Once, in ancient times, this entire earth belonged to a line of kings who were unconquered in battle, their lineage tracing all the way back to Prajāpati himself. Among these illustrious rulers was Sagara, famed for having dug the very ocean, and whose sixty thousand sons surrounded him wherever he went. From these mighty and noble kings of the Ikṣvāku dynasty, a great and wondrous tale arose—the story known as the Rāmāyaṇa. Let us now recount this sacred narrative from its very beginning, a story woven with righteousness, desire, and prosperity, to be heard with an open, unjealous heart. There was a city called Ayodhyā, renowned throughout the world, built by Manu, the lord of men himself. This magnificent city stretched for twelve yojanas in length and three in breadth, with its main roads laid out in perfect order. Its great royal avenues were always adorned with fresh flowers and sprinkled with cool water, lending them a perpetual freshness and beauty. Within this splendid city dwelled King Daśaratha, the increaser of his realm, who ruled as the lord of the gods reigns in heaven. Ayodhyā was furnished with imposing gates and archways, its marketplaces well-divided and bustling, filled with all kinds of ingenious machines and weapons, and inhabited by skilled artisans of every craft. The city teemed with charioteers and bards, its splendor unmatched, its tall mansions and fluttering banners rising high, and its streets thronged with countless engines of war. Encircling the city were troupes of actresses and dancers, while gardens and mango groves flourished within, all surrounded by a great belt of śāla trees. Deep, fortified moats protected the city, making it difficult for enemies to approach, and within its boundaries were countless horses, elephants, cattle, camels, and donkeys. Assemblies of vassal kings gathered to offer tribute, while merchants from distant lands added to Ayodhyā’s beauty and wealth. The city shone with palaces adorned with precious jewels, towering like mountains, and was filled with lofty mansions that rivaled Amarāvatī, the city of Indra. Its layout was splendid and orderly, resembling a chessboard, filled with noble women and every kind of jewel, and adorned with celestial mansions. Here stood a residence, firmly rooted and unbroken, built on level ground, its stores brimming with rice and barley, and its water sweetened by sugarcane. Ayodhyā resounded with the music of drums, mridangas, veenas, and panavas, echoing across the earth. Like the celestial palaces attained by the Siddhas through austerity, its dwellings were well-arranged and filled with noble men. Among its people were those who never missed their mark with arrows, whether at distant or close targets, skilled in striking by sound, with swift hands and great expertise. In the forests, they were slayers of roaring lions, tigers, and wild boars, wielding sharp weapons and mighty arms. King Daśaratha filled the city with thousands of such great chariot-warriors. The city was further surrounded by virtuous, eminent twice-borns, masters of the six branches of the Vedas, and by thousands of truth-devoted souls and sages who resembled the great rishis and pure ascetics. In the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Bāla Kāṇḍa, this is the sixth section to be heard. Within that city of Ayodhyā, there lived one learned in the Vedas, possessing all knowledge, farsighted and brilliant, beloved by both the citizens and those in the countryside. Among the Ikṣvākus, he was a mighty charioteer and sacrificer, devoted to righteousness and self-control—a royal sage like a great rishi, renowned throughout the three worlds. Strong and the destroyer of enemies, friendly and master of his senses, he equaled Indra and Kubera in wealth and treasures. Just as Manu, of great brilliance, protected the world in times past, so did King Daśaratha safeguard his realm. By his truthful resolve and observance of the threefold aims of life—righteousness, desire, and wealth—he governed that excellent city as Indra rules Amarāvatī. In that foremost city, no one was poor; every householder was accomplished, possessing cows, horses, riches, and grain. Nowhere could one find a miser, a cruel man, or anyone desirous or ignorant; nor was there anyone atheistic. All men and women were righteous in conduct, well-disciplined, joyful in their character and behavior, and pure as great sages. No one was without earrings, a crown, or a garland; all enjoyed the pleasures of life, were clean and adorned, and carried a pleasant fragrance. None ate unclean food, none withheld gifts, and all wore armlets, necklaces, and hand ornaments, their self-control evident. No one neglected sacred fires or failed to perform sacrifices; there was no miser, no thief, no one of bad conduct, nor anyone of mixed caste. The Brāhmaṇas were always devoted to their duties, self-controlled, practicing charity and study, and restrained in accepting gifts. Nowhere was there an atheist, a liar, or anyone lacking learning, nor anyone envious, incapable, or unwise. All were well-versed in the six branches of learning, kept their vows, were generous, and none were poor, disturbed, or afflicted. No man or woman in Ayodhyā was without fortune or beauty, nor was there anyone who lacked devotion to the king. Among the higher three castes, all worshipped gods and guests, were grateful, generous, heroic, and endowed with valor. The people lived long lives, devoted to righteousness and truth, always together with their sons, grandsons, and wives in that most excellent of cities. Thus stood Ayodhyā, the radiant jewel of the earth, under the just and noble rule of King Daśaratha, a city flourishing in virtue, prosperity, and joy.