into a crisis of consciousness. Rāma instructs Sumantra to inform Daśaratha of his arrival (2.34.1–2). Sumantra enters and finds the king depleted by grief, described through layered similes (eclipsed sun, ash-covered fire, dried tank) that function as a diagnostic poetics of kingship in decline (2.34.3). By royal command Sumantra summons the queens; Kausalyā arrives surrounded by a large retinue, visually indexing collective mourning (2.34.10–13). Upon their arrival Daśaratha orders Rāma brought in (2.34.14–15). Seeing Rāma approach with folded hands, the king rises, rushes forward, and collapses unconscious before reaching him; the palace erupts in the lament of many women and the clinking of ornaments, an acoustic marker of catastrophe (2.34.16–19). Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa, and Sītā lift him to a couch; when consciousness returns, Rāma formally seeks leave for Daṇḍakāraṇya and requests permission for Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā to accompany him (2.34.20–24). Daśaratha, bound by the ‘cord of truth’ and pressured by Kaikeyī, proposes instead that Rāma seize the throne—an inversion meant to escape the vow (2.34.26). Rāma refuses, reasserting satya, renouncing kingdom and pleasures, and insisting the boons be fulfilled in full; Bharata should receive the realm (2.34.28–45). Daśaratha oscillates between blessing and pleading for delay, asking at least one night’s stay (2.34.31–36). Rāma reiterates that father is divine even to the gods, that his resolve will not change, and that after fourteen years he will return (2.34.40–59). The sarga closes with Daśaratha again overwhelmed, embracing Rāma and losing consciousness; the queens (except Kaikeyī) and even Sumantra faint amid universal wailing—an ethical tragedy rendered as collective bodily and sonic breakdown (2.34.60–61).
सुमन्त्रस्य कैकेयी-निन्दा (Sumantra’s Reproof of Kaikeyi in the Royal Assembly)
Sarga 35 presents Sumantra’s emotionally charged intervention in the royal court as he reads Daśaratha’s intent and confronts Kaikeyī’s insistence on Rāma’s banishment. The chapter opens with somatic markers of anger and grief—head-shaking, repeated sighs, clenched palms, and teeth-grinding—followed by a sustained rhetorical denunciation likened to “arrows of words” and “thunderbolt-speech.” Sumantra argues that Bharata may rule if Kaikeyī insists, yet the polity and the virtuous (brahmins and sādhus) will abandon her; public blame (parivāda) will spread if Rāma is driven to the forest. He deploys proverb and simile (mango cut down, nimba planted; milk cannot make it sweet; honey does not flow from nimba) to critique inherited disposition and warn against transgressing social bounds (amaryādā). A brief etiological anecdote about Kaikeyī’s father receiving a boon to understand animal sounds is used to frame the mother’s obstinacy and its consequences. Sumantra then pivots to counsel: accept the king’s word, uphold the husband’s wish, and install Rāma—described as the eldest, generous, skilled, dutiful protector—so that Daśaratha may later retire in accord with ancient custom. The sarga closes with Kaikeyī remaining outwardly unmoved, underscoring the limits of persuasion in a dharma-crisis.
अयोध्याकाण्डे षट्त्रिंशः सर्गः — Daśaratha’s orders for Rama’s escort; Kaikeyi’s fear; the Asamañjasa precedent
Sarga 36 intensifies the coronation-crisis into a procedural and moral confrontation. Daśaratha, “afflicted by the promise,” weeps and repeatedly addresses Sumantra, issuing detailed logistical commands to furnish Rāma for the forest journey: a fourfold army with valuables, attendants, carts, weapons, forest-guides and hunters, and even the granary and treasury to accompany him. The chapter then pivots to Kaikeyī’s reaction: as Daśaratha speaks, fear overtakes her and her voice chokes; she argues that Bharata will not accept a kingdom emptied of people and prosperity. Daśaratha condemns her cruelty, while Kaikeyī escalates by citing a dynastic precedent—Sagara’s exclusion of his eldest son Asamañjasa. An aged minister, Siddhārtha, counters by narrating Asamañjasa’s crimes against citizens’ children and challenges Kaikeyī to state any real fault in Rāma; otherwise exile would be adharma that burns even Indra’s splendor. The sarga concludes with Daśaratha’s grief-stricken rebuke of Kaikeyī’s ‘vile path’ and his declaration that he will follow Rāma, abandoning kingdom and wealth, leaving Kaikeyī to “enjoy” rule with Bharata—an utterance heavy with moral irony and despair.
अयोध्याकाण्डे सर्गः ३७ — चीरधारणं, सीतासंकल्पः, वसिष्ठोपदेशः (Bark-Robe Episode and Vasistha’s Admonition)
Sarga 37 stages the exile’s visible conversion from royal life to ascetic discipline through the ritualized act of donning bark garments (cīra). Rāma, hearing ministerial counsel, speaks with cultivated vinaya to Daśaratha and clarifies that, having renounced pleasures and attachments, he has no need of followers or military display; he requests only the minimal implements for forest life. Kaikeyī, publicly unashamed, produces bark robes and commands their use. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa remove fine clothing and adopt ascetic dress. Sītā, still in silk, recoils at the bark robes, receives kuśa-fiber garments from Kaikeyī, and—tearful and abashed—attempts to wear them but is unskilled; she asks how forest sages wear such garments. Rāma himself fastens the bark over her silk, prompting the palace women to weep and plead that Sītā should not be compelled to forest hardship. As these laments continue, Vasiṣṭha intervenes: he rebukes Kaikeyī for exceeding decency and deception, argues Sītā need not go, and even proposes her as fit to occupy Rāma’s throne; he warns that if Sītā is forced, the city and kingdom will follow Rāma, leaving Kaikeyī to rule an emptied land. Despite Vasiṣṭha’s authoritative counsel, Sītā remains unwavering, intent on serving her beloved husband, reinforcing the chapter’s dharma of spousal solidarity and chosen austerity.
अयोध्याकाण्डे अष्टत्रिंशः सर्गः — Sita in Bark Garments; Public Outcry and Dasaratha’s Lament
This sarga frames the exile moment through collective witness and paternal collapse. The citizens, seeing Sītā in bark garments despite being ‘protected’ by a husband, cry out against Daśaratha, converting private palace decisions into public moral indictment (2.38.1). The tumult destabilizes the king’s inner orientation, breaking his confidence in life and righteousness (2.38.2). Daśaratha then addresses Kaikeyī with escalating ethical argument: Sītā, Janaka’s daughter, has harmed no one and should not be subjected to ascetic garb; he proposes she go with ornaments and necessities, distinguishing his original promise from the present cruelty (2.38.3, 2.38.5–7). He questions what offence Sītā has shown and condemns further ‘heinous crimes’ beyond Rāma’s exile (2.38.8–12). Overwhelmed, he finds no end to grief and falls to the ground (2.38.13). As Rāma prepares to depart, he turns back to counsel his father: honor Kauśalyā—aged, illustrious, and not reproaching the king—so that she may survive separation and not be consumed by son-grief (2.38.14–17). The chapter thus juxtaposes public ethics (community judgment), royal dharma (vow versus compassion), and filial instruction (care for the forsaken).
एकोनचत्वारिंशः सर्गः — Dasaratha’s Lament, Sumantra’s Commission, and Sita’s Vow of Marital Dharma
Sarga 39 stages the immediate domestic and administrative aftermath of Rāma’s appearance in ascetic dress. Daśaratha and his queens collapse under grief; the king, overwhelmed, cannot meet Rāma’s gaze or reply. Regaining partial composure, he laments karmic causality and the suffering produced by Kaikeyī’s stratagem, then issues logistical commands to Sumantra: prepare a journey-ready chariot with the finest horses and escort Rāma beyond the city limits. The narrative shifts to court procedure as the king summons a treasury officer to provision Sītā for the forest term; ornaments and garments are brought, and Sītā is described as radiantly adorned, illuminating the palace like dawn. A central discourse follows between Kauśalyā and Sītā: Kauśalyā articulates an orthodox ethic of spousal fidelity and warns against abandoning a husband in misfortune; Sītā responds with folded hands, rejecting any comparison with fickle conduct and affirming that husband is a woman’s daivatam. Rāma then consoles Kauśalyā, emphasizing the finite term of exile (fourteen years) and requests forgiveness from all the queens for any unintended harshness. The palace, once festive with musical resonance, becomes filled with collective wailing, marking Ayodhyā’s transition from coronation expectancy to ritualized bereavement.
प्रयाणवर्णनम् (Departure from Ayodhya; Civic Lament and the Chariot’s Urgency)
Sarga 40 stages the formal and emotional mechanics of departure. Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa, hands folded, touch the king’s feet and circumambulate him, marking a ritualized leave-taking under sorrow. Rāma then offers obeisance to Kauśalyā; Lakṣmaṇa follows, reverencing both Kauśalyā and his mother Sumitrā. Sumitrā’s counsel reframes wilderness life as continuity of royal dharma: Lakṣmaṇa must treat Rāma as father (Daśaratha), Sītā as mother, and the forest as Ayodhyā—an ethical architecture for exile. Sumantra, with courtly humility, instructs Rāma to mount the chariot and emphasizes the fourteen-year term as a commenced count. Daśaratha provides garments, ornaments, and a cache of weapons and protective gear placed within the chariot. As the chariot moves, Ayodhyā’s populace surges after it, clinging to the sides and pleading for slow travel to keep Rāma’s face in view. The city’s soundscape—bells, horses, elephants—becomes a register of collective distress. Daśaratha, eclipsed in spirit like a full moon under Rāhu, collapses; citizens cry out, and Kauśalyā runs after the chariot. Rāma, unable to endure the sight of his parents’ suffering, repeatedly looks back yet urges the charioteer to drive swiftly. Caught between opposing commands—‘stay’ from the king and ‘go’ from Rāma—Sumantra obeys Rāma, later to answer reproach by claiming he did not hear, because prolonging agony is described as ethically blameworthy. The sarga closes with ministers advising the king not to follow too far those whom one wishes to return, while Daśaratha stands, perspiring and grief-stricken, staring after his son.
अयोध्यायाः शोकप्रकम्पः (Ayodhya’s Tremor of Grief and Omens)
Sarga 41 depicts the immediate civic and cosmic reverberation of Rāma’s departure. As Rāma exits with folded palms, distress-cries surge from the palace inner apartments, and Daśaratha—already scorched by separation—hears the wailing and sinks deeper into anguish. The text widens from domestic lament to city-wide dysfunction: agnihotra fires are not invoked, household cooking ceases, and routine duties collapse. The sorrow is mirrored in animal behavior—elephants drop food, cows refuse to suckle—and in social bonds loosening as families fix their attention solely on Rāma. A dense omen-register follows: stars lose radiance, planets dim, Viśākhā appears smoke-shrouded, and fierce grahas cluster near the Moon; directions seem wrapped in darkness. Meteorological and cosmic imagery culminates in Ayodhyā ‘shaking’ like earth bereft of Indra, dramatizing a political-theological vacuum created by the absence of the rightful protector. The sarga functions as a literary bridge from personal grief to a cosmological framing of dharma’s disruption.
द्विचत्वारिंशः सर्गः — दशरथस्य शोक-विलापः तथा कौशल्यागृह-प्रवेशः (Dasaratha’s Lament and Return to Kausalya’s Apartments)
This sarga stages the immediate aftermath of Rama’s departure. Dasaratha fixes his gaze on the departing chariot: as long as the dust-cloud remains visible, he cannot withdraw his eyes (2.42.1), and when even the dust disappears he collapses to the ground in grief (2.42.3). Kausalya lifts the dust-covered king and returns toward the palace (2.42.10). Dasaratha’s remorse intensifies through juridical-religious similes—he burns as if guilty of brahmin-slaying or as if touching fire (2.42.11)—and his face loses lustre like an eclipsed sun (2.42.12). He laments that only hoofprints remain while Rama is unseen (2.42.14), and imagines the prince, once accustomed to sandalpaste and cushions, now sleeping at a tree-root with wood or stone as pillow (2.42.15–16). He extends the pathos to Sita’s forest-unfamiliarity and fear of wild roars (2.42.19–20). In a sharp ethical rupture, he repudiates Kaikeyi—rejecting her touch and even renouncing the marriage-bond (2.42.6–8)—and utters a bitter wish regarding Bharata’s funeral offerings (2.42.9). Surrounded by citizens, he enters an ominously quiet Ayodhya and a palace emptied of Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana (2.42.22–25). With choked voice he asks attendants to take him to Kausalya, his only solace (2.42.27–28). At midnight, in a death-like night, he confesses that his sight still follows Rama and he cannot see Kausalya clearly; she sits by him, sighing and lamenting (2.42.33–35).
कौशल्याविलापः — Kausalya’s Lament and the Vision of Rama’s Return
Sarga 43 stages Kauśalyā’s grief-stricken address to Daśaratha, who lies physically and emotionally exhausted. She interprets Kaikeyī’s conduct through serpent imagery—crooked movement, released venom, and the danger of a hostile presence within the household—thereby converting political injustice into moral-symbolic threat. Kauśalyā then turns from accusation to anxious foresight: she imagines Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa entering the forest despite their unaccustomedness to hardship, deprived of royal comforts and forced to subsist on fruits and roots. The chapter pivots into a sustained “kadā…?” refrain, projecting an envisioned homecoming: Ayodhyā rejoicing with raised banners, crowds showering parched grain on the royal road, and the brothers entering with weapons and auspicious ornaments. Her maternal longing culminates in the hope of Rāma returning playfully like a small child, juxtaposed against her present despair. Finally, she voices karmic self-blame (a prior-life offense against cows and calves) and concludes that life is scarcely sustainable without seeing her only son; grief is figured as a consuming fire, like the summer sun scorching the earth.
