There once stood a city of unparalleled fame in the world, known as Ayodhyā. This illustrious city had been built by Manu himself, the ancient lord of men. Ayodhyā stretched majestically for twelve yojanas in length and three in breadth, its main roads laid out with perfect order and clarity. At its heart ran a splendid royal road, always adorned with fresh flowers and kept cool and clean by the sprinkling of water. Here, King Daśaratha, the illustrious scion of the Ikṣvāku line, resided—ruling his vast and prosperous kingdom with a grandeur akin to the lord of the gods presiding over heaven. Ayodhyā was fortified and well-planned, its gates and archways strong and elegant. The city bustled with marketplaces, filled with all manner of ingenious machines and mighty weapons, and was inhabited by skilled artisans of every craft. Charioteers and bards thronged its streets, lending unmatched splendor to the city. Tall mansions rose above the thoroughfares, each adorned with fluttering banners, while hundreds of engines of war stood ready, testifying to the city’s might. Around Ayodhyā, troupes of actresses and dancers performed, and the city was further beautified by lush gardens and mango groves, all encircled by a grand belt of śāla trees. Deep, fortified moats protected its boundaries, making it difficult for enemies to approach. Within, the city teemed with horses, elephants, cattle, camels, and donkeys—a testament to its wealth and prosperity. Vassal kings from distant lands assembled around Ayodhyā, bringing tribute and homage, while merchants from many realms filled its markets, adding to its cosmopolitan charm. The city gleamed with palaces encrusted with jewels, towering like mountains, and was filled with lofty mansions reminiscent of Amarāvatī, the celestial city of Indra. Ayodhyā’s layout resembled a chessboard, its neighborhoods teeming with noble women and sparkling with every kind of precious jewel. Celestial mansions crowned the city, and its foundations were deep-rooted and unbroken, established on level ground. The land yielded abundant rice and barley, and its waters were sweetened by sugarcane. From every corner, the sounds of drums, mridangas, veenas, and panavas resounded, filling the city with music and festivity. The dwellings were well-arranged and filled with noble men, resembling the celestial palaces attained by the Siddhas through their austerities. Ayodhyā was home to warriors of remarkable skill—archers who never missed their mark, whether at distant or close targets, adept at striking by sound, their hands light and sure. They were slayers of roaring lions, tigers, and wild boars in the forest, wielding sharp weapons and relying on the strength of their arms. Thousands of such great chariot-warriors filled the city, their presence a source of security and pride. The city was also surrounded by virtuous and eminent twice-borns—brāhmaṇas who mastered the six branches of the Vedas, and by thousands of great souls devoted to truth. Sages, pure ascetics, and rishis of great renown dwelled there, lending spiritual strength to the city. In this foremost city, the story unfolds further. Among its citizens was one learned in the Vedas, possessing all knowledge and great brilliance. Farsighted and beloved by all, he was a mighty charioteer among the Ikṣvākus, devoted to sacrifice and righteousness, self-controlled, and a royal sage renowned throughout the three worlds. Strong and friendly, a master of his senses, he was equal to Indra and Kubera in wealth and treasures. Just as Manu had once protected the world with his brilliance, so did King Daśaratha safeguard his people. Through his truthfulness and steadfast observance of the three aims of life, Daśaratha governed Ayodhyā as Indra rules Amarāvatī. In this supreme city, no one was poor; every householder was accomplished, possessing cows, horses, riches, and grain. No one was desirous or miserly, nor cruel or ignorant, nor lacking in faith. All men and women conducted themselves righteously, were well-disciplined, joyful in character, and pure like great sages. Everyone adorned themselves with earrings, crowns, garlands, and fragrant scents; none were unwashed or unadorned. All ate pure food, none failed in generosity, and all wore armlets, necklaces, and ornaments, maintaining self-control in all things. None neglected sacred fires or sacrifices, nor was there a miser, thief, wrongdoer, or anyone of mixed caste. The brāhmaṇas were ever devoted to their duties, masters of their senses, practicing charity and study, and restrained in accepting gifts. No atheist or liar was found, nor anyone lacking in learning, envious, incapable, or unwise. All were well-versed in the six branches of learning, steadfast in their vows, generous, and free from poverty or distress. In Ayodhyā, no man or woman lacked fortune or beauty, and all were devoted to the king. Among the higher three castes, people worshipped the gods and honored guests, were grateful, generous, heroic, and endowed with valor. The citizens lived long lives, devoted to righteousness and truth, always surrounded by their sons, grandsons, and wives. The kṣatriyas protected the brāhmaṇas, the vaiśyas supported the kṣatriyas, and the śūdras performed their own duties, serving the three higher castes with diligence. Ayodhyā was well protected by King Daśaratha, just as it had been by Manu in ancient times. The city was filled with warriors, blazing like fire—skilled, gracious, unyielding, and accomplished in their arts, like a cave full of lions. It boasted the best horses from the lands of the Kāmbojas and Bāhlīkas, as well as excellent forest and river horses, adding to its glory and strength. Such was Ayodhyā, the supreme city, radiant and prosperous, a model of harmony, virtue, and splendor under the wise and noble rule of King Daśaratha.