In a time long past, two royal sons emerged, their hearts and minds steeped in the noble and righteous narrative of their lineage. With unwavering focus and a deep understanding of its essence, they rendered this grand poem with a blameless recitation, captivating all who gathered around them. In the midst of an assembly of sages, virtuous souls, and learned twice-borns, these two sons stood with grace, their presence adorned with auspicious marks that spoke of their greatness. As they began to sing, their voices harmonized beautifully, weaving together the story with such passion and melody that the air was filled with an ethereal sweetness. The sages, with their purified minds, listened intently, and as the song unfolded, tears of joy brimmed in their eyes. Overcome with wonder, they exclaimed, “Excellent! Excellent!” Their hearts swelled with delight, for the beauty of the song and the verses resonated deeply within them. Though the events they sang of were from ages past, they seemed to come alive before the listeners, as if the very essence of the tale was embodied by the two singers. Their performance was not just a recitation; it was a heartfelt offering that moved all present. The great sages, renowned for their austerity, praised the Kuśīlava singers, recognizing the profound sweetness of their song. As the melody soared, the assembly was filled with joy, and the sages, in their delight, began to bestow gifts upon the talented duo. One sage offered a water pot, another presented bark garments, while yet another bestowed a black antelope skin. The generosity flowed as they received a sacred thread, a girdle of muñja grass, a staff, and even a loincloth. Each gift was a token of appreciation for the wondrous tale they had shared, and the atmosphere was charged with blessings and words of long life from the truth-speaking sages. The song, rich in meaning and expression, became a cherished foundation of poetry, a melody that promised strength and delight to all who heard it. The two singers, praised wherever they went, found themselves honored even on the streets and royal roads. It was then that Rāma, the noble elder brother of Bharata, spotted them and brought them to his own house, where he honored them with great reverence. Seated upon a divine golden throne, Rāma, the destroyer of enemies, acknowledged their worthiness, surrounded by his brothers and counselors. “Let this story of these radiant brothers be heard,” Rāma proclaimed, encouraging them to share their tale, which was rich in varied meanings. With hearts full of passion, they sang sweetly, their voices resonating with the harmony of strings and rhythm. The assembly was enraptured, each note and word delighting every limb, mind, and heart, as the melody shone brightly in the gathering. These two ascetics, marked by royal birth and skilled in song, were indeed wondrous, even in the eyes of Rāma himself. Prompted by the lord's words, the two began to sing, following the proper method, and Rāma, seated among the assembly, became absorbed in the desire to listen. As the tale unfolded, the narrative took a grand turn, revealing the history of the earth, once ruled by victorious kings, starting with Prajāpati. Among them was Sagara, known for digging the ocean, surrounded by his sixty thousand sons. It was from this illustrious line of the Ikṣvāku dynasty that the great tale known as the Rāmāyaṇa arose, a story to be recounted with righteousness, desire, and wealth, free from envy. In this tale, a city named Ayodhyā came to life, famed throughout the world, built by Manu, the lord of men. This splendid city stretched twelve yojanas in length and three in breadth, adorned with well-laid roads that were always fresh with flowers and sprinkled with water. King Daśaratha, the increaser of his great realm, dwelled in this magnificent city, much like the lord of the gods in heaven. Ayodhyā was furnished with grand gates and archways, bustling marketplaces filled with artisans, charioteers, and bards. It was a city of unmatched splendor, with tall mansions and banners, alive with the sounds of war engines and surrounded by troupes of dancers and actresses. Gardens and mango groves adorned its landscape, encircled by a great belt of śāla trees, while deep moats fortified its defenses, making it difficult for others to approach. The city thrived, filled with horses, elephants, cattle, camels, and donkeys, and was encircled by vassal kings paying tribute. Merchants from distant lands brought their wares, and palaces adorned with jewels rose like mountains, filled with lofty mansions that mirrored the grandeur of Amarāvatī, the city of Indra. Thus, the narrative of the Rāmāyaṇa began to unfold, rich with the legacy of kings and the splendor of Ayodhyā, setting the stage for the epic tale of righteousness, devotion, and the eternal battle of good against evil.