King Dasharatha sat in his chamber, troubled and weary, as Kaikeyi approached him with a determined heart. She reminded him of a time long past, a fierce battle between the gods and demons, when his very life had been threatened. “Remember, O king,” she said, “how I protected you then, watching over you and striving for your safety. In gratitude, you granted me two boons.” Kaikeyi’s voice grew resolute. “Those two boons, O lord, which you promised me, I now seek to claim. If you, protector of the earth and descendant of Raghu, do not grant me what you vowed in righteousness, I will, dishonored by you, give up my life this very day.” Her words bound the king, and he was caught like a deer in a snare, helpless before Kaikeyi’s will. She pressed further, reminding him, “O lord, you had granted me two boons, and at that time you promised to fulfill them.” “Now, listen as I declare those boons to you. The preparations for Rāghava’s consecration have been made. Let Bharata, instead, be anointed as king for me; this is the second boon you joyfully granted. At that time, during the battle of gods and demons, you made your promise. Now the moment has come: let Rāma dwell in the Daṇḍaka forest for fourteen years. Let him, steadfast and clad in bark and deerskin, become an ascetic, while Bharata rules the kingdom without obstacle.” Kaikeyi’s desire was clear and unwavering. “This is my highest wish; I choose the boon you granted. Let me see Rāghava depart for the forest today. Be a king of kings, true to your promise—protect your lineage, your character, and your birth. For in the next world, the sages say, truthfulness is the highest good for men.” As the twelfth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa, began, King Dasharatha was struck deeply by Kaikeyi’s cruel words. He fell into troubled thought, tormented and bewildered. Was this a dream, a delusion, some affliction, or a disturbance of his mind? He found no comfort, and regaining consciousness, he was shaken by Kaikeyi’s demands. Distressed and lost, like a deer before a tigress, he sat on the bare ground, breathing heavily. Like a serpent trapped and restrained by spells, though full of deadly venom, the king, angered, uttered words of reproach. His mind overwhelmed by grief, Dasharatha again fell into confusion, but after some time, deeply afflicted, he regained his senses. Enraged and burning with his own energy, he spoke to Kaikeyi: “Cruel one, of wicked conduct, destroyer of this family! What wrong has Rāma done to you, or what sin have I committed, O wicked one? Rāghava has always treated you as his own mother.” “Why, then, are you intent on this harm? You were placed in this house by me, yet you seek my destruction. Unaware, O princess, you are like a serpent with sharp poison. When the whole world praises Rāma’s virtues, for what offense should I abandon my beloved son? I could forsake Kausalya and Sumitra, or give up my own wealth, but not Rāma.” “If I do not see Rāma, my consciousness will be lost. Can the world remain without the sun, or crops without water? Without Rāma, my life cannot remain in this body; therefore, let this sinful resolve be abandoned at once. I am ready to touch your feet with my head—be gracious to me. Why have you conceived such a dreadful thought, O sinful one?” “If you wish to test my affection or aversion for Bharata, let it be as you previously declared regarding Raghava. He is my eldest son, illustrious and foremost in righteousness; what you said was only for the sake of service. Hearing that, tormented by grief, you cause me great pain; you have become possessed in this empty house, now fallen under another’s control.” “O queen, a great calamity has come upon the house of the Ikshvakus, where your mind, once guided by virtue, has turned astray. Never before, O large-eyed one, did you do anything improper or displeasing to me; therefore, I cannot believe this of you. Surely, Raghava is equal to Bharata, the great-souled one, in your eyes; for as a child, you often told me so.” “How, O timid one, do you desire the exile to the forest for that righteous and renowned one for fourteen years? How do you wish for the dwelling in the harsh forest for him, who is extremely delicate and whose mind is set on righteousness? O auspicious-eyed one, why do you desire the banishment of Rāma, who is charming and devoted to serving you?” “Indeed, Rāma always serves you more than Bharata does; I do not see any special regard from Bharata towards you in this. Who else, apart from that best of men, would show greater service, respect, and obedience in word and deed? Among the many thousands of women and dependents, no reproach or slander is ever found against Raghava. Rāma, the tiger among men, with a pure heart, wins over all beings with gentle words and wins the affection of the people.” Thus, Dasharatha’s heart poured out in anguish, unable to comprehend Kaikeyi’s resolve, his soul torn between duty and love for his beloved son, Rāma.