सुमित्रोपदेशः — Sumitra’s Consolation to Kausalya
Sarga 44 is a consolatory discourse in which Queen Sumitrā addresses the grieving Kausalyā while Rāma has departed for forest-exile. Sumitrā reframes lamentation as unnecessary by emphasizing Rāma’s dharma-stability, his adherence to Daśaratha’s truthful vow, and the merit (pretya-phala) of conduct practiced by the wise. She strengthens confidence through layered assurances: Lakṣmaṇa’s noble companionship and martial readiness; Sītā’s deliberate choice to share hardship; and cosmic imagery suggesting nature itself will attend Rāma (breeze, moon, sun). The speech then pivots to Rāma’s invincibility and legitimacy—divine weapons received from Viśvāmitra, enemies destroyed within his arrow-range, and the certainty of future return and coronation. Sumitrā repeatedly projects a future scene of reunion (Rāma bowing at Kausalyā’s feet; tears of joy replacing tears of sorrow), culminating in Kausalyā’s grief dissolving immediately, likened to a thin autumn cloud dispersing.
अयोध्यावासिजनानुरागः — The People and Brahmins Follow Rama toward Exile
Sarga 45 depicts the public and ritual community’s response as Rāma departs for forest-exile. The citizens remain devoted and continue following his chariot even when the king’s party and friends attempt to send them back by force. Rāma addresses the Ayodhyā residents with paternal affection, redirecting their loyalty toward Bharata and urging obedience to royal command, framing civic stability as part of dharma. Yet the subjects’ longing for Rāma’s kingship intensifies precisely because of his steadfast righteousness. Aged brahmins, described as senior in wisdom, age, and spiritual energy, lament from a distance and even entreat the horses to turn back, arguing that a master of purified resolve should be carried cityward, not forestward. Moved by compassion, Rāma dismounts and proceeds on foot with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa so as not to leave the brahmins behind. The brahmins further declare that the entire brahminical order, with sacred fires borne on shoulders, is following him; they offer shade with Vajapeya-acquired umbrellas, and insist their decision is fixed—if Rāma disregards dharma, what remains of the righteous path? They plead for his return, citing unfinished sacrifices and the devotion of all beings, even trees and birds. The river Tamasā appears as if symbolically restraining him, and Sumantra tends the horses near its banks, marking a liminal pause between city and forest.
तमसातीरवासः — Night on the Bank of the Tamasa and the Stratagem to Elude the Citizens
Sarga 46 frames the first night of exile as a disciplined, carefully managed transition from civic space to wilderness. Rāma shelters on the lovely bank of the Tamasa, addresses Lakṣmaṇa with composed instruction, and chooses austerity—living on water alone despite available forest foods—signaling voluntary restraint rather than deprivation. Sumantra tends the horses, performs twilight observance (sandhyā-upāsanā), and prepares a leaf-bed on the riverbank; Rāma sleeps with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa. Lakṣmaṇa keeps vigil, praising Rāma’s virtues to Sumantra until sunrise. At dawn Rāma observes the citizens asleep under trees, interprets their loyalty as potentially self-harming resolve, and articulates a principle of rājyadharma: subjects should be relieved of suffering, not burdened by the prince’s predicament. He then proposes a tactical departure while they sleep. To prevent pursuit, Rāma instructs Sumantra to drive north briefly and loop back, confusing the paurāḥ. The party boards the yoked chariot, crosses the fast-flowing Tamasa with whirlpools, and reaches an auspicious, “thornless” highway toward the forest (tapo-vana), marking exile as both moral choice and logistical operation.
अयोध्यायाः पौरविलापः (Lament of the Citizens of Ayodhya on Rama’s Absence)
At dawn, the citizens (paurāḥ) realize Rāma is no longer visible and are psychologically stunned—grief is described as a loss of agency and even recognition. They search hither and thither for any trace of him, condemn the sleep that dulled their awareness, and voice a sequence of communal laments: Rāma is portrayed as a paternal protector whose departure renders life purposeless. Their speech escalates to extreme proposals—death or self-immolation—framed as the existential consequence of separation from the city’s moral center. Attempting to follow the chariot’s tracks, they proceed briefly but lose the path; the disappearance of the ratha-mārga becomes a concrete symbol of destiny’s obstruction. Turning back, they return to Ayodhyā fatigued, entering wealthy homes with difficulty, unable to recognize even their own kin due to sorrow. The sarga culminates in layered similes: Ayodhyā without Rāma is likened to a river emptied of serpents by Garuḍa, a moonless sky, and a waterless ocean—poetic devices that map political absence onto cosmic deprivation.
अयोध्यायाः शोकवर्णनम् (Ayodhya’s Lament and Civic Desolation)
Sarga 48 presents a civic-psychological tableau after the citizens have followed Rāma and then returned to Ayodhyā. The populace is depicted as tear-blinded and death-wishing, as though their vital breaths were departing (2.48.1–2). Domestic life disintegrates: households weep, women reproach their husbands with sharp speech, and ordinary markers of prosperity—trade, cooking, celebrations, and even joy at childbirth—become meaningless (2.48.3–7). The text simultaneously elevates those who accompany Rāma (Lakṣmaṇa with Sītā) and imagines nature itself as a hospitable polity: forests, rivers, mountains, flowering trees, and waterfalls will “honor” Rāma like a beloved guest, offering out-of-season blossoms and pure waters (2.48.8–15). Women propose a division of service—women to Sītā, men to Rāma—framing exile as a mobile community of care (2.48.18–19). The chapter then turns sharply political: citizens denounce Kaikeyī’s unethical rule, foresee ruin in a leaderless kingdom, and anticipate Daśaratha’s death and ensuing lamentation (2.48.20–26). Rāma’s virtues are cataloged in a concentrated encomium (2.48.29–31). As evening falls, ritual fires and scriptural recitation cease; markets close; Ayodhyā appears starless, darkened, and diminished like an ocean with reduced waters—an urban metaphor for dharmic depletion (2.48.33–37).
एकोनपञ्चाशः सर्गः (Sarga 49): Rāma’s Night Journey Beyond Kosala and the Charioteer Address
This sarga tracks Rāma’s rapid progress during the final portion of night as he recollects Daśaratha’s command, framing exile as a consciously maintained ethical vow rather than mere displacement. At dawn, after worshipping the auspicious morning sandhyā, he reaches and then crosses the frontiers of Kosala, while overhearing villagers’ critiques of Daśaratha’s passion-driven decision and Kaikeyī’s breach of decorum; these public voices supply an external moral audit of the royal household. The chapter then shifts into itinerary-detail: Rāma crosses the sacred river Vedāśruti and proceeds southward toward the quarter associated with Agastya; after extended travel he crosses the cool-watered Gomati (noted for marshy banks with grazing cattle) and then the Syandikā, resonant with peacocks and swans. Rāma shows Sītā vast tracts of land traditionally linked to Manu’s grant to Ikṣvāku, embedding political geography within dynastic memory. Repeatedly addressing the charioteer as “sūta,” Rāma speaks in a sweet, swan-like (haṃsamattasvara) tone, voicing longing for return to Sarayū’s blossoming groves and reflecting on hunting as a royal-sage pastime—pleasurable yet not his dominant desire—thus balancing kṣatriya culture with self-restraint.
गङ्गादर्शनम् तथा गुहसमागमः (Vision of the Gaṅgā and Meeting with Guha)
Sarga 50 moves from farewell discourse to topographical and ethical transition. Rāma, having crossed the prosperous Kosala region, turns toward Ayodhyā and offers a formal leave-taking to the city and its protecting deities, while the populace laments as he passes beyond sight. The narration then shifts to an ornate description of Kosala’s auspiciousness—its ritual markers (yūpa, caitya), agrarian abundance, fearless civic life, and the soundscape of Vedic recitation—framing good governance as a cultural ecology. Rāma next beholds the Gaṅgā, portrayed through layered similes (foam as smile, waters as braided hair) and cosmological genealogy (Viṣṇupāda-origin, Śiva’s jaṭā, Bhāgīratha’s tapas), emphasizing sanctity and liminality. Reaching Śṛṅgiberapura, Rāma decides to camp by an ingudī tree; Guha, Niṣāda king and intimate ally, arrives with hospitality and offers his realm. Rāma declines gifts consistent with ascetic discipline, requesting only fodder and water for Daśaratha’s horses. The night passes with Guha keeping vigilant watch, highlighting friendship, restraint, and protective duty at the threshold of the wilderness.
अयोध्याकाण्डे एकपञ्चाशः सर्गः — Guha’s Vigil and Lakṣmaṇa’s Lament (Night on the riverbank)
Sarga 51 is structured as a night-scene of protection and grief at the exile camp, where Guha’s practical hospitality and Lakṣmaṇa’s moral anguish converge. Guha, moved by Lakṣmaṇa’s sleepless vigilance for Rāma’s safety, offers a prepared bed and pledges armed protection with his kinsmen, presenting friendship (sauhṛda) as an ethical duty. Lakṣmaṇa refuses ease: he asserts that none is dearer to him than Rāma, and that while Rāma lies on grass with Sītā, sleep and worldly pleasures are impossible for him. The chapter then pivots into lamentation and political-ethical prognosis: Lakṣmaṇa anticipates Daśaratha’s death from unfulfilled coronation desire, foresees Kauśalyā’s collapse, and imagines Ayodhyā’s civic soundscape falling silent after exhaustion and mourning. A contrasting civic catalogue briefly evokes Ayodhyā’s festive prosperity, intensifying the tragedy by juxtaposing ideal urban order with imminent bereavement. The night passes with Lakṣmaṇa still grieving; Guha, hearing the truthful account spoken for the people’s welfare, weeps under the weight of shared suffering—friendship becoming a conduit for communal pathos and dharmic solidarity.
गङ्गातरणम्, सुमन्त्र-प्रतिनिवर्तनम्, जटाधारणम् (Crossing the Gaṅgā; Sumantra’s Return; Adoption of Ascetic Signs)
Sarga 52 stages the logistical and ethical threshold between Ayodhyā’s civic order and the forest regime of vrata. At dawn, Rāma initiates movement toward the Gaṅgā and directs Lakṣmaṇa, Sītā, and attendants with procedural clarity. He dismisses Sumantra with compassionate firmness, instructing him to serve Daśaratha without negligence and to stabilize court succession by summoning Bharata and ensuring equitable conduct toward all queens—especially reverence toward Kauśalyā. Sumantra’s grief becomes a civic symptom: he anticipates the city’s anguish at the empty chariot and requests permission to accompany the exiles, even threatening self-immolation, which Rāma counters with reasoned statecraft (Kaikeyī must be convinced the exile is real). Guha provides a boat; Rāma requests a hermitage-oriented life and adopts ascetic markers by matting hair (jaṭā) with banyan latex, with Lakṣmaṇa similarly transformed. The party crosses the swiftly flowing Gaṅgā; Sītā offers a formal vow-prayer to the river, promising future worship upon safe return. Reaching the southern bank, Rāma institutes a protection protocol—Lakṣmaṇa ahead, Sītā in the middle, Rāma behind—signaling the disciplined ethics of wilderness travel and mutual guardianship.
पञ्चाशत्तमः सर्गः (Sarga 53) — Rāma’s Lament, Vigil for Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa’s Consolation
This sarga stages the first night outside settled habitation, framing exile as both ritual transition and ethical trial. Reaching a tree, Rāma performs the western sandhyā rites, then instructs Lakṣmaṇa on night vigilance because Sītā’s safety (yogakṣema) depends on them. Lying on the ground despite being fit for royal luxury, Rāma reflects on Ayodhyā: Daśaratha’s suffering, Kaikeyī’s ambition, and the political future in which Bharata may rule as sole chief. He articulates a governance lesson—kāma overpowering artha and dharma—and warns that a king abandoning righteousness for pleasure falls swiftly, as with Daśaratha’s present ruin. The lament turns inward: anxiety for Kauśalyā and Sumitrā, proposals that Lakṣmaṇa return to protect the mothers, and self-reproach for causing Kauśalyā grief at the moment of fruition. The discourse culminates in a restraint ethic: although Rāma claims the capacity to subdue Ayodhyā and the earth with arrows, he rejects purposeless display of force and declines coronation out of fear of adharma and concern for the other world. After Rāma falls silent with tears, Lakṣmaṇa counters with loyalty and encouragement, describing Ayodhyā as moonless without Rāma and insisting that neither he nor Sītā can live apart from him. The trio then settles on a prepared bed beneath a banyan (nyagrodha), and Rāma accepts Lakṣmaṇa’s resolve to share the full forest term by adhering to prescribed forest-dharma; the brothers remain fearless in the desolate wood, likened to lions.
भरद्वाजाश्रमप्राप्तिः — Arrival at Bharadvāja’s Hermitage and Counsel toward Citrakūṭa
Sarga 54 narrates the transition from travel to hermitage discourse at Prayāga, the confluence region of Gaṅgā and Yamunā. After an auspicious night beneath a great tree, Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa traverse a vast forest toward the river confluence, noting unfamiliar and enchanting terrains. Observing sacrificial smoke, they infer a nearby ascetic settlement and reach Bharadvāja’s āśrama by evening. The trio waits respectfully at a distance, then enters and offers obeisance to the sage—portrayed as disciplined, fire-ritual observant, and spiritually insightful. Rāma formally introduces himself, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa, explaining the exile and their intention to live on roots and fruits in accordance with dharma. Bharadvāja extends guest-hospitality (arghya, water, provisions, and lodging) and welcomes them amid disciples, hermits, and forest creatures. In dialogue, Bharadvāja suggests they dwell comfortably near the sacred confluence, but Rāma declines due to anticipated public visitation from nearby settlements and requests a more solitary site suitable for Sītā’s comfort. Bharadvāja recommends the famed mountain Citrakūṭa (ten krośas away), praising its sanctity, natural abundance, and morally elevating sight; he also permits their departure at dawn and reiterates Citrakūṭa as an appropriate forest abode.
चित्रकूटमार्गोपदेशः — Instructions for the Chitrakuta Route and the Yamuna Crossing
Sarga 55 maps a transitional itinerary from Bharadvāja’s hermitage toward Citrakūṭa. After spending the night, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa offer obeisance; Bharadvāja provides precise route-instructions: reach the Gaṅgā–Yamunā confluence, proceed along the westward-flowing Kālindī (Yamunā), locate an ancient ford-site, construct a raft, and cross. He further identifies a prominent nyagrodha (banyan) associated with siddha-presence, prescribing Sītā’s auspicious invocations there. The narrative shifts from guidance to enactment: the brothers build a large wooden float (logs bound together, bamboo spread, uśīra covering), Lakṣmaṇa prepares a comfortable seat, and Rāma assists the bashful Sītā onto the raft while placing garments, ornaments, tools, and weapons. Midstream, Sītā performs a river-salutation, vows future worship upon safe return, and the party reaches the southern bank. After crossing, Sītā circumambulates the banyan, prays for Rāma’s vow to be fulfilled and for reunion with Kauśalyā and Sumitrā. Rāma then instructs Lakṣmaṇa to walk ahead with Sītā while he follows armed, and to satisfy her botanical curiosities. The sarga closes with Sītā’s delight in Yamunā’s beauty, the brothers’ forest foraging, and selection of a suitable riverside dwelling—integrating dharma, ritual gesture, and topographical precision into a navigable “digital map” segment.
