As the auspicious wedding ceremonies continued in Mithilā, King Janaka, the noble ruler of Videha, addressed Rāma, the delight of the Raghu dynasty: “O Rāma, take Mandavi’s hand with your own.” With equal warmth, he spoke to Shatrughna: “O mighty-armed one, take Shrutakirti’s hand with your own.” Janaka praised their gentle natures and steadfastness in noble vows, urging, “May the Kakutsthas be united with their wives; let not this proper hour slip away.” Obedient to Janaka’s words, the princes and their brides joined hands, standing together as Vasishtha, the revered sage, directed them. The four sons of Raghu and their four brides circumambulated the sacred fire, the altar, and the king, performing every ritual as prescribed. The marriage was celebrated with grandeur, attended by sages and filled with sacred rites. Suddenly, from the heavens, a brilliant shower of flowers rained down, accompanied by the sounds of divine drums, songs, and musical instruments. Companies of Apsaras danced gracefully, while Gandharvas sang sweet melodies. Such wonders adorned the wedding of the foremost Raghus. As the music resounded and the ceremonies unfolded, the mighty princes, having circled the fire three times, led their wives away. The descendants of Raghu, together with their brides, retired to their resting place, followed by King Janaka, the assembly of sages, and relatives, all watching with joy. With the wedding complete, the seventy-fourth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa, begins. When the night had passed, the great sage Vishvamitra took leave of both kings and departed for the northern mountains. After Vishvamitra’s departure, King Dasharatha, having taken leave of King Janaka, began his swift return to Ayodhyā. Before Dasharatha’s departure, Janaka bestowed abundant bridal gifts: hundreds of thousands of cows, fine woolen blankets, silks, and millions of garments. Elephants, horses, chariots, and foot soldiers, all adorned and of divine appearance, were given. Janaka also presented a hundred maidens, each with excellent male and female servants, along with gold, refined gold, pearls, and coral. Greatly delighted, Janaka gave incomparable gifts, then took leave of Dasharatha. Janaka returned to his city of Mithilā, while Dasharatha, ruler of Ayodhyā, set out with his noble sons. Placing the sages at the forefront, Dasharatha proceeded with his army, accompanied by the assembly of sages and Rāma. As they traveled, terrifying birds uttered cries all around, and the animals of the earth began to move in circles. Witnessing these ominous signs, Dasharatha, the tiger among kings, questioned Vasishtha: “These birds are grim, and the animals are circling. What is this that makes my heart tremble and my mind sink?” Vasishtha, the great sage, replied with sweet words: “Let us consider the meaning. A dreadful, divine danger has arisen, heralded by the birds’ cries. Yet these animals are calming; let your distress be abandoned.” As they spoke, a fierce wind arose, shaking the earth and causing great trees to fall. The sun was obscured by darkness, and none could discern the directions. Ash covered everything, bewildering the entire army. Only Vasishtha, the other sages, the king, and his sons remained conscious amid the terrible darkness. In this moment, Dasharatha saw a mighty figure with matted hair, Bhārgava—son of Jamadagni, destroyer of kings. He stood unassailable like Kailāsa, unbearable like the fire of time, blazing with radiance, impossible for ordinary people to behold. With an axe slung over his shoulder, a bow like a cluster of lightning, and grasping a fierce arrow, he resembled Śiva who destroyed Tripura. Seeing Bhārgava’s fiery presence, the sages led by Vasishtha, devoted to recitation and sacrifice, gathered and spoke among themselves: “Will he, angered by his father’s killing, again destroy the warrior class?” But they reassured one another: “Having previously slain the warriors, his anger and fever are gone; he does not intend to destroy them again.” Taking offerings, the sages addressed Bhārgava with sweet words, honoring him: “Rāma, Rāma!” Receiving their reverence, Bhārgava, son of Jamadagni, spoke to Rāma, son of Dasharatha. The seventy-fifth sarga begins. Bhārgava addressed Rāma: “O Rāma, son of Dasharatha, valiant one, your extraordinary prowess is renowned. I have heard in detail of your breaking the bow. That wondrous and inconceivable feat—having heard of it, I have come here, bringing another auspicious bow. Here is the formidable and mighty bow of Jāmadagnya. String it with an arrow and show your strength. When I have seen your power in stringing even this bow, I shall grant you a duel, for I wish to test your celebrated valor.” Hearing Bhārgava’s words, King Dasharatha’s face fell, dejected and anxious. With joined palms, he spoke humbly, his heart heavy with concern.