The illustrious King Daśaratha, after having performed the marriages of his sons, eventually bestowed the kingdom upon Rāma. This decision, made with the agreement of the people and even the royal guru, was nevertheless shadowed by the influence of Mantharā, whose jealousy and ill fate led Queen Kaikeyī to intervene. Driven by these forces, Kaikeyī created an obstacle, sending Rāma into exile in the forest. The kingdom, however, was not handed over to her son Bharata by Daśaratha. Upholding his father’s promise with unwavering truthfulness, Rāma entered the great forest, accompanied by Sītā and his loyal brother Saumitri, also known as Lakṣmaṇa. By his own virtues, Rāma entered the pure hearts of the virtuous, and as he departed, consecrated for forest-dwelling, he, Sītā, and Saumitri renounced all desire for the throne. Meanwhile, overwhelmed by immense sorrow and recalling an ancient curse of Brahma, King Daśaratha, stricken with grief, relinquished his life. By the force of his past deeds, the king was led away by Yama’s attendants to the realm where all beings, moving and unmoving, must eventually go. In Yama’s abode, there are many dreadful and terrifying hells—Tāmisra and others—where the king was cast. There, he was subjected to many torments: cooked, cut, crushed, ground to powder, dried, torn apart, burned again, and submerged. In these terrible hells, King Daśaratha suffered greatly. Rāma, journeying onward, reached Citrakūṭa, where he dwelled for three years. Thereafter, he turned south and entered the renowned Daṇḍaka forest, famous throughout the three worlds as a land that bestows merit. This great and fearsome forest, haunted by demons and abandoned by sages out of fear, was purified when Rāma slew the demons and Rākṣasas. Thus, wandering in Daṇḍaka, Rāma made it a place once again frequented by sages. It was there that a significant event occurred. As Rāma continued his journey, he covered five yojanas and reached the Gautamī river, while his father, King Daśaratha, remained in hell. At that moment, Yama spoke to his attendants: “Rāma, son of Daśaratha, is approaching the Gautamī river, near to his wise father. Now, draw the king out from the hells—there is no doubt. After Rāma crosses the Gautamī, he will have covered five yojanas. As long as Rāma has not crossed, let his father not be tormented in hell. If you do not carry out this meritorious command of mine, you yourselves will be plunged into dreadful hells. The Gautamī, whom the virtuous revere as the embodiment of water, is honored and worshipped by Hari, Brahmā, and Maheśa. No one can cross over the sin born of transgression, but even a sinner, if he remembers Gaṅgā, or if his son does so, is freed from many terrible hells and attains liberation. What then of a son like Rāma, who stands near the Gautamī? No one can make Daśaratha suffer in hell, hearing the command of the lord of the southern direction.” Thus, Yama’s attendants rescued King Daśaratha, the lord of Ayodhya, from torment and spoke to him: “Blessed are you, O best of kings, to have such a son! In this world and the next, who obtains rest except through a worthy son?” As the king found repose, he addressed the attendants: “While I was tormented again and again in these terrible hells, how was I so swiftly drawn out? Please tell me this.” One with a tranquil mind replied, “This is a secret kept carefully in the Vedas, scriptures, and Purāṇas, yet it is revealed to you because of your son’s power and the sanctity of this pilgrimage. Your illustrious son Rāma has come to the bank of the Gautamī; for this reason, O best of men, you have been drawn out from dreadful hell. If Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa remember you there at the Gautamī, perform bathing, and offer you piṇḍa and other rites, then you will be freed from all sins and ascend to heaven. I shall convey your words to your sons; you alone are our refuge, so please grant permission.” Hearing the king’s words, the attendants of Yama, moved by compassion, granted him leave, and the king went towards his sons. Having assumed a terrifying body marked by torment, he sighed repeatedly, looked upon himself in shame, and remembered his past deeds. Meanwhile, Rāghava, wandering as he wished, reached the Gaṅgā, and together with Lakṣmaṇa, took refuge on the bank of the Gautamī. There, with Sītā, the daughter of Videha, he bathed according to the prescribed rite. Yet, on the bank of the Gautamī, there was no food—nothing at all to eat. As they stayed there among the dwellers on the riverbank, Lakṣmaṇa, distressed by what he saw, spoke to Rāma: “We are the sons of Daśaratha, and your strength is great; yet there is no food for us or for the dwellers on the bank of the Gaṅgā. Brother, whatever deed is ordained cannot be otherwise; though the earth is full of food, we are still desirous of it.” Thus, the story unfolded—Rāma’s unwavering virtue, the suffering and salvation of Daśaratha, and the mysterious workings of fate and dharma along the sacred Gautamī.