चित्रकूटगमनम् तथा पर्णशालाप्रवेशः (Arrival at Chitrakuta and Establishing the Leaf-Hut)
After the night passes, Rāma gently awakens Lakṣmaṇa and signals the time to proceed, framing the departure within attentiveness to the forest’s auspicious sounds. The party follows the route indicated by the sage (contextually, Bhāradvāja) toward Citrakūṭa, while Rāma draws Sītā’s attention to seasonal bloom and abundance—trees, honeycombs, birds, and elephants—presenting the landscape as both refuge and disciplined habitat. Reaching the mountain, Rāma evaluates it as suitable for residence because of water, roots, fruits, and the presence of great sages. They approach Vālmīki’s hermitage, offer respectful salutations, and are welcomed and seated. Rāma then directs Lakṣmaṇa to build a sturdy dwelling; once the leaf-hut is completed, Rāma prescribes vāstu-śamana rites (propitiation of the presiding household deity), including offerings of venison, mantra-recitation, bathing, and bali to multiple deities (Viśvadevas, Rudra, Viṣṇu). Rāma establishes altars and sacred fire-spots befitting a hermitage, propitiates beings with forest offerings, and the three enter the hut together, likened to gods entering Sudharmā, concluding with serene enjoyment in the rich woodland environment.
सप्तपञ्चाशः सर्गः — Sumantra’s Return to Ayodhya and the Palace’s Lament
Sarga 57 tracks the narrative re-entry into Ayodhyā through Sumantra’s perspective after he is permitted to depart from Rāma at the Gaṅgā. Guha, after accompanying and speaking with Sumantra until Rāma reaches the southern bank, returns home grief-stricken. Sumantra journeys swiftly back, observing forests, rivers, lakes, villages, and towns, and reaches Ayodhyā on the third day at dusk to find it silent and cheerless. Crowds surge toward him asking “Where is Rāma?”, and the city’s people lament that they will no longer see the righteous prince in sacrifices, weddings, assemblies, and charitable gatherings—recalling his paternal governance. Entering the palace, Sumantra passes the crowded courtyards as women in mansions and palaces cry out, their eyes flooded with tears; whispers among Daśaratha’s wives anticipate the difficulty of addressing Kausalyā. Sumantra finally meets the king, conveys Rāma’s message verbatim, and Daśaratha, overwhelmed by grief, swoons and falls. The inner apartments erupt in lament; Kausalyā, aided by Sumitrā, raises the fallen king, urges him to question the messenger without fear (Kaikeyī being absent), and then collapses herself—triggering a citywide resurgence of mourning.
अष्टपञ्चाशः सर्गः (Sarga 58) — Daśaratha Questions Sumantra; Messages from the Forest Threshold
After regaining consciousness, King Daśaratha summons Sumantra to obtain precise news of Rāma. The king’s questions emphasize material details—where Rāma sat, slept, and what he ate—revealing grief’s need for concrete narrative as a substitute for presence. Sumantra approaches with folded hands and describes the king as aged, dust-covered, and sighing like a newly captured elephant, establishing a scene of political collapse through somatic imagery. Sumantra reports Rāma’s dharmic conduct at the forest’s edge: with añjali and bowed head, Rāma instructs that salutations and inquiries of welfare be conveyed to the inner palace, especially to Kausalyā, urging ritual regularity, service to Daśaratha ‘as to a god,’ humility among co-wives, and careful maintenance of relations with Kaikeyī. Rāma also frames rājadharma regarding Bharata: treat him as king, report welfare, and advise equal honor to all mothers and obedience to the aged monarch. The report then shifts to Lakṣmaṇa’s anger and moral protest against the banishment, while Sītā appears stunned, then breaks into tears upon Sumantra’s departure. The sarga closes with the tableau of Rāma weeping with folded hands, supported by Lakṣmaṇa, and Sītā gazing at the royal chariot—an image of separation that fuses personal sorrow with the ethics of duty.
एकोनषष्ठितमः सर्गः (Sarga 59): सुमन्त्रवाक्यं, अयोध्याविषादः, दाशरथिशोकसागरः
Sarga 59 continues Sumantra’s report to King Daśaratha after Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa proceed toward Prayāga, having crossed the Gaṅgā in ascetic garb. The charioteer recounts his helpless return: Lakṣmaṇa guarding Rāma, the horses refusing the path while ‘shedding hot tears,’ and Sumantra waiting with Guha in hope of being recalled. The chapter then shifts to a macrocosmic grief motif—trees, rivers, ponds, forests, and gardens appear withered or heated, as if the polity and ecology mirror Rāma’s calamity. Entering Ayodhyā without Rāma, Sumantra observes universal mourning: no greetings, repeated sighs, women weeping from mansions and palaces, and an undifferentiated anguish among friends, foes, and neutral citizens. Daśaratha responds in tear-choked self-indictment: he acted hastily ‘for the sake of a woman,’ without counsel, blaming Kaikeyī’s incitement and invoking destiny’s destructive force. He implores Sumantra to take him to Rāma, declaring he cannot live even a moment without seeing him (and Sītā). The sarga culminates in an extended metaphor of the ‘ocean of sorrow’—with Kaikeyī as the mare-mouth, Mantharā’s words as crocodiles, and tears as foam—after which Daśaratha collapses unconscious, and Kausalyā is seized by renewed fear.
षष्टितमः सर्गः — Kausalyā’s Lament and Sumantra’s Consolation (Sītā’s Fearless Forest-Life)
This sarga stages a grief-driven dialogue in which Queen Kausalyā, physically destabilized and trembling, addresses the charioteer Sumantra and demands immediate conveyance to Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa, declaring she cannot survive separation. Sumantra responds with folded hands and carefully structured reassurance: he urges abandonment of despair, frames Rāma’s forest-life as principled endurance, and depicts Lakṣmaṇa’s service as disciplined dharma that secures spiritual merit. The consolatory core then shifts to Sītā’s comportment: she appears un-dejected, confident in the desolate forest as if at home, playfully inquisitive about villages, rivers, and trees, and emotionally centered on Rāma such that Ayodhyā without him would feel like wilderness. Sumantra’s praise emphasizes Sītā’s un-fading radiance despite travel hardships, her lotus-and-moon imagery, her unadorned yet luminous feet, and her fearless movement under Rāma’s protection even amid wild beasts. The chapter closes by asserting the enduring fame of this conduct and by showing that, despite apt counsel, Kausalyā’s maternal sorrow continues in repeated cries to her beloved son.
कौसल्याविलापः — Kausalya’s Lament and Ethical Analogies on Kingship
अस्मिन् सर्गे रामे वनं गते कौसल्या तीव्रशोकाकुला दशरथं प्रति वाक्यप्रवाहं प्रवर्तयति। सा प्रथमं राम-सीता-लक्ष्मणानां वनजीवन-दुःखसहिष्णुतां प्रश्नयति—सीतायाः कोमलता, राजभोग-अभ्यस्तत्वं, तथा वन्याहार-शीतोष्ण-सिंहनादादि कष्टानि इत्यादि। ततः दशरथस्य निर्णयं ‘अकरुण-कर्म’ इति निर्दिश्य, स्वबान्धवानां (रामादीनां) सुखार्हत्वं प्रतिपादयति। भरतस्य राज्यत्यागस्य असंभवत्वं सूचयित्वा, कौसल्या अनेकान् उपमान-न्यायान् प्रयुङ्क्ते—श्राद्धे प्रथमं स्वजनभोजनं कृत्वा पश्चात् द्विजश्रेष्ठान् अन्वेषणम्; उत्तम-ब्राह्मणानां ‘पश्चाद्भोजन’ अस्वीकारः; व्याघ्रस्य पराहृतभक्ष्य-अस्वीकारः; यज्ञद्रव्याणां पुनरुपयोग-अयोग्यता; ‘हृतसार-सुरा’/‘नष्टसोम-अध्वर’ इव परभुक्तराज्यस्य अस्वीकृतिः। एतेन सा रामस्य स्वाभिमान-धर्मनिष्ठा च सूचयति—रामः असत्कारं न मर्षयेत्, क्रुद्धः सन् पर्वतान् अपि विदारयेत्, किन्तु पितृगौरवात् दशरथं हन्तुं नोत्सहते। सर्गान्ते स्त्रीधर्म-आश्रय-न्यायः (पतिः–पुत्रः–ज्ञातयः) प्रतिपाद्यते, तथा कौसल्यायाः आत्मविनाश-भावना/परित्यक्तत्व-बोधः प्रकट्यते।
अयोध्याकाण्डे द्विषष्टितमः सर्गः — Kausalyā consoles Daśaratha; grief, remorse, and nightfall
Sarga 62 stages a palace interior of moral psychology. After Kausalyā’s harsh speech (spoken in anger and grief), Daśaratha becomes distressed and falls into a faint, later regaining consciousness with heated sighs. His mind turns to remorse: alongside the immediate sorrow of Rāma’s separation, an earlier sinful act flashes back—his inadvertent killing of a sage’s son by śabdavedhin (sound-guided) archery—creating a doubled burden of culpability and loss. Trembling and downcast, he petitions Kausalyā with folded palms, framing the husband as a visible divinity for dharma-minded women, and asking her not to speak bitterly to one already overwhelmed. Kausalyā’s affect pivots from anger to compassion; she weeps profusely, makes anjali upon her head, and begs his pardon, admitting that son-grief drove her to improper harshness. She articulates an upadeśa on śoka: grief destroys fortitude, learning, and all stability; it is the greatest enemy and is harder to endure than an enemy’s blow. Even ascetics and the learned are deluded when the mind is submerged in grief. She measures time phenomenologically—five nights of exile feel like five years—and likens her swelling sorrow to the ocean rising with river torrents. As she speaks these heart-touching words, the sun’s rays fade and night arrives; Daśaratha, briefly consoled yet still overcome, falls under sleep’s influence.
दशरथस्य शोकानुचिन्तनं शब्धवेधि-दोषस्मरणं च (Daśaratha’s grief, karmic reflection, and the remembered ‘śabdavedhī’ misdeed)
Sarga 63 is structured as a grief-driven recollection framed by didactic aphorisms on karma-phala. Daśaratha, awakened and mentally seized by sorrow after Rāma’s exile, turns to Kausalyā and states a general law: the agent inevitably receives the fruit of action, and one who begins acts without weighing benefit and fault is ‘childlike’. He illustrates this with the metaphor of cutting mango trees and watering palāśa (kiṃśuka), repenting only at the season of fruit—an image he then applies to himself for banishing Rāma at the moment of fruition. The king proceeds to narrate an earlier incident: during the rainy season he went hunting by the Sarayū, waited at a water-spot in darkness, and—misled by sound—shot an arrow toward what he assumed was an elephant. The cry that follows reveals he has struck an ascetic youth fetching water for his blind, aged parents. The dying forest-dweller laments the unjust violence against a renunciant and grieves chiefly for his parents’ impending suffering; he urges Daśaratha to seek their forgiveness to avoid a curse, and asks that the arrow be removed. Daśaratha agonizes: leaving it causes pain, removing it causes death; when he finally withdraws it, the youth dies. The episode functions as an etiological account of Daśaratha’s present downfall, integrating seasonal nature-description, moral causality, and the psychology of remorse into a single karmic narrative arc.
शब्दवेध्य-अनर्थः, ऋषिशापः, दशरथस्य प्राणत्यागः (The Sound-Target Tragedy, the Sage’s Curse, and Dasaratha’s Death)
अस्मिन् सर्गे दशरथः कौसल्यां प्रति करुणया विलपन् स्वजीवनस्य पूर्वकृतं ‘शब्दवेध्य’ अभ्यासजन्यं पापप्रसङ्गं निवेदयति। सरयूतीरे जले घटपूरणशब्दं द्विपशब्द इति मत्वा बाणं विसृज्य, वास्तवतः तापसपुत्रं हतवान् इति कथयति। ततः स मृत्युमुखे पतितं मुनिपुत्रं दृष्ट्वा बाणोद्धरणं कृत्वा, अन्ध-वृद्धयोः पितृमातृयोः शोकं, पुत्रवियोगविलापं, तथा अन्त्यदर्शनं च अनुवर्तते। मुनिः धर्म-न्यायपरं वचनं वदन् अज्ञानकृतत्वात् त्वरितं ब्रह्महत्यादोषं न प्रवर्तते इति सूचयति; किन्तु पुत्रशोकसमं राज्ञः मरणं भविष्यति इति शापं ददाति। मुनिदम्पती चितामारोप्य स्वर्गं गच्छतः, मुनिपुत्रः दिव्यरूपेण शक्रेण सह स्वर्गारोहणं करोति। एषः शापः ‘कर्मविपाक’ इव वर्तमानकाले फलितः—रामवियोगशोकेन दशरथः इन्द्रियक्षय-चित्तनाशान् अनुभूय, रामदर्शनाभावं महादुःखतमं मन्यमानः, कौसल्यासुमित्रयोः सन्निधौ अर्धरात्रोत्तरं प्राणान् जहाति।
अयोध्याकाण्डे पञ्चषष्टितमः सर्गः — Daśaratha’s Death Discovered in the Palace (Morning Rites Turn to Lament)
Sarga 65 stages a ritual-to-tragedy transition inside the royal residence. At dawn, panegyrists, bards (sūtāḥ), singers, and attendants arrive in established court protocol, reciting auspicious benedictions and filling the palace with praise, music, and sacred sound. Bathing preparations are assembled according to tradition: water scented with yellow sandal, vessels, unguents, and sensory offerings, all described as orderly and of excellent quality. Yet the king does not appear; attendants wait until sunrise, anxiety rising into suspicion. Bed-attending women approach Daśaratha’s chamber with restraint, touch the bed, and find no sign of life, trembling as their apprehension becomes certainty. The inner apartments erupt in loud wailing; Kausalyā and Sumitrā awaken to the cries, touch the king, and collapse in grief. Other queens led by Kaikeyī also fall senseless, and the palace—once resonant with eulogy—reverberates with lamentation, marking the public collapse of joy and the onset of collective mourning.
