Kaikeyī’s heart was set, and she spoke with unwavering resolve: “This is my highest desire; I choose the boon you granted me. And today, let me see Rāghava departing for the forest.” She continued, “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.” Thus begins the twelfth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. Hearing Kaikeyī’s cruel and unyielding words, the great king Daśaratha fell into deep thought, tormented beyond measure. He wondered in confusion, “Is this a daydream of mine, or is my mind deluded? Is it some affliction I have experienced, or a disturbance of my mind?” Lost in these thoughts, the king found no comfort. Tormented by Kaikeyī’s demands, he sat on the bare ground, breathing heavily, distressed and bewildered—like a deer caught in the gaze of a tigress. He felt as though he were a serpent, trapped in a circle and restrained by spells, full of deadly venom but unable to act. In his anger, the lord of men uttered words of reproach. Overwhelmed by grief, his mind clouded, he again lapsed into confusion. After a long, painful silence, the king, deeply afflicted, regained his senses and, burning with his own energy, turned to Kaikeyī in anger. “Cruel one, of wicked conduct, destroyer of this family!” he cried. “What wrong has Rāma done to you, or what sin have I committed, O wicked one? Rāghava has always behaved towards you as towards his own mother. For what reason, then, are you intent on this harm? You have been placed in this house by me, yet you seek my own destruction. Unaware, O princess, you are like a serpent with sharp poison; for when the whole world sings the praises of Rāma’s virtues— for what offense should I abandon my beloved son? I could even forsake Kausalya and Sumitra, or give up my own wealth.” Despair filled his voice as he continued, “If I do not see Rāma, my consciousness will be lost; can the world remain without the sun, or crops without water? But 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 most 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; what you, who speak kindly, 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, Rāghava 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 Rāghava. Rāma, the tiger among men, with a pure heart, wins over all beings with gentle words and wins the affection of the people.” “Rāghava 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—these are steadfast in Rāghava. In him, endowed with uprightness, O lady, equal to the gods, how can you wish for evil against Rāma, whose brilliance is like that of great sages?” “I do not recall ever speaking a harsh word to anyone, being one who speaks kindly to all; so how can I now, for your sake, speak to Rāma a word that is pleasing to you but painful to him? In whom there is 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, spent, 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 to you, Kaikeyī, and even touch your feet; be the refuge of Rāma—let unrighteousness not touch me here.” Thus, overwhelmed by sorrow, lamenting, and nearly losing consciousness, the great king Daśaratha was completely overcome by grief. As he kept pleading again and again for deliverance from this ocean of sorrow, Kaikeyī replied to him with words even harsher than before.