Kaikeyī, her heart set and her words unwavering, declared before King Daśaratha her deepest wish: “Let Rāma, steadfast and clad in bark and deerskin, become an ascetic and depart to the forest. Let Bharata, from this very day, rule the kingdom without hindrance. This is the highest desire of my heart, and today I choose the boon you once promised me. Let me witness Rāghava leaving for the forest with my own eyes. O king of kings, be true to your word—protect the honor of your lineage and your noble birth. The sages teach that in the world to come, truthfulness is the highest virtue for men.” Thus Kaikeyī pressed her demand. And now, as the twelfth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa, begins, the story unfolds further. When King Daśaratha heard these cruel words from Kaikeyī, he was plunged into deep and painful thought. For a moment, he sat lost in torment. He wondered, “Is this some dream of mine? Is my mind confused or deluded? Is this an affliction or a disturbance of my senses?” No comfort came to him as he struggled with these thoughts. Regaining consciousness, the king found himself tormented by Kaikeyī’s harsh demand. Distressed and bewildered, like a helpless deer before a tigress, the great king sat upon the bare ground, his breath heavy with sorrow. He felt as though he were a venomous serpent, trapped within a magic circle—dangerous, yet bound and helpless. Consumed by anger, Daśaratha uttered words of reproach, his mind overwhelmed by grief and confusion. After a long time, deeply afflicted, he managed to regain his senses. Burning with anguish, Daśaratha spoke to Kaikeyī: “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 with the respect due to his own mother. Why, then, do you seek to harm him? I brought you into this house, and now you seek my ruin. Unaware, O princess, you are like a serpent with sharp poison, while the whole world sings the praises of Rāma’s virtues. For what offense should I abandon my beloved son? I could forsake Kausalya and Sumitra, or even give up all my wealth, but never Rāma. If I do not see Rāma, I will lose my very consciousness. Can the world exist without the sun, or crops without water? Without Rāma, my life cannot remain in this body. Therefore, cast aside this sinful resolve at once. I am ready to bow my head to your feet—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 Rāghava. He is my eldest son, illustrious and foremost in righteousness. Your words, which seemed so kind, were spoken only for the sake of service. Yet now, hearing this, I am tormented by grief; you cause me great pain, as if possessed in this empty house, now fallen under another’s control. O queen, a great calamity has come upon the house of the Ikṣvākus, for your mind, once guided by virtue, has turned astray. Never before, O large-eyed one, did you do anything improper or displeasing to me; 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, can you desire the exile to the forest for that righteous and renowned one, for fourteen years? How can you wish for the harsh forest life for him, so delicate and devoted to righteousness? O auspicious-eyed one, why do you seek the banishment of Rāma, who is charming and ever devoted to serving you? Indeed, Rāma serves you even more than Bharata does; I have not seen Bharata show you such special regard. 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 Rāghava. Rāma, the tiger among men, with a pure heart, wins over all beings with gentle words and the affection of the people. Raghava conquers the worlds by truth, the twice-born by charity, his elders by service, and his enemies in battle by the bow. Truthfulness, generosity, austerity, renunciation, friendship, purity, straightforwardness, learning, and service to elders—all these are steadfast in Rāghava. In him, endowed with uprightness and brilliance like that of great sages, how can you wish for evil, O lady? I do not recall ever speaking a harsh word to anyone, being one who speaks kindly to all. How, then, for your sake, can I now speak to Rāma a word that is pleasing to you but painful to him? In Rāma are found patience, austerity, renunciation, truth, righteousness, gratitude, and even nonviolence toward all beings. Apart from him, where could I possibly turn? You ought to show compassion to me, Kaikeyī, who am old, worn, devoted to austerity, wretched, and lamenting in my distress. Whatever can be obtained on earth, up to the ocean’s edge, I will give it all to you; but do not let anger take hold of you. I fold my hands before you, Kaikeyī, and even touch your feet—be the refuge of Rāma; let unrighteousness not touch me here. Thus, overwhelmed by sorrow, lamenting, reeling, and nearly unconscious, the great king Daśaratha was completely overcome by grief.