अयोध्यायां शोकविलापः — Lamentation in Ayodhya after Daśaratha’s death
Sarga 66 stages a concentrated mourning sequence following Daśaratha’s ascent to heaven. Kausalyā, overwhelmed by grief, lifts the king’s head onto her lap and addresses Kaikeyī with accusatory lament, framing the catastrophe through stark similes (extinguished fire, waterless ocean, sun without radiance). Her speech expands the circle of suffering: Sītā’s vulnerability to the terrors of the forest, and Janaka’s likely collapse under grief. Kausalyā voices a self-destructive resolve to enter fire with her husband’s body, marking the extremity of widowhood anguish in royal contexts. Attendant women restrain and lead her away, while the ministers, instructed by senior authorities, preserve the corpse in an oil trough, explicitly postponing obsequies until a son is present—an articulation of dynastic-ritual protocol. The women of the palace lament collectively, and the city of Ayodhyā is depicted as dimmed and disordered, likened to moonless night or day without the sun. Public sentiment turns into denunciation of Kaikeyī, showing how private court decisions reverberate as civic trauma and moral judgment.
अयोध्यायां शोक-रात्रिः तथा अराजक-राष्ट्रस्य नीतिविचारः (The Night of Lamentation in Ayodhya and the Political Ethics of a Kingless Realm)
सर्गे अयोध्यायाः रात्रिः “आक्रन्दित-निरानन्दा” इति वर्ण्यते—दशरथ-निधनानन्तरं रामस्य वनवासे च नगरं शोकाकुलं भवति। प्रातःकाले राजाभिषेक-कर्तारः द्विजातयः सभां प्रविशन्ति, वसिष्ठं राजपुरोहितं प्रति मार्कण्डेय-प्रमुखाः ब्राह्मणाः तथा अमात्याः पृथक् मतानि निवेदयन्ति। केन्द्रीय-उपदेशः ‘अराजक’ स्थितेः सामाजिक-विघटनम्: वर्षा-नियमः, कृषिः, धन-सुरक्षा, न्याय-व्यवहारः, यज्ञ-प्रवृत्तिः, उत्सव-संस्कृतिः, व्यापार-मार्ग-सुरक्षा, सैन्य-प्रतिरोधः—एते सर्वे राजसत्ता-विना क्षीयन्ते इति क्रमशः प्रतिपाद्यते। उपमान-श्रृङ्खलया (नद्यः अनुदकाः, वनम् अतृणम्, गावः अगोपाला) राज्यस्य ‘पालक’ तत्त्वं स्पष्टं भवति। अन्ते राजा सत्य-धर्मयोः प्रभवः, माता-पिता-तुल्यः हितकरः इति राज-धर्म-मीमांसा स्थाप्य, इक्ष्वाकु-कुले कश्चित् कुमारः (व्यवहारतः भरतस्य आगमन-पूर्वं) अभिषेचनीय इति वसिष्ठं प्रति प्रार्थना क्रियते।
दूतप्रेषणम् — Dispatch of Messengers to Kekaya (Bharata’s Recall)
This sarga documents the court’s operational response after deliberation: Vasiṣṭha, having heard the ministers and brahmins, authorizes an urgent embassy to recall Bharata and Śatrughna from their maternal uncle’s kingdom (Kekaya). He summons identified messengers (Siddhārtha, Vijaya, Jayanta, Aśoka, Nandana) and issues a precise protocol: travel swiftly to Rājagṛha (Kekaya’s capital), conceal signs of grief, convey welfare from the purohita and ministers, and insist on immediate return for an “urgent task.” A key communicative constraint is imposed—do not disclose to Bharata either Rāma’s forest exile or Daśaratha’s death, nor the broader decline afflicting the Raghus—indicating a strategy of controlled information to prevent shock and preserve political stability. The messengers are provisioned with travel necessities and gifts (silk garments and ornaments) for both the Kekaya king and Bharata, reflecting diplomatic etiquette. The chapter then maps their route through notable North Indian landmarks—crossing the Gaṅgā at Hastināpura, moving through Kuru-jāṅgala to Pāñcāla, traversing rivers (Mālinī, Śaradandā, Ikṣumatī, Vipāśā, Śālmalī), and passing Sudāmā mountain where Viṣṇu’s footprints are observed—before arriving at Girivraja by night, emphasizing duty, speed, and geographic specificity.
भरतस्य दुःस्वप्नदर्शनम् — Bharata’s Ominous Dream
Sarga 69 presents Bharata’s interior crisis through a sequence of nightmare-omens coinciding with the messengers’ arrival at the city. At dawn, Bharata is distressed by a dream in which he sees his father Daśaratha in polluted settings and inauspicious actions: falling from a mountain into a cow-dung pool, floating while drinking oil, eating sesame-rice, and repeatedly plunging headfirst into oil while his body is smeared. The dream escalates into cosmic and royal-symbolic inversions—sea dried up, moon fallen, earth darkened, a royal elephant’s tusk shattered, fire suddenly extinguished, earth split, trees dried, smoky ruined mountains—signaling disorder in both nature and polity. Further images show the king clad in black on an iron seat, mocked by dark-complexioned women; then the monarch, adorned in red garlands and red unguents, hastens south on a donkey-yoked chariot, finally dragged by a grotesque rākṣasī in red. Bharata interprets the dream as a death-omen, fears for himself, Rāma, the king, or Lakṣmaṇa, and cites a specific oneiric rule: seeing a person ride a donkey-yoked conveyance portends imminent funeral smoke. Friends attempt diversion through music, dance, drama, and humor, but Bharata remains physiologically and mentally unsettled—parched throat, broken voice, haggard appearance, self-disgust without clear cause—while fear persists due to the king’s “incomprehensible” presence in the vision.
भरतस्य दूतसमागमः तथा केकयराजनः अनुज्ञा (Bharata Meets the Messengers; Kekaya King Grants Leave)
Sarga 70 stages a procedural yet emotionally charged transition from Kekaya to Ayodhyā. As Bharata narrates an ominous dream, Ayodhyā’s mounted messengers arrive at the moat-guarded city of Rājagṛha, are honored by the Kekaya king and prince Yuddhājit, and then respectfully address Bharata. Bharata performs kin-centered inquiry—asking after Daśaratha, Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa, and the queens Kausalyā, Sumitrā, and Kaikeyī—revealing his attentiveness to health, dharma, and household stability. The messengers urge immediate return due to an urgent state matter; they also deliver valuables intended for the Kekaya king and Yuddhājit, which Bharata accepts and reciprocally honors the envoys. Pressed by urgency, Bharata seeks leave from his maternal grandfather, who permits departure, praises Bharata as Kaikeyī’s worthy son, and sends greetings to Vasiṣṭha and the princes. Extensive gift-exchange follows (elephants, horses, gold, textiles, skins, even palace-bred dogs), but Bharata derives no joy; anxiety rises from both the dream and the envoys’ haste. The chapter closes with Bharata departing with Śatrughna under military protection, accompanied by ministers and a large convoy—an outwardly auspicious mobilization shadowed by foreboding.
भरतस्य अयोध्याप्रत्यागमनम् — Bharata’s Return Journey and the Distant Sight of Ayodhya
Sarga 71 tracks Bharata’s approach toward Ayodhyā through a geographically dense itinerary and then pivots to a civic-psychological portrait of the capital in distress. Departing from Rājagṛha and moving eastward, Bharata observes and crosses multiple rivers—Sudāmā, Hlādinī, and the broad, wave-crested Śatadrū flowing westward—followed by additional crossings at named locales (Elādhāna; Sarvatīrtha; Lauhitya). The text emphasizes practical conveyances (hill-born horses; an elephant mount) while cataloging rivers such as Uttānikā, Kuṭikā, and Kapīvatī, presenting a travel log that functions as a narrative map. As Ayodhyā becomes visible from afar—renowned, white-soiled, gardened, and populated by Veda-versed ritual specialists—the mood shifts: Bharata perceives inauspicious signs in domestic and sacred spaces. Houses appear unswept and neglected; doors stand unfastened; offerings and incense are absent; families are hungry; people are tearful, emaciated, and absorbed in grief. The chapter thus juxtaposes a remembered ideal of a ritually vibrant capital with the present suspension of normal religious and household rhythms, using civic decay as an index of royal and moral rupture.
भरतस्य मातृसदनगमनं कैकेय्या दारुणवृत्तान्तकथनं च (Bharata in Kaikeyi’s apartments: revelation of Daśaratha’s death and Rāma’s exile)
Sarga 72 begins with Bharata searching the royal residence and not finding Daśaratha; he proceeds to Kaikeyī’s apartments to seek his father and receive the customary paternal welcome. Noticing ominous emptiness—an unoccupied couch, joyless attendants, and a general absence of royal bustle—he presses Kaikeyī for an exact account of why he was summoned and where the king is. Kaikeyī, driven by political ambition, delivers the dreadful news: Daśaratha has died, lamenting Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa. Bharata collapses in grief, weeps, and laments the loss of the father’s affectionate touch. He then asks for the king’s final message and, fearing any stain on Rāma’s conduct, explicitly inquires whether Rāma committed any wrongdoing (harm, theft, or desire for another’s wife). Kaikeyī denies any fault in Rāma and openly confesses that she demanded Bharata’s kingship and Rāma’s banishment, after which Daśaratha died of sorrow. She urges Bharata to perform funeral rites and accept coronation, framing the city and kingdom as now dependent on him—an invitation that sets up Bharata’s later moral refusal and his commitment to Rāma’s rightful status.
भरतस्य कैकेय्याः प्रति धिक्कारः — Bharata’s Rebuke of Kaikeyi and Affirmation of Ikshvaku Royal Dharma
Sarga 73 presents Bharata’s grief-driven yet legally reasoned denunciation of Kaikeyī after he hears of Daśaratha’s death and the exile of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. He rejects the kingdom as meaningless without father and elder brothers, framing his sorrow as compounded injury. Bharata accuses Kaikeyī of bringing ruin upon the dynasty and intensifying the suffering of Kausalyā and Sumitrā, while stressing that Rāma maintained exemplary conduct toward Kaikeyī as toward his own mother. He then pivots to normative argument: the Ikṣvāku custom crowns the eldest, and younger brothers support him with disciplined respect; Kaikeyī’s actions are portrayed as a rupture of enduring rājadharma and ancestral reputation. Bharata declares he will not fulfill Kaikeyī’s ambition for her son’s accession, vows to retrieve the faultless, people-beloved Rāma from the forest, and resolves to serve him with steadfast inner commitment. The sarga ends with Bharata roaring in grief, likened to a lion in a mountain cave—an image that fuses emotional intensity with moral indictment.
भरतस्य कैकेयी-गर्हा तथा सुरभि-दृष्टान्तः (Bharata’s Reproach of Kaikeyi and the Surabhi Exemplum)
Sarga 74 intensifies Bharata’s repudiation of Kaikeyī after Daśaratha’s death and Rāma’s exile. Bharata, overtaken by wrath, denounces Kaikeyī’s conduct as adharma, portrays the political and social fallout—loss of father, estrangement from brothers, and public hatred—and frames her act as a sin that fractures the Ikṣvāku moral order. He invokes punitive consequences (loss of kingdom, hell, and social abandonment) and articulates his own crisis of legitimacy: he cannot bear the “burden” of a sin attributed to him by association while citizens watch in grief. The sarga then shifts to an illustrative narrative (dṛṣṭānta) about Surabhī/Kāmadhenu: despite having innumerable offspring, she weeps for two overburdened sons (bulls), leading Indra to infer the incomparable dearness of a son. Bharata leverages this exemplum to underscore Kausalyā’s suffering as a mother separated from her only son, thereby sharpening the ethical indictment of Kaikeyī. The chapter closes with Bharata’s vow to restore honor by bringing Rāma back; failing that, he will renounce comfort and enter the ascetic forest. The emotional climax ends with Bharata collapsing to the ground, likened to a fallen festival banner of Indra—an image of exhausted authority and grief.
अयोध्याकाण्डे पञ्चसप्ततितमः सर्गः (Sarga 75: Bharata and Kausalya—Reproach, Oaths, and Reconciliation)
Sarga 75 stages a courtroom-like moral confrontation within the domestic sphere. Bharata regains consciousness, looks upon his grieving mother, and publicly condemns Kaikeyī’s role amid the counsellors, signalling that succession is inseparable from ethical legitimacy (2.75.1). Kauśalyā, overwhelmed by bereavement and suspicion, addresses Bharata with bitter irony, accusing him of desiring a kingdom obtained ‘without obstacle’ through Kaikeyī’s crooked act (2.75.10–16). Bharata replies with a formal denial: he neither sought the kingdom nor knew of the planned consecration, having been away with Śatrughna (2.75.2–4). He then intensifies his self-vindication through a long sequence of conditional imprecations: may the curse-like sins fall upon whoever consented to Rāma’s exile (2.75.21–58), transforming private defense into a ritualized oath-performance. The emotional arc culminates in collapse and supplication—Bharata falls at Kauśalyā’s feet, laments, loses consciousness, and is consoled (2.75.18–19, 59–63). Kauśalyā finally recognizes his steadfastness in dharma and truth, embraces him, and the night passes in grief and exhaustion (2.75.60–65).
