Under the rule of Shatrughna, the fields surrounding the city flourished, nourished by timely rains sent by Indra himself. The people, robust and heroic, lived in health and security under Shatrughna’s protective arm. The city, gracing the banks of the Yamuna and shaped like a crescent moon, shone with beauty—its splendid houses, bustling crossroads, lively markets, and well-laid streets teemed with people from all four orders. Commerce thrived, and the city sparkled with the diversity of its inhabitants. All that had once been accomplished there by the mighty Lavana, Shatrughna now surpassed, making the city even more splendid and vibrant, adorned with people of many colors and cultures. Gardens and pleasure-grounds bloomed in every direction, and the city was further embellished with remarkable wonders, both celestial and human-made. Like a city of the gods, it brimmed with all manner of merchandise, drawing merchants from distant lands. Beholding this prosperous and radiant city, Shatrughna—the illustrious younger brother of Bharata—felt his heart swell with joy and supreme delight. A thought arose within him: “Having established the city of Madhura, when twelve years are complete, I shall go and behold the feet of Rama.” With the city now rivaling the realms of the immortals and filled with every kind of people, Shatrughna, the enhancer of the Raghu line, resolved to fulfill his wish to see Rama. Thus ends the seventieth sarga of the glorious Uttarakanda in the ancient and revered Ramayana, composed by sage Valmiki. When the twelfth year arrived, Shatrughna, accompanied by a modest retinue and force, set his heart on journeying to Ayodhya, the realm of Rama. He sent back his chief ministers and leading warriors, choosing only the best horses and a hundred chariots for his journey. After traveling for seven or eight nights, the illustrious descendant of Raghu reached the hermitage of Valmiki and took up residence there. There, Shatrughna, foremost among men, bowed deeply to Valmiki, touching the sage’s feet and receiving the water of welcome and honored hospitality from his hand. The great sage shared with Shatrughna thousands of stories, each diverse and exceedingly sweet. He spoke of the slaying of Lavana, saying, “A most difficult deed was accomplished by you in killing Lavana. Many powerful and mighty kings, with their armies and vehicles, fell to Lavana in battle. Yet, O foremost among men, you slew that wicked one with ease, calming the terror that had gripped the world. The dreadful slaying of Ravana required great effort, but this exceedingly great deed you performed without exertion. Great joy arose among the gods when Lavana was slain; for all beings and the world, you have done what is most dear.” Valmiki continued, “That battle, O descendant of Raghu, I witnessed as it truly happened, seated in the assembly of Indra. Shatrughna, in my heart there is supreme affection for you; let me smell your head—this is the highest expression of love.” Having said this, the sage embraced Shatrughna, smelling his head, and extended generous hospitality to him and all those who followed. After their meal, Shatrughna listened to the supreme sweetness of song—the story of Rama—recited in proper order, accompanied by the harmony of strings and rhythm, performed with refined technique and perfect melody. As he heard the tale, true and as it had happened, Shatrughna was overwhelmed; his eyes filled with tears, and for a moment he was insensible, sighing again and again, as if the events were unfolding before him. Those who accompanied the king, hearing the excellence of the song, were also moved and distressed, marveling, “This is astonishing.” The soldiers whispered among themselves, “What is this? Where are we? Is this a vision seen in a dream? The meaning we once saw, we now hear again in this hermitage—could the binding power of song bring us prosperity?” Filled with wonder, they urged Shatrughna, “O best among men, ask Valmiki, the foremost of sages.” Shatrughna addressed them gently, “Soldiers, it is not proper for us to question in this manner. Many wonders occur here in the sage’s hermitage, but it is not fitting, out of curiosity, to investigate that great sage.” Thus, after these words, Shatrughna, the descendant of Raghu, saluted the great sage and returned to his camp. Thus ends the seventy-first sarga in the glorious Uttarakanda of the venerable Valmiki Ramayana, the first epic. That night, sleep eluded Shatrughna, the tiger among men, as he lay contemplating the many meanings of the supreme song of Rama. The exceedingly sweet sound, accompanied by the rhythm of strings, carried him through the night, which passed swiftly for the great-souled prince. When dawn broke, after performing his morning rites, Shatrughna, with joined palms, approached the foremost of sages and spoke: “Revered one, I wish to see Raghava, the delight of the Raghu line. I seek your permission to go, together with these devoted ascetics.” Valmiki, embracing him with affection, granted leave to depart for Raghava. Shatrughna saluted the eminent sage, mounted his splendid chariot, and set out for Ayodhya, his heart eager to behold Rama.