Clad in pure linen, he offered praise and bowed his head in reverence to Madhusūdana. Then, gathering the Brāhmaṇas, he had them recite the sacred Vedas. Their auspicious, deep, and melodious chanting, accompanied by the music of instruments, soon filled every corner of Ayodhyā with its sweet resonance. News quickly spread throughout the city that Rāghava, together with Vaidehī, had completed their vow of fasting. The people of Ayodhyā rejoiced at this, their hearts uplifted. As the night gave way to dawn and word of Rāma’s impending consecration reached every home, the townsfolk eagerly set about adorning their beloved city. At the gleaming temples, radiant as peaks of white clouds, at every crossroad, along the streets, upon shrines and balconies, the people began their joyful preparations. Merchant shops, brimming with all manner of goods, and the prosperous, splendid homes of householders were likewise decorated. In assembly halls and even on unmarked trees, flags were raised high, and banners fluttered in the morning breeze. The city resounded with the pleasing words and songs of actors, dancers, and singers, whose performances delighted both the mind and the ear. Everywhere—in the public squares and private homes—people spoke of nothing but Rāma’s consecration, for the hour of his anointing was near. Even the children, gathered in playful groups at their doorways, could talk of nothing else among themselves. The royal road was prepared with great care by the citizens, adorned with offerings of fresh flowers and perfumed with incense, ready for Rāma’s procession. To dispel the darkness of night, lamp-bearing trees were set up along all the side streets, casting a gentle glow over the city. Having thus decorated Ayodhyā, its people, filled with longing for Rāma’s installation as crown prince, waited in joyful anticipation. They gathered in groups in the squares and assembly halls, speaking among themselves in praise of the beloved lord of the people. “Ah,” they said, “the great-souled king, the joy of the Ikṣvāku dynasty, knowing his own age, will anoint Rāma as king. Truly, we are blessed, for Rāma, wise in the ways of the world, will be our king and protector for a long time to come. Rāghava, free from arrogance, learned and righteous, loving to his brothers, is as affectionate to us as he is to them. Long may the righteous and faultless King Daśaratha live, for by his favor we shall see Rāma anointed.” While the citizens thus rejoiced and spoke among themselves, others who had heard the news from the countryside began to arrive from all directions, eager to witness Rāma’s anointing. The city swelled with these crowds, their numbers spreading everywhere, and a great sound arose—like the mighty roar of the ocean at the time of the full moon. Thus, Ayodhyā, thronged on all sides by eager country folk, shone with a radiance like Indra’s own city, resounding tumultuously and gleaming like the ocean filled with its waters. Now let us hear the next part of the story. Among those in the palace was a maidservant, Mantharā, who had long lived with Queen Kaikeyī and was born among her kin. By chance, Mantharā ascended to the palace rooftop, shining like the moon. From that lofty vantage, she looked down upon Ayodhyā, whose royal roads were freshly sprinkled and strewn with lotuses and water-lilies. She beheld the city adorned with splendid banners and flags, the streets sprinkled with sandalwood water, and everywhere people whose heads had been ritually bathed. The air was filled with the voices of distinguished Brāhmaṇas carrying garlands and sweets, with the white doorways of temples gleaming, and the sound of all manner of musical instruments resounding. Joyful crowds mingled with chanting Brahmins, delighted elephants and horses, and the bellowing of excited bulls and cows filled the air. Seeing Ayodhyā thus adorned, with flags raised high and its citizens elated, Mantharā was struck with astonishment. Absorbed in her own thoughts and sensing some opportunity, Mantharā wondered aloud, “The mother of Rāma, so full of joy and intent on gain—what wealth is she distributing to the people?” She questioned further, “Why is there such extraordinary happiness among the people? What is the delighted king about to do?” Overwhelmed with joy, the nurse—who had learned the news—happily informed the hunchback Mantharā of the great fortune soon to befall Rāghava: “Tomorrow, under the Pushya star, King Daśaratha will anoint Rāma, who has conquered anger and is faultless, as crown prince.” Upon hearing this, anger flared within Mantharā. Descending swiftly from the palace, which shone like the peak of Mount Kailāsa, she burned with indignation. Seeking out Kaikeyī, she spoke harshly to her as she lay resting: “Get up, fool! Why do you lie there? Danger is coming upon you. Overwhelmed by a flood of misfortune, you do not even perceive your own plight. Though you appear fortunate, you boast of your good fortune when it is actually undesirable; your fortune is unsteady, like the current of a river in the hot season.” Stung by these angry and bitter words, Kaikeyī fell into deep distress. She addressed Mantharā gently, “Is all well, Mantharā? For I see you with a troubled face, greatly afflicted.” Hearing Kaikeyī’s gentle inquiry, Mantharā—skilled in speech but filled with anger—prepared to reply.