दशरथस्य अन्त्येष्टि-विधानम् — Dasaratha’s Funeral Rites and Ayodhya’s Mourning
Sarga 76 shifts from Bharata’s intense lament to the administrative-ritual necessities of royal death. Vasiṣṭha, characterized as the foremost among eloquent sages, counsels Bharata to restrain grief and perform the king’s antyeṣṭi (funeral rites) at the proper time. Bharata regains composure and mobilizes ṛtviks, purohitas, and ācāryas to execute the prescribed procedures: the royal fires are duly handled, the body is removed from its preservative oil enclosure and placed upon an ornamented couch, and attendants carry the remains on a śibikā (litter). The procession is marked by offerings and strewing of gold and garments, followed by construction of a fragrant pyre using sandalwood, agaru, guggal resin, and other woods. Priests offer oblations, chant prayers, and Sāma-chanters sing hymns according to śāstra. The queens, led by Kausalyā, arrive and perform reverse circumambulation (prasavya) around the burning pyre; the soundscape becomes a public lament likened to the cries of krauñcī birds. Water-libations are offered with Bharata, and the city re-enters a structured ten-day mourning period, sleeping on the ground—an integration of grief, rite, and civic order.
और्ध्वदैहिकक्रिया-शोकविलापः (Obsequies for Daśaratha and the Brothers’ Lament)
Sarga 77 stages the ritual and psychological aftermath of Daśaratha’s death. After the ten-day mourning period, Bharata undergoes purification and, on the twelfth day, commissions śrāddha rites, distributing extensive gifts to brāhmaṇas—wealth, food-grain, garments, gems, herds, servants, vehicles, and dwellings—marking the epic’s attention to funerary economy and royal obligation. On the thirteenth day at dawn, Bharata approaches the cremation ground for further purification, sees the ash-and-bone-marked pyre-site, collapses, and laments his father’s departure, Kausalyā’s abandonment, and Rāma’s exile. Śatrughna, overwhelmed by the spectacle of Bharata’s grief and remembrance of the king, also faints and then laments, voicing a metaphor of a ‘sea of sorrow’ sourced in Mantharā and made perilous by Kaikeyī, with boons as an immovable force. Attendants and ministers rush to support them. Vasiṣṭha admonishes Bharata that the thirteenth day has arrived while the remains still await completion of rites, and he teaches the inevitability of dualities (hunger/thirst, pleasure/pain, birth/death). Sumantra similarly consoles Śatrughna with instruction on universal becoming and cessation. The brothers rise, tearful and exhausted, and are urged to finish remaining funerary duties, integrating grief with dharmic procedure.
अष्टसप्ततितमः सर्गः — Śatrughna’s Fury and Bharata’s Restraint (Mantharā Episode)
Sarga 78 stages an ethics-of-anger episode within the Ayodhyā court aftermath. As Bharata, grief-stricken, prepares to depart toward Rāma, Śatrughna speaks with indignation: he questions how Rāma—refuge of beings—could be exiled by a woman, why Lakṣmaṇa did not countermand the exile, and why the king did not restrain himself after weighing right and wrong. Mantharā appears at the palace entrance adorned in royal garments and ornaments; gatekeepers seize and present her as culpable for Rāma’s forest exile and Daśaratha’s death. Hearing this, Śatrughna—steadfast in vows yet overcome by grief—threatens retribution and violently drags Mantharā; her ornaments scatter, and the palace is depicted as glittering like an autumn sky. Companions flee and seek refuge with compassionate Kausalyā. Śatrughna’s fury extends to harsh censure of Kaikeyī, who then seeks Bharata’s protection. Bharata intervenes with a normative injunction: women are not to be slain; he urges pardon. Śatrughna admits he would kill Kaikeyī but for fear of Rāma’s reproach as ‘mother-slayer,’ and he desists, releasing Mantharā. Mantharā collapses at Kaikeyī’s feet, lamenting; Kaikeyī consoles her gently—closing the sarga with a contrast between vengeance, restraint, and courtly compassion.
भरतस्य राज्यत्यागः तथा रामानयनप्रतिज्ञा (Bharata Rejects Kingship and Vows to Bring Rama Back)
At dawn on the fourteenth day, the king-makers (those authorized to proclaim and consecrate a ruler) assemble and urge Bharata to accept immediate kingship, stressing the danger of a leaderless realm after Daśaratha’s death and the availability of coronation materials. Bharata, steadfast in vow, circumambulates the abhiṣeka articles and rejects their proposal on grounds of dynastic propriety: kingship belongs to the eldest, Rāma. He proposes a reversal of roles—he will endure forest life for fourteen years while Rāma is installed as king. Bharata orders practical preparations: marshal a fourfold army, carry the consecration implements before them, and have artisans level and align roads, with guards skilled in assessing difficult terrain. The people and council respond with auspicious acclaim, invoking Lakṣmī upon Bharata for his intention to bestow the kingdom on the rightful heir; tears of joy mark collective relief. The sarga thus fuses constitutional legitimacy, ritual readiness (abhiṣeka), and logistical statecraft into a single ethical declaration: authority is validated by renunciation and fidelity to dharma rather than by opportunity.
मर्गनिर्माणम् (Roadworks and the Royal Route Prepared for Bharata)
Sarga 80 presents a logistical and architectural interlude: authorized officials dispatch specialized guilds—surveyors, measurers, excavators, engineers, architects, carpenters, road-workers, woodcutters, well-diggers, plasterers/whitewashers, bamboo-workers, and supervisors—to prepare Bharata’s route and encampments in advance. The workforce clears vegetation and boulders, levels impassable ground, fills wells and chasms, bridges necessary crossings, crushes and splits obstructive stones to manage drainage, and rapidly constructs water-courses/reservoirs. In arid stretches they dig ornamented drinking wells with circular embankments. The road is then aestheticized as a royal processional way: mosaic paving, blossoming avenues, birdsong, banners, sandal-water sprinkling, and floral strewing—likened to a divine path and to a night sky adorned with moon and stars. Resting-places (nivēśa) are selected in fertile, pleasant tracts and established at astrologically auspicious constellations and muhūrtas; fortified camp-features appear—sand-heaps, moats, walls, mansions, and flag-topped peaks—making the encampments resemble Indra’s city. The sequence culminates as the party reaches the river Jāhnavī (Gaṅgā), described with cool clear waters, abundant fish, and wooded banks, anchoring the narrative in a concrete sacred geography.
एकाशीति तमः सर्गः — Bharata’s Grief, Courtly Summons, and the Assembly Hall
In the late-night period described as nāndīmukhī (an auspiciously begun night), professional bards (सूतमागधाः) and watchmen’s instruments—drums struck with golden sticks and conches in large numbers—create a ceremonial soundscape intended to honor Bharata. The public acclamation, however, intensifies Bharata’s sorrow: already grief-stricken, he rejects the implication of kingship, halts the music, and tells Śatrughna that he is not the king. He attributes civic harm to Kaikeyī’s actions and laments that the kingdom’s fortune now spins like a helmsmanless boat, since Rāma—protector of all—has been exiled. Bharata’s lamentation culminates in a collapse, prompting the women of the inner quarters to cry out in unison. Parallel to this domestic crisis, Vasiṣṭha—expert in royal law (राजधर्मवित्)—enters Daśaratha’s assembly hall, depicted as a gem-inlaid, golden सभा likened to Indra’s Sudharmā. Seated on a golden throne with comfortable coverings, Vasiṣṭha orders messengers to urgently summon the varṇa groups, ministers, commanders, royal attendants, Bharata, Śatrughna, Yudhājit, Sumantra, and other well-wishers. As invitees arrive by chariots, horses, and elephants, a great tumult arises; when Bharata approaches, the subjects greet him as they once greeted Daśaratha, and the hall shines as if Daśaratha were present again—an image that binds legitimacy, memory, and public consensus.
भरतस्य धर्मप्रतिज्ञा तथा रामनिवर्तनयात्रा (Bharata’s Vow of Dharma and the Expedition to Recall Rama)
Sarga 82 stages a formal sabhā (assembly) scene in Ayodhyā, described through lunar similes and the brilliance of eminent members. Vasiṣṭha, invoking rājadharma and the completed transfer of sovereignty, urges Bharata to accept consecration and enjoy a thornless kingdom enriched by tribute. Bharata, overwhelmed by grief and moral revulsion, publicly rejects any notion of usurping Rāma’s rightful rule, declaring both himself and the kingdom to belong to Rāma. He condemns the sin associated with his mother’s deed, frames acceptance of the throne as a disgrace to the Ikṣvāku line, and vows either to bring Rāma back or to dwell in the forest like Lakṣmaṇa. The assembly responds with tears of joy at Bharata’s dharmic speech. Operationally, Bharata orders Sumantra to mobilize leaders and troops; scouts and road-protectors are already dispatched, households and military units harness vehicles and animals, and preparations begin for an expedition aimed at appeasing Rāma and restoring him for the welfare of the world.
अयोध्याकाण्डे त्र्यशीति तमः सर्गः — Bharata’s Departure and Encampment on the Gaṅgā (Śṛṅgīberapura)
Sarga 83 narrates Bharata’s dawn departure in an excellent chariot, driven by a focused longing to see Rama. Ministers and priests proceed in front on sun-like chariots, while the mobilized royal force is quantified with formal precision—elephants, chariots, and mounted horses—signaling state capacity redirected toward reconciliation rather than conquest. The queens (Kaikeyī, Sumitrā, Kausalyā) travel in a resplendent vehicle, and the civic body follows in celebratory solidarity, speaking of Rama’s virtues as a collective antidote to grief. The chapter notably catalogs occupational groups—artisans, merchants, service professions, performers, and fishermen—marking the breadth of urban participation and the social ecology of Ayodhyā. After a long journey by chariots, carriages, horses, and elephants, the procession reaches the Gaṅgā near Śṛṅgīberapura, the domain of Guha, Rama’s ally, portrayed as vigilant and well-governed. The army halts on the bird-graced riverbank; Bharata instructs ministers to camp as convenient, plans to cross the next day, and performs intended water-libations for the departed king. The sarga closes with Bharata reflecting on methods to bring Rama back, framing political action as ethical restoration.
गुहस्य सन्देहः, गङ्गातीर-रक्षा, भरतस्य सत्कारः (Guha’s Suspicion, Securing the Ganga Bank, and Hospitality to Bharata)
Sarga 84 stages a tense encounter at the Gaṅgā’s bank where Guha, chief of the Niṣādas, sees Bharata’s bannered army encamped along the river and initially interprets the force as a possible threat to the exiled Rāma. He voices strategic anxieties—whether Bharata comes to bind or kill the river-folk—and orders a defensive river posture: fishermen and river-guards to hold positions, and five hundred boats to be readied with fully equipped crews. The conditional logic is explicit: if Bharata is proved not ill-disposed toward Rāma, the army may safely cross that very day. As the situation clarifies, Guha approaches Bharata with offerings (fish, meat, wine) and requests him to lodge in his servant-household, presenting his territory as subordinate and welcoming. Sumantra functions as a diplomatic mediator, identifying Guha as an aged friend of Rāma, knowledgeable of the Dandaka region, and advising Bharata to grant audience—thus converting suspicion into alliance and establishing the Gaṅgā corridor as a controlled, ethically negotiated passage.
भरत-गुहसंवादः (Bharata and Guha: Trust, Hospitality, and the Burden of Grief)
Sarga 85 stages a carefully calibrated dialogue between Bharata and Guha, the Niṣāda leader, to resolve suspicion and secure safe passage through the difficult Gāṅgā terrain toward Bharadvāja’s āśrama. Guha, attentive to security, questions whether Bharata’s large army conceals hostile intent toward Rāma; Bharata replies with measured gentleness, affirming Rāma as his revered elder—“equal to a father”—and explicitly states his purpose: to bring Rāma back, urging Guha to abandon doubt. The exchange then shifts to ethics of hospitality and alliance: Bharata praises Guha’s noble willingness to host an entire force, while Guha, delighted, extols Bharata’s renunciatory intent and predicts enduring fame. The setting transitions as daylight fades and night arrives; Bharata encamps and retires with Śatrughna. The chapter closes with an interior portrait of Bharata’s grief—rendered through extended mountain-and-forest-fire imagery—depicting sorrow as an inward conflagration that produces physical effects (sweat, fever of the heart) and mental disorientation, while Guha attempts consolation focused on Rāma.
लक्ष्मणगुणवर्णनम् — Lakshmana’s Vigil and Guha’s Testimony
Sarga 86 is structured around night-long vigilance and lamentation at the riverbank, where the forest leader Guha articulates Lakṣmaṇa’s character to Bharata. Guha first reports Lakṣmaṇa’s steadfast wakefulness—armed and alert solely for Rāma’s protection—and offers a prepared bed, emphasizing protective hospitality and allied duty. Guha’s speech frames loyalty as a disciplined, embodied practice (weapons held, sleep refused) and as an ethical economy (seeking renown and dharma through service to Rāma). The discourse then shifts into pathos: Bharata’s inability to sleep while Rāma lies on grass with Sītā, and the contrast between Rāma’s invincibility in battle and his voluntary austerity in exile. Bharata anticipates Daśaratha’s imminent death and the palace’s exhausted mourning, projecting a civic-theological image of the ‘widowed earth’ without the king. The sarga closes with dawn actions: Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa adopt jaṭā (matted hair) on the Bhāgīrathī’s bank, are ferried across by Guha, and depart with Sītā in bark garments, armed and vigilant—an icon of kṣātra power redirected into ascetic exile.
गुहसंवादः—रामस्य रात्रिवासवर्णनम् (Dialogue with Guha: Account of Rama’s Night Halt)
अस्मिन् सर्गे गुहस्य वचनं श्रुत्वा भरतः अत्यन्तदुःखितः सन् ध्यानमगात्; क्षणं प्रत्याश्वस्य पुनः शोकवेगेन पतति, शत्रुघ्नः च तं परिष्वज्य शोकात् विसंज्ञो भवति। ततः भरतस्य मातरः उपवासकृशाः दीनाः समापेत्य पतितं भरतं परिवव्रुः; कौसल्या विशेषतः वात्सल्येन तं उपगूह्य आरोग्यं तथा कुलजीवन-निर्भरत्वं पृच्छति, तथा लक्ष्मण-रामयोः विषये ‘किंचिदपि अप्रियम्’ न श्रुतमिति आश्वासनं याचते। भरतः मुहूर्तं समाश्वस्य कौसल्यां परिसान्त्वयित्वा गुहं पृच्छति—रामः सीता लक्ष्मणश्च क्व रात्रौ अवसन्, किं भुक्त्वा, कस्मिन् शयने अस्वपन् इति। गुहः हृष्टः सन् आतिथ्यवृत्तान्तं निवेदयति: बह्वन्न-फल-भक्ष्याणि उपहृतानि, किन्तु रामः क्षात्रधर्मं स्मरन् प्रतिग्रहं नाङ्गीकृत्य ‘देयं सर्वदा, न प्रतिग्राह्यम्’ इति मैत्री-उपदेशेन अनुनीतवान्। रामः सीतया सह लक्ष्मणानीतं जलं पीत्वा औपवास्यं चकार; लक्ष्मणः शेषजलेन तृप्तः, त्रयोऽपि वाग्यताः सन्ध्योपासनां चक्रुः। ततः लक्ष्मणः बर्हीषि (दर्भ) आनीय शुभं स्वास्तरं निर्माय राम-सीतयोः पादौ प्रक्षाल्य दूरं स्थित्वा रात्रिं पर्यरक्षत्; स्वयं गुहः अपि स्वजनैः सशस्त्रैः लक्ष्मणस्य समीपे स्थित्वा महेन्द्रकल्पं रामं परिपालयामास। सर्गः भ्रातृभक्ति, आतिथ्यधर्म, क्षात्र-नैतिकता, तथा तपोमय-वनजीवनस्य अनुशासनं इति विषयान् समन्वयति।
रामशय्यादर्शनम् — Bharata Beholds Rama’s Forest Bed
In this chapter Bharata, having heard Guha’s report, arrives with ministers at the ingudī tree and visually examines the crushed grass-bed where Rama slept on the ground. Speaking to his mothers, he turns observation into ethical reflection: the scene feels unreal, as if a dream, and he interprets it as evidence that Kāla (Time/Destiny) overpowers all worldly supports. He notes Sītā’s presence through traces of gold dust and silken threads, inferring her ornaments and garment touched the bedding; the material details intensify the pathos of royal austerity. Bharata contrasts Rama’s former palace luxury—gold-and-silver floors, perfumes, music, and panegyrics—with the present hardship of sleeping on bare earth, and he condemns himself as the cause of this displacement. He praises Lakṣmaṇa’s fidelity and acknowledges Sītā’s fulfilled purpose in following her husband. The political dimension emerges as Bharata likens the kingdom to a helmsmanless ship after Daśaratha’s death and Rama’s exile, describing Ayodhyā as dangerously unguarded and demoralized. The sarga closes with Bharata’s vow: he will adopt ascetic life, even live in the forest to uphold Rama’s vow, and persist in supplication until Rama accepts restoration.
गङ्गातरणम् — Bharata’s Ferrying of the Army across the Ganga
After spending the night on the Gaṅgā’s bank at the very campsite earlier used by Rāma, Bharata rises at daybreak and urges Śatrughna to summon Guha, the Niṣāda chief, to arrange passage for the marching host. Śatrughna replies that he is awake, absorbed in thought of Rāma, as Guha arrives with folded hands and inquires about the army’s comfort. Bharata, described as obedient to Rāma’s will, requests that Guha’s fisherfolk ferry them across. Guha issues rapid orders to his kin: boats are hauled down and, by royal command, five hundred vessels are assembled from all directions, including ornate “Svāstika” boats with bells, sails, flags, and solid build; Guha personally brings an auspicious, white-canopied boat. Boarding proceeds with ritual-social order: priests and brahmins first, then Bharata and Śatrughna, the queens (Kauśalyā, Sumitrā, and other royal women), followed by wagons and supplies. Amid the clamour of breaking camp and loading goods, the fleet moves swiftly; some boats carry women, others horses, draught animals, and treasures. Those unable to board cross by rafts, pots, or swimming. Elephants, bannered and goaded by mahouts, ford the waters like flag-topped mountains. Having been ferried at the auspicious Maitra muhūrta, the army reaches the Prayāga forest; Bharata encamps the force and then proceeds, accompanied by priests, to visit the eminent sage Bharadvāja, where he beholds the hermitage’s charming huts and groves.
भरद्वाजाश्रमगमनम् (Bharata at Bharadvāja’s Hermitage)
Sarga 90 stages Bharata’s approach to Bharadvāja’s āśrama as a carefully coded act of humility and political self-disclosure. Seeing the hermitage from one krośa away, Bharata halts the entire army, lays aside royal weapons and insignia, and proceeds on foot with ministers while placing the family priest Vasiṣṭha in front—signaling deference to ritual authority and a non-coercive intent. Bharadvāja receives them with ascetic protocol (arghya, pādya, fruits) and inquires after Ayodhyā’s welfare while pointedly omitting Daśaratha, implying knowledge of the king’s death. Out of affection for Rāma, Bharadvāja presses Bharata for the reason behind his arrival and articulates the suspicion that Bharata might seek unobstructed rule by harming the exiled Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. Bharata responds with grief, rejects his mother’s actions undertaken in his absence, and declares his purpose: to worship Rāma’s feet and persuade him to return to Ayodhyā. Having tested and then affirmed Bharata’s inner disposition, Bharadvāja praises his self-restraint and guru-bhakti, reveals Rāma’s current residence at Citrakūṭa with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, and requests Bharata to stay the night before departing the next day.
भरद्वाजाश्रमे भरतसैन्यस्य दिव्यात्मिथ्यम् / Divine Hospitality to Bharata’s Army at Bharadvaja’s Hermitage
Sarga 91 stages a ritualized encounter between polity and ascetic space. Bharata resolves to stay at Bharadvāja’s āśrama for the night, and the sage extends hospitality (2.91.1–4). Bharadvāja questions Bharata’s decision to keep the army at a distance; Bharata replies that he feared disturbance to the hermitage—trees, water, land, and huts—and therefore approached alone, articulating a principle of royal restraint near tapasvin communities (2.91.5–9). At the sage’s command, the army is summoned (2.91.10). Bharadvāja enters the agniśālā, performs purification, and invokes Viśvakarman and Tvaṣṭṛ for logistical creation, along with guardians of directions, rivers, Gandharvas, Apsarases, Kubera’s divine forest, and Soma for abundant food and drink (2.91.11–21). Celestial signs follow—cooling breezes, flower-rain, music, and rhythmic sound—after which the army beholds Viśvakarman’s engineered landscape: level ground, fruit-laden trees, divine river, stables, archways, and a jewel-filled royal mansion (2.91.24–39). The narrative then expands into a catalog of provisioning: rivers of payasa, houses, thousands of women and Apsarases, music by Gandharva kings, bathing and anointing, feeding of animals, and vast stores of food, utensils, clothing, and equipment (2.91.41–80). The soldiers, astonished as if in a dream, revel through the night; by morning the summoned beings depart with permission, leaving behind traces of fragrance and garlands (2.91.81–84). The chapter’s thematic lesson is that hospitality (ātithya) can operate as a dharmic technology—binding warrior-force to discipline—while also highlighting the sanctity of ascetic habitats and the king’s duty not to harm them.
भरद्वाजाश्रमात् चित्रकूटमार्गनिर्देशः — Directions from Bharadvaja’s Hermitage to Chitrakuta
After receiving hospitality at Bharadvāja’s āśrama, Bharata—with a full retinue—formally takes leave and requests precise route guidance to reach Rāma. Bharadvāja describes the geography: Chitrakūṭa lies about three-and-a-half yojanas away in a solitary forest; on its northern side flows the Mandākinī, bordered by flowering trees, and beyond the river rises the mountain where Rāma and Sītā dwell in a leaf-hut. He instructs Bharata’s army to proceed by a southern or south-western path to encounter Rāghava. Hearing of departure, Daśaratha’s queens step down from their vehicles and approach the sage: Kauśalyā and Sumitrā in visible grief, and Kaikeyī in shame; Bharata then identifies the mothers individually, praising Kauśalyā as Rāma’s mother, naming Sumitrā as mother of Lakṣmaṇa and Śatrughna, and condemning Kaikeyī as the perceived root of the calamity. Bharadvāja replies with interpretive counsel, advising Bharata not to impute fault to Kaikeyī, asserting that Rāma’s exile will ultimately yield welfare for gods, demons, and sages. Bharata circumambulates the sage, orders the army to harness vehicles, and the force departs southward—elephants, chariots, infantry, and royal women—moving like a rising cloud through forests and riverine terrain beyond the Gaṅgā.
चित्रकूटमार्गवर्णनम् — Bharata’s Army Reaches Chitrakuta and Searches for Rama
Sarga 93 depicts Bharata’s righteous advance with a vast fourfold army whose movement transforms the forest soundscape and ecology: elephants and deer scatter, birds fall silent, and dust rises only to be swept away by the wind. The chapter then pivots to geographic recognition—Bharata identifies Citrakūṭa and the Mandākinī, describing ridges, flowering trees, and animal-filled slopes with layered similes (clouds, ocean-waves, autumn skies). Addressing Śatrughna, the narration emphasizes how the landscape, though naturally formidable, appears hospitable due to ascetic presence—“like a pathway to heaven.” The tactical objective follows: Bharata orders a controlled search, halting the army while he proceeds with Sumantra and Vasiṣṭha. Scouts observe a column of smoke and infer habitation, reasoning that fire cannot exist in a place devoid of people; thus Rama and Lakshmana are likely nearby (or ascetics resembling them). The sarga closes with the army’s restrained anticipation and joy at the imminent reunion, linking environmental description to ethical restraint and purposeful governance.
चित्रकूटवर्णनम् (Description of Chitrakūṭa) / Rama Shows Sita Chitrakuta
Sarga 94 is a sustained ecological and ethical varṇana in which Rāma, long resident on the mountain and now fond of forest life, deliberately pleases Sītā (and steadies his own mind) by showing her the ‘wonderful’ Citrakūṭa, likened to Indra presenting marvels to Śacī. He reframes exile as psychologically non-painful when set against the mountain’s beauty, and then catalogues its features: mineral-bright peaks; non-hostile wildlife; dense groves of flowering and fruit-bearing trees; kinneras and vidyādharīs implied through signs of leisure (garments and swords hung on branches); waterfalls, springs, and fragrant cave-breezes. The chapter blends sensory mapping (sight, scent, sound) with dharma discourse: Rāma affirms that living here with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa can dissolve grief, and he articulates a ‘twofold fruit’ of forest-dwelling—fulfilling paternal obligation in righteousness and bringing pleasure to Bharata. The sarga closes by elevating forest-life as nectar-like for a king’s posthumous welfare and by portraying Citrakūṭa as surpassing celestial exemplars in abundance of roots, fruits, and water.
मन्दाकिनीनदीदर्शनम् (The Vision of the Mandākinī at Citrakūṭa)
Sarga 95 is a scenic-theological tableau in which Rāma, having descended from the mountain at Citrakūṭa, guides Sītā’s perception of the Mandākinī. He points out variegated sandbanks, lotus-filled waters, and banks crowded with flowering and fruit-bearing trees, comparing the river’s beauty to Kubera’s lake Nalini. The chapter integrates natural observation with ritual life: ṛṣis bathe at appointed times, and other ascetics worship the Sun with uplifted arms, situating the landscape within disciplined religious practice. Wind-shaken treetops make the mountain appear to “dance,” while fallen blossoms form floating heaps on which sweet-voiced cakravāka birds alight. Rāma’s discourse reframes exile as a superior mode of life: seeing Citrakūṭa and Mandākinī with Sītā surpasses residence in Ayodhyā, and he invites her to enter the river ‘like a friend,’ imagining Mandākinī as Sarayū and the mountain as Ayodhyā. The sarga closes with a statement of contentment—simple foods, thrice-daily bathing, companionship—wherein desire for kingdom and city is suspended by dharmic serenity.
चित्रकूटे सैन्यधूलिशब्ददर्शनम् (Alarm at Chitrakūṭa: Lakṣmaṇa sights the approaching army)
At Citrakūṭa, Rāma shows Sītā the Mandākinī mountain-river and, in a domestic-ritual register, offers roasted meat while seated with her. The calm is interrupted by sky-reaching dust and a tumult raised by an approaching force, which panics elephant-herd leaders and other forest animals. Rāma instructs Lakṣmaṇa to reconnoiter—framing the uncertainty as possibly a royal hunt or a dangerous beast—and emphasizes swift, exact assessment despite the mountain’s inaccessibility. Lakṣmaṇa climbs a flowering śāla tree, scans the horizons, and identifies a vast, well-equipped army with chariots, horses, elephants, infantry, and banners; he urges immediate precautions: extinguishing the sacred fire, securing Sītā in a cave, stringing the bow, readying arrows, and donning armor. When Rāma asks whose army it is, Lakṣmaṇa—angered like a blazing fire—misreads the approach as Bharata’s hostile attempt to eliminate them for uncontested kingship, citing the Kovidāra-tree emblem on the chariot standard. The sarga thus juxtaposes pastoral exile-life with sudden political-military anxiety, highlighting reconnaissance, restraint vs. wrath, and the ethical risk of acting on incomplete information.
भरतागमनशङ्कानिवारणम् / Dispelling Suspicion about Bharata’s Arrival (Chitrakuta Encampment)
Sarga 97 centers on Rāma’s measured pacification of Lakṣmaṇa, who is overwhelmed by anger and suspicion upon perceiving an approaching force near Citrakūṭa. Rāma argues through ethical inference: Bharata is naturally brother-affectionate, dearer than life, and would have come only after learning of the exile, motivated by kula-dharma and grief rather than hostility. He further reasons that any kingdom gained through violence against kin would be morally tainted, likened to poisoned food, and thus unacceptable. Rāma prohibits harsh speech against Bharata, asserting that such words would effectively target himself. He also frames fratricide and patricide as unthinkable even in calamity, and offers a rhetorical test: if Lakṣmaṇa’s concern is kingship, Rāma would ask Bharata to transfer it to Lakṣmaṇa—confident Bharata would consent. Lakṣmaṇa, shamed, revises his inference, momentarily thinking Daśaratha himself has come, while observational details (horses, the elephant Śatruñjaya, absence of the royal white canopy) create narrative ambiguity. The sarga concludes with Bharata’s instruction to prevent crowding and the army’s disciplined encampment around the mountain, foregrounding humility and dharma in statecraft.
चित्रकूटप्रवेशः — Bharata Enters the Forest Toward Chitrakuta
After encamping the army in assigned positions, Bharata resolves to approach Rāma on foot, emphasizing humility and filial-ethical intent rather than royal display. He instructs Śatrughna to rapidly survey the forest with groups of men and hunters, while Guha—armed and accompanied by a thousand kinsmen—searches for Rāma within the wooded terrain. Bharata declares a sequence of vows: he will not find peace until he sees Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa, and Sītā; until he beholds Rāma’s moon-bright, lotus-eyed countenance; until he bears Rāma’s royal-marked feet upon his head; and until Rāma, rightful heir to the ancestral kingdom, is established through consecration. The narration then shifts into topographical and devotional description: Chitrakūṭa is praised as blessed, likened to the king of mountains, and the forest is called “accomplished” by hosting the radiant, weapon-bearing Rāma. Bharata proceeds through flowering tree-groves on mountain slopes, notices a tall banner of smoke from the hermitage fire, rejoices with his relatives as one reaching the far bank, and—having kept the army at a distance—hastens with Guha toward the pious hermitage on Chitrakūṭa.
चित्रकूटप्राप्तिः — Bharata Reaches Chitrakuta and Beholds Rama
Sarga 99 traces Bharata’s final approach to Rāma’s forest residence near Citrakūṭa, turning the landscape into a navigational archive of exile. After encamping the army, Bharata hastens ahead and instructs Vasiṣṭha to bring the queens (2.99.1–3). En route he identifies the hermitage by material and ecological markers: shattered firewood and gathered flowers near the hut, dung-cake heaps prepared against cold, and path-signs on trees—kusa and bark strips, including bark garments fastened high as identification for movement at odd times (2.99.5–12). He notes the Mandākinī’s proximity and the ascetics’ perpetual fire by its thick smoke (2.99.9–12). Overcome with remorse, Bharata anticipates meeting the ‘maharṣi-like’ Rāma and laments the inversion of royal dignity—Rāma seated on the ground in vīrāsana in a secluded forest (2.99.13–17). He then beholds the parṇaśālā described with ritual and martial imagery—leaf-covered like a sacrificial altar, adorned with bows, quivers of sun-bright arrows, swords in silver scabbards, shields, and iguana-skin finger-guards—‘impregnable’ like a lion’s cave (2.99.18–23). Bharata sees the sacred altar sloping northeast with a burning fire (2.99.24), and finally Rāma himself: clad in antelope skin and bark garments, radiant like fire, seated with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa on darbha-strewn ground, likened to eternal Brahmā (2.99.25–28). Bharata rushes forward weeping, repeatedly crying “Ārya,” collapses before reaching Rāma’s feet, and is embraced along with Śatrughna; the meeting expands to include Sumantra and Guha, witnessed by forest-dwellers who shed tears rather than joy (2.99.29–42).
शततमः सर्गः — Rāma Questions Bharata on Rājadharma (Governance, Counsel, and Public Welfare)
Sarga 100 opens with a stark visual reversal: Rāma beholds Bharata in ascetic guise—matted locks and bark garments—collapsed on the ground with folded hands, compared to the unbearable sun at cosmic dissolution (2.100.1). Rāma embraces and lifts the emaciated Bharata (2.100.2–3), then turns to a sustained interrogative discourse framed by repeated kaccit (“I trust/Is it so?”). The questions move from familial welfare (Daśaratha’s condition; the queens; the honoring of Vasiṣṭha and priests) to a systematic audit of statecraft: selection and secrecy of counsel, appointment of qualified ministers and commanders, intelligence via spies, proportional punishment, fiscal discipline, fortification readiness, timely pay for troops, protection of agriculture and cattle-wealth, public accessibility of the ruler, and impartial justice. Rāma warns against atheistic sophistry and enumerates royal faults to be avoided, emphasizing that confidential, scripture-informed counsel is the root of victory. The sarga thus functions as a compact manual of rājadharma embedded in fraternal compassion, culminating in the principle that righteous governance leads to heavenly ascent (2.100.76).
भरतस्य धर्मनिश्चयः — Bharata Affirms Lineage-Dharma and Urges Rama’s Coronation
In this sarga, Bharata responds to Rāma’s words with a self-accusation of having fallen from righteousness if he were to accept kingship while the elder brother lives. He cites an ancestral, enduring rule of the Ikṣvāku line: when the eldest son stands, the younger cannot rightly become king. Bharata then urges Rāma to return with him to prosperous Ayodhyā and undergo consecration for the welfare of the dynasty. He articulates a theology of governance: although some regard the king as merely human, Bharata considers the king ‘divine’ insofar as his conduct and statecraft align with dharma and exceed ordinary capacity. The discourse turns to mourning: Bharata reports that while he was in Kekaya and Rāma had departed to the forest, King Daśaratha—sacrificial, revered by the virtuous—ascended to heaven, overwhelmed by grief immediately after Rāma’s departure with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa. Bharata calls upon Rāma to rise and offer water-libations to their father, noting that offerings made by a beloved son become imperishable in the world of the ancestors. The sarga closes by emphasizing Daśaratha’s final mental fixation on Rāma, portraying death as the culmination of sorrow and longing.
पितृमरणश्रवणं जलक्रिया च (Hearing of Daśaratha’s death and the libation rites at Mandākinī)
This sarga centers on the shock of bereavement and the immediate transition from speech to ritual action. Bharata reports Daśaratha’s death; Rāma, struck by the news, loses consciousness, likened to a flowering tree felled by an axe and to a thunderbolt’s impact. Regaining awareness, Rāma articulates grief through dharmic reflection: he questions returning to a leaderless Ayodhyā, laments that he could not perform his father’s last rites, and wonders who will guide him when the father has gone to the other world. He acknowledges Bharata and Śatrughna for honoring the king with full obsequial rites, then informs Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa of the death, provoking shared tears among the brothers. The group proceeds to the auspicious Mandākinī tīrtha under Sumantra’s guidance, performs udaka offerings facing the southern (Yama) direction, and completes nivāpa/pinda offerings using ingudī pulp mixed with badarī fruit on darbha grass. The public and Bharata’s soldiers, hearing the tumult of lament, rush toward the hermitage; even animals and birds are described as startled, amplifying the scene’s communal and ecological resonance. The chapter thus maps grief into ritual obligation, portraying maryādā as maintained even amid emotional collapse.
पिण्डदानदर्शनम् — The Queens Behold Rama’s Śrāddha Offering
Vasiṣṭha proceeds on foot toward the Mandākinī-side tīrtha, leading Daśaratha’s queens who are eager to see Rāma. The party reaches the bathing place frequented by Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. Kauśalyā, tearful and physically worn by grief, points out the forest-side sacred spot where the exiled trio have been compelled to live with hardship. She notes Lakṣmaṇa’s tireless service in fetching water for Rāma and expresses a wish that he be spared degrading toil. Kauśalyā then sees the piṇḍa—cakes of iṅgudī pulp—placed on darbha grass with tips oriented southward, offered by Rāma to his father according to tradition. The contrast between Daśaratha’s former imperial luxury and the austere forest offering triggers a lament: she doubts such food is fitting for a ‘god-like’ king and declares nothing more painful than Rāma’s reduced condition. A proverbial reflection follows: as a man’s food is, so too is the food of his gods—here felt as tragically verified. The co-wives console Kauśalyā and behold Rāma in the hermitage, radiant yet like a god ‘fallen from heaven.’ The mothers weep; Rāma rises, reverently touches their feet, and they wipe dust from his back. Lakṣmaṇa likewise bows; the queens extend to him the same affection as to Rāma. Sītā, grief-stricken, grasps her mothers-in-law’s feet; Kauśalyā embraces her like a daughter and mourns her hardship, using layered similes for Sītā’s weathered face and describing grief as arani-kindled fire consuming its own support. Rāma then clasps Vasiṣṭha’s feet and sits with him; Bharata sits nearby with folded hands, and the assembly wonders what he will say. Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa, and Bharata, surrounded by friends, shine like three sacrificial fires encircled by officiants.
भरतस्य प्रार्थना—रामस्य धर्मोपदेशः (Bharata’s Petition and Rama’s Dharma-Reasoning)
This sarga is a tightly structured dialogue on succession, culpability, and obedience. After Rama consoles Bharata (with Lakshmana present), Rama questions why Bharata has arrived in ascetic garb. Bharata reports Dasharatha’s death following the ‘impossible act’ of banishing Rama, condemns Kaikeyi’s instigation, and urges Rama’s immediate coronation to satisfy widowed queens and the subjects. Bharata frames the request via primogeniture, public consent, and ministerial support, bowing and grasping Rama’s feet in formal submission. Rama responds by affirming Bharata’s nobility, denying any fault in him, and cautioning against childish reproach of one’s mother; he cites śāstric latitude of elders toward wives and sons, and insists that the parental command is binding. Rama articulates the ‘division’ made publicly by Dasharatha—Bharata to rule Ayodhya, Rama to dwell in Dandaka for fourteen years—treating the father’s proclamation as pramāṇa (authoritative guide) and preserving the overlordship of dharma over personal ambition.
भरतस्य प्रार्थना—रामस्य कालधर्मोपदेशः (Bharata’s Petition and Rama’s Instruction on Time and Mortality)
Sarga 105 opens with a night of collective lament for the four brothers, surrounded by their well-wishers; at dawn they complete rites on the Mandākinī’s bank and reassemble. In the ensuing silence, Bharata addresses Rāma: he offers to return the kingdom, argues that the realm is unsustainable without Rāma, and frames his own inadequacy through vivid comparisons. Bharata’s central rhetorical device is a simile of a carefully nurtured tree that blossoms yet bears no fruit—implying Daśaratha’s lifelong hope will be unfulfilled unless Rāma accepts kingship. Public sentiment in Ayodhyā is also invoked, envisioning guilds and subjects beholding Rāma installed like the sun, with royal elephants trumpeting and palace women rejoicing. Rāma responds by consoling Bharata through a sustained kāla-dharma discourse: human agency is limited, fate draws beings in contrary directions, and all worldly compounds end—wealth in depletion, elevation in descent, union in separation, life in death. He reinforces impermanence through natural analogies (ripened fruit must fall; sturdy houses decay; nights do not return; rivers flow onward; days and nights consume lifespan like summer sun dries water). Death is portrayed as an inseparable companion, and grief is framed as philosophically unproductive. The chapter closes with Rāma’s firm commitment to obey Daśaratha’s command via forest-dwelling, urging Bharata to return to Ayodhyā and uphold royal duty; the wise should avoid lamentation in all states.
भरतवाक्यं—रामस्य पुनरायोध्यागमननिषेधः (Bharata’s Plea and Rama’s Refusal to Return)
On the bank of the Mandākinī, after Rāma’s meaningful statement, Bharata replies with a sustained, dharma-argumentative appeal. He praises Rāma’s equanimity and consultative habit, confesses Kaikeyī’s wrongdoing done “for his sake,” and explains his restraint from punishing her due to dharma-bonds. Bharata then frames a moral dilemma: how can one born of noble Daśaratha knowingly commit an adharma act; yet he also invokes the proverb that the dying become deluded, suggesting Daśaratha’s lapse arose from anger, delusion, or recklessness. He urges Rāma to “set right” the father’s transgression, defining true sonship as correcting paternal wrongs rather than endorsing them. Bharata expands the stakes to the whole polity—mother, kin, friends, and city/countryside subjects—and argues that enthronement is the primary kṣatriya-duty enabling protection of prajā. He contrasts forest austerities (jaṭā, araṇya) with governance, questions uncertain future-oriented piety over immediate royal obligation, and requests consecration on the spot by priests and elders. The chapter ends with communal endorsement of Bharata’s words, but Rāma remains fixed in Daśaratha’s command and refuses to return, leaving onlookers simultaneously grieved and admiring of his steadfast vow.
पितृवाक्यपालनम्, गयाश्रुति-उपदेशः, भरतस्य राज्यग्रहण-निर्देशः (Rama’s Counsel on Vows, the Gaya Śruti, and Bharata’s Return to Rule)
In Sarga 107 of Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa, Rāma—honoured among relatives—responds to Bharata’s renewed speech by affirming the propriety of Bharata’s stance as Daśaratha’s son through Kaikeyī. Rāma then reconstructs the legal-ethical chain of obligation: Daśaratha’s earlier promise at Kaikeyī’s marriage, the later boon granted to her after service in the deva–asura conflict, and Kaikeyī’s demand for Bharata’s kingdom and Rāma’s exile. Rāma frames his own forest-dwelling as vow-compliance and urges Bharata to complete the same moral arc by accepting coronation swiftly, thereby preserving Daśaratha’s truthfulness. He further instructs Bharata to ‘release the king from his debt’—the burden of an unfulfilled vow—and to honour father and mother. To strengthen the filial imperative, Rāma cites a traditional Gaya-related śruti explaining ‘putra’ as one who saves the father from the hell named Put and protects ancestors; hence many sons are desired so that at least one performs rites at Gayā. Concluding with practical governance and emotional reassurance, Rāma directs Bharata to return to Ayodhyā with Śatrughna and the twice-born, keep the subjects content, while Rāma himself enters Daṇḍaka with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa—casting their roles as complementary sovereignties: Bharata over men, Rāma over the forest, each sheltered by appropriate ‘shade’ (umbrella vs. trees), and bound together by truth.
जाबाल्युपदेशः — Jabali’s Pragmatic Counsel to Rama
In this sarga, Jābāli—presented as an eminent brāhmaṇa—addresses Rāma while Rāma is consoling Bharata. Jābāli’s discourse employs a starkly pragmatic, this-worldly register: he questions durable kin-relations (“born alone, die alone”), reframes attachment to parents and household as temporary lodging, and urges Rāma not to persist in a painful, thorny course by abandoning the paternal kingdom. He recommends immediate political action—return to prosperous Ayodhyā, accept consecration, and enjoy royal prerogatives—portraying the city as awaiting its rightful lord. The argument intensifies into ritual skepticism: he challenges ancestral offerings (aṣṭakā, śrāddha) as ineffective and depicts certain dharma-textual injunctions as social instruments that induce charity and compliance. He concludes with an explicit prioritization of the perceivable (pratyakṣa) over the imperceptible (parokṣa), and presses Rāma to accept the kingdom offered by Bharata, framing it as aligned with wise public judgment and exemplary for society.
सत्यधर्मप्रतिपादनम् (Rama’s Defense of Truth and Dharma in Reply to Jabali)
Sarga 109 records a sustained ethical rebuttal by Rāma to Jābāli’s counsel that had attempted to persuade him toward a pragmatic return. Rāma first acknowledges the respectful intent behind the advice yet classifies it as harmful when measured against dharma and maryādā. He argues that kingship is eternally grounded in satya and ahiṃsā, and that the world’s stability rests on truth; sages and gods affirm truth as the highest virtue. Rāma frames falsehood as socially repellent and spiritually corrosive, asserting that charity, sacrifice, tapas, and even the Vedas stand upon truth as their foundation. He then applies the principle to his personal situation: having sworn before his father to accept forest life, he refuses to “break the bridge of truth,” rejecting motives such as greed, delusion, or ignorance. He warns that unstable, untruth-inclined persons find their offerings rejected by gods and ancestors, and he embraces exile as a virtuous burden aligned with the practice of the good. The chapter includes a polemical section (noted as potentially interpolated) where Rāma condemns atheistic reasoning; Jābāli responds by clarifying that his earlier stance was situational persuasion and reaffirms an āstika posture, seeking to pacify Rāma and guide him toward beneficent counsel.
लोकसमुत्पत्ति-वर्णनम् तथा इक्ष्वाकुवंश-प्रशंसा (Cosmogony and Ikshvaku Genealogy as Counsel to Rama)
Sarga 110 is structured as corrective counsel to a wrathful Rāma. Vasiṣṭha reframes Jābāli’s earlier discourse as pragmatic persuasion intended to prompt Rama’s return, then pivots to an authoritative teaching: a brief cosmogony (primordial waters, emergence of Svayambhū Brahmā, the boar-lift of Earth) followed by a lineage chain from Manu and Ikṣvāku through celebrated kings of Ayodhyā. The genealogy functions as a legal-ethical proof: the Ikṣvāku norm consecrates the eldest son, and Rama, as Daśaratha’s senior heir, is urged to accept sovereignty and protect the people in continuity with ancestral rājadharma. The chapter blends cosmological origin, dynastic memory, and normative succession doctrine to argue that Rama’s acceptance of kingship preserves kuladharma (family tradition) and public welfare.
अयोध्याकाण्डे एकादशोत्तरशततमः सर्गः (Sarga 111: Counsel on Gurus, Parental Debt, and Bharata’s Protest)
This sarga stages a structured ethical debate around authority and repayment of obligations. Vasiṣṭha, as rājapurohita and guru, reminds Rāma of the triad of “gurus” for a person—ācārya, father, and mother—and argues that obedience to elders and to the assembly preserves the path of the virtuous. Rāma replies by articulating the irreparable debt owed to parents for nurture and affection, and affirms that his promise to Daśaratha cannot become false. The focus then shifts to Bharata: distressed, he orders kuśa grass spread and attempts pratyupaveśana (lying down in protest) before Rāma’s hut, seeking Rāma’s return. Rāma rejects the propriety of such protest for an anointed ruler, urges Bharata to rise and return to Ayodhyā, and engages the gathered townspeople and villagers, who admit they cannot turn Rāma from his father’s command. Bharata formally addresses the assembly, denies complicity in the kingship demand, and offers to undertake the fourteen-year forest residence himself. Rāma, astonished at Bharata’s sincerity, reiterates the binding nature of Daśaratha’s prior commitments and frames substitution in exile as ethically reprehensible, reaffirming the decision as aligned with dharma and truth.
पादुकाप्रदानम् (The Gift of the Sandals and Delegated Kingship)
Sarga 112 presents the post-reconciliation settlement at Citrakūṭa: sages invisibly witness and praise the dharmic meeting of the brothers, framing it as auspicious and future-oriented (including the desired end of Daśagrīva/Rāvaṇa). Bharata, trembling yet resolute, petitions Rāma to accept the throne on grounds of rājadharma and kuladharma, confessing his inability to govern alone and noting that relatives, warriors, and subjects look only to Rāma. Rāma answers with affectionate instruction: Bharata possesses innate and trained wisdom, should govern by consultation with ministers and prudent counselors, and must not harbor anger toward Kaikeyī; yet Rāma declares his father’s promise inviolable, using cosmic impossibilities to emphasize steadfastness. Bharata then offers gold-adorned pādukā; Rāma steps into them and returns them as a symbolic locus of authority. Bharata vows austere life outside the city for fourteen years with the kingdom’s administration placed upon the sandals, threatening self-immolation if Rāma does not return on time. Rāma consents, embraces Bharata and Śatrughna, commands protection and non-resentment toward Kaikeyī, and departs after honoring elders; the mothers, choked with grief, cannot bid farewell, and Rāma enters his hut in tears.
पादुकाप्रदानं भरतस्य निवृत्तिश्च (The Sandals Bestowed; Bharata’s Return Toward Ayodhya)
This sarga completes the transitional arc from negotiation to symbolic governance. Bharata, accompanied by Śatrughna and the ministerial retinue, departs with Rāma’s pādukā as a ceremonial proxy for rightful sovereignty. The chapter frames the sandals as a juridico-ritual emblem: Vasiṣṭha urges Rāma to bestow the gold-adorned pādukā for Ayodhyā’s “yogakṣema” (security and welfare), and Rāma, facing east in a formal posture, grants them explicitly “for the sake of ruling.” Bharata articulates fidelity to Daśaratha’s fourteen-year vow, reaffirming exile terms as binding constitutional speech. Bharadvāja praises Bharata’s innate nobility, interpreting virtue as naturally settling in him, and asserts Daśaratha’s continued life through such a dharmic son. The narrative then shifts to itinerary and affect: the army turns back with vehicles, horses, and elephants; crossings of Yamunā and Gaṅgā are noted; Śṛṅgiberapura is entered; Ayodhyā is finally seen as bereft—silent, cheerless, and diminished—prompting Bharata’s grief-stricken address to the charioteer.
अयोध्याप्रवेशः — Bharata Enters Ayodhya and Perceives the City’s Desolation
Sarga 114 depicts Bharata’s swift entry into Ayodhyā in a chariot whose deep, soothing resonance contrasts with the city’s silence (2.114.1). The chapter constructs a sustained civic elegy through a sequence of tightly crafted similes: Ayodhyā appears like a lightless night roamed by cats and owls (2.114.2), like Rohiṇī bereft of the Moon’s companionship (2.114.3), and like a dried mountain stream, extinguished sacrificial flame, or a defeated army—each image translating political absence into sensory depletion (2.114.4–6). Further comparisons evoke ritual cessation and social paralysis: an ocean-wave fallen silent, a deserted altar after soma-pressing, and a forlorn herd without its bull (2.114.7–9). The city is also likened to a new pearl necklace with gems detached, a fallen star, a creeper scorched by wildfire, a cloud-covered sky, and a defiled drinking-place—emphasizing broken ornamentation, dimmed radiance, and disrupted festivity (2.114.10–15). Bharata then voices diagnostic questions to his charioteer: why songs, instruments, and the fragrance of garlands, liquor, sandalwood, and agaru no longer pervade the air; why traffic sounds and festive movement have ceased after Rama’s exile (2.114.21–27). He concludes that Ayodhyā’s splendour departed with Rama, longing for Rama’s return to restore collective joy (2.114.28–30). Mourning, Bharata enters Daśaratha’s palace—now lionless—then, seeing the secluded inner apartments shorn of splendour like a day without the Sun, he weeps (2.114.31–32).
पादुकाभिषेकः — The Consecration of Rama’s Sandals and Bharata’s Trusteeship at Nandigrama
Sarga 115 formalizes Bharata’s political-ethical solution to the succession crisis through a ritualized model of delegated sovereignty. Having placed his mothers safely in Ayodhyā, Bharata—grief-stricken yet firm in vow—addresses the elders and seeks leave to depart for Nandigrāma, declaring that without Rāma he will dwell with sorrow rather than enjoy rule. The ministers and Vasiṣṭha commend his brother-devotion and alignment with the noble path, after which Bharata orders the chariot readied and departs with Śatrughna, preceded by brahmin preceptors. The army and citizens follow unbidden, indicating public assent to his course. Reaching Nandigrāma, Bharata bears Rāma’s gold-adorned sandals upon his head, proclaims the kingdom a trust (sannyāsavat) deposited in him by Rāma, and installs the sandals as the juridical-symbolic seat of dharma. He instructs that royal emblems (parasol and fan) be held over them, and he resolves to safeguard the realm until Rāma’s return, at which time he will return Ayodhyā and the kingdom and resume service. The chapter closes with Bharata living ascetically—bark garments and matted locks—ruling only as subordinate to the sandals, reporting all matters and offerings to them first, thereby converting governance into accountable stewardship.
तपस्विनाम् औत्सुक्यं राक्षसत्रासश्च (Ascetics’ Anxiety and the Fear of Rakshasas)
In Citrakūṭa’s tapas-grove, after Bharata’s departure, Rāma notices a marked shift among the resident ascetics: apprehension, furtive glances, and whispered consultations. Concerned that some fault in himself, Lakṣmaṇa, or Sītā may have disturbed the hermitage’s harmony, he respectfully questions the kulapati (chief ascetic). The aged ṛṣi rejects any suspicion against Sītā’s conduct and instead attributes the agitation to rākṣasa hostility intensified by Rāma’s presence. The ascetics describe a pattern of harassment: demons assume grotesque forms, assault and kill tapasvins, disrupt yajña preparations by scattering ladles and vessels, dousing sacred fire with water, and breaking ritual pots. They identify Khara—Rāvaṇa’s brother—dwelling near Janasthāna, notorious for uprooting ascetics and unlikely to tolerate Rāma. Concluding that continued residence endangers both the sages and the royal couple, the group resolves to abandon the ashram for an older refuge in a nearby fruit-rich forest and invites Rāma to accompany them. Rāma cannot restrain their departure by words alone; he escorts them for a distance, pays obeisance, receives their instruction with consent, and returns to his holy hermitage, steadfast even when it is left without them.
अत्र्याश्रमगमनम् तथा अनसूयोपदेशः (Arrival at Atri’s Hermitage and Anasuya’s Counsel)
After the visiting ascetics depart, Rāma reflects and rejects continued residence at the prior spot, disturbed by memories of Bharata, the queens, and Ayodhyā’s citizens, and by the physical defilement caused by Bharata’s army camp (horses and elephants). Resolving to move, Rāma sets out with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa and reaches the hermitage of Bhagavān Atri. Rāma offers reverence; Atri receives him affectionately like a son and provides exemplary hospitality, consoling both Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā. Atri summons his aged wife, the ascetic Anasūyā—renowned for severe tapas and extraordinary benefactions to the world (restoring sustenance, causing the Gaṅgā to flow, averting impediments, and performing time-altering austerity for divine purposes). He directs Sītā to approach her. Sītā respectfully circumambulates and salutes Anasūyā, noting her extreme old age and trembling body, and inquires about her wellbeing. Anasūyā, pleased by Sītā’s righteous conduct, praises her choice to follow Rāma into forest hardship and delivers a didactic instruction on pativratā-dharma: for women of noble disposition, the husband is the supreme refuge and ‘deity’ regardless of circumstances; fidelity yields renown and virtue, while uncontrolled desire leads to moral decline and infamy. The sarga thus blends itinerary, hospitality protocol, hagiographic praise of ascetic power, and a normative ethical discourse addressed to Sītā.
अनसूयोपदेशः तथा सीताया स्वयंवरकथा (Anasuya’s Counsel and Sita’s Swayamvara Narrative)
Sarga 118 is structured as a didactic exchange framed by hospitality and reverence in the forest āśrama. After Anasūyā addresses Vaidehī (Sītā), Sītā replies with humility, affirming the classical household ethic that the husband is a wife’s guru and that patiśuśrūṣā (devoted service to one’s husband) is presented as a principal tapas for women. Exempla are invoked—Sāvitrī’s heavenly honor through fidelity, and Rohiṇī’s inseparability from the Moon—forming a moral taxonomy of steadfast marital vows. Pleased, Anasūyā offers divine adornments (garland, raiment, jewelry, fragrant unguents, precious ointment) with a stated enduring quality (non-fading, always suitable), and links Sītā’s beautification to Śrī (Lakṣmī) enhancing Viṣṇu, thereby sacralizing conjugal harmony. The second movement shifts to narrative historiography: Anasūyā requests Sītā’s origin and marriage account. Sītā recounts her ayoni-jā emergence from the earth during Janaka’s sacrificial ploughing, her adoption and nurturing by the chief queen, Janaka’s anxiety over finding a fitting husband, and the institution of the svayaṃvara centered on Varuṇa’s heavy divine bow. Kings fail to lift it; later Rāma arrives with Viśvāmitra and Lakṣmaṇa, strings and breaks the bow instantly, prompting Janaka’s truth-bound decision to offer Sītā—yet Rāma pauses until Daśaratha’s consent. The sarga closes with the lawful completion of the marriage arrangement and Sītā’s stated dhārmic devotion to Rāma.
अनसूयाप्रीतिदानम् — Anasūyā’s Blessing and the Forest Path
This sarga closes the Anasūyā episode and transitions the party deeper into the forest. After hearing Sītā’s detailed, sweetly articulated account—especially her svayaṃvara—Anasūyā responds with maternal affection, kissing Sītā’s forehead and embracing her. She grants permission to depart, then requests that Sītā be adorned in her presence, conferring divine ornaments and garments as prīti-dāna (gifts of love). Sītā, now radiant like a divine maiden, bows reverently and goes to Rāma; Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa rejoice at the rare honor shown to her. The narrative then shifts into a lyrical dusk-to-night tableau: sunset, birds returning to nests, sages returning from ablutions with water-pitchers, agnihotra smoke, thickening forest perception, nocturnal beings stirring, and moonrise amid stars. After a holy night of hospitality among accomplished ascetics, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa take leave at dawn. The forest-dwelling ascetics warn them of man-eating, shape-shifting rākṣasas and blood-drinking predators who endanger ascetics, and they indicate a safe path used by sages gathering fruits. Blessed by the brahmin-ascetics, Rāma enters the forest with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, likened to the sun entering a mass of clouds.