From the sacred rivers—those that flowed eastward, upward, or across the land—and from holy lakes, wells, and ponds, even those with waters as white as milk, pure water was gathered. This water, along with that drawn from the oceans themselves, was brought together for a great purpose. With it came honey, curds, ghee, parched grains, darbha grass, fresh flowers, and sweet milk, all assembled as offerings for the solemn occasion. Eight beautiful maidens stood ready, their presence gracing the gathering, while a noble elephant, its strength barely contained, waited nearby. Golden and silver water jars, each covered and filled with milk, shone among the assembled items. These vessels, brimming with pure water and adorned with lotuses and water-lilies, gleamed white as the moon’s disk, their surfaces sparkling with jewels. For Rāma, the finest yak-tail fan was prepared, and a white parasol, radiant as the full moon, was set aside. All the auspicious and splendid items required for the consecration were arranged with care: a white bull and white horses stood ready, their presence marking the ceremony’s grandeur. Musicians and bards gathered, their instruments and voices prepared to celebrate the event as befitting the consecration of a prince from the illustrious Ikṣvāku line. Everything prescribed for the prince’s consecration had thus been collected, and all those involved assembled at the king’s command. Yet, as they gathered, they noticed the king was not present. They wondered aloud, “Who will inform the king for us? We do not see him, and already the sun has risen.” At that moment, Sumantra, honored among the king’s attendants, spoke to them: “By the king’s order, I have hurried to fetch Rāma. You are all worthy of honor from the king, and especially from Rāma himself. On the king’s behalf, I ask after your well-being, O blessed ones. The king has awakened, but the reason for his delay in coming…” With these words, the wise Sumantra made his way to the inner palace gate. Ever loyal to the palace, Sumantra entered the house of the lord of men, offering praises to the king’s noble lineage as he proceeded. Reaching the threshold of the king’s sleeping chamber, he stood respectfully just outside the inner curtain. There he offered blessings for Rāghava, invoking the virtues of Soma and Sūrya, as well as Śiva and Vaiśravaṇa, and prayed that Varuṇa, Agni, and Indra would grant victory. “The blessed night has passed, and an auspicious day has arrived,” he said. “Awaken, O tiger among kings, and attend to your duties. The foremost Brahmins, leaders of the army, and townspeople have all gathered here. They desire to see you; awaken, O Rāghava.” Thus did Sumantra, skilled in wise counsel, praise and rouse the king. Upon awakening, King Daśaratha spoke: “Bring Rāma here, as I instructed you. Why is my command delayed? I am not deeply asleep; bring Rāghava at once.” Once again, the king urged Sumantra, who bowed his head in reverence at the command. Feeling as if he bore joyful news, Sumantra departed the royal residence and entered the royal road, festooned with banners and flags. Delighted and full of anticipation, he made his way swiftly, hearing everywhere the happy conversations about Rāma and his coming consecration. The people’s joy was evident, and soon he beheld Rāma’s residence, radiant as Mount Kailāsa. The house shone like the palace of Indra, its great doors closed and adorned with countless balconies. Golden images, jeweled and coral-arched gateways, and walls gleaming like autumn clouds made it resemble a cavern of Mount Meru. Garlanded with precious gems, strewn with pearls and jewels, and perfumed with sandalwood and agaru, it filled the air with delightful fragrances, like a mountain peak in the rainy season. The calls of cranes and peacocks resounded, and beautifully carved deer surrounded the house, captivating all who beheld it. It gleamed with the brilliance of the sun and moon, as splendid as Kubera’s mansion, equal to Indra’s abode, and alive with many birds. The house soared high, like the peak of Mount Meru, and was crowded with people who had gathered, standing with joined palms in reverence. Villagers thronged the entrance, their faces bright with anticipation of Rāma’s consecration, and the gateway bustled with countless vehicles and respectful greetings. Sumantra saw the mighty elephant, Shatruñjaya, standing there—a mountain-like, cloud-dark beast, fierce and difficult to restrain even with goads, splendid and fit for Rāma himself. Riding his horse-drawn chariot, Sumantra made the palace grounds come alive with activity, his presence delighting the hearts of all the city’s people. Upon reaching the magnificent, wealthy house, Sumantra felt his hair stand on end with joy. The residence, teeming with deer and peacocks, was as splendid as the abode of Indra’s queen. Entering chambers adorned like Mount Kailāsa and resembling the dwellings of the gods, Sumantra passed by many dear and excellent attendants devoted to Rāma, finally reaching the pure inner quarters. There, he heard the joyful voices of people gathered for Rāma’s consecration, their words filled with auspicious wishes for the king’s son, delighting the whole world. Sumantra beheld Rāma’s palace, equal to Indra’s own, inhabited by deer and birds, towering like a peak of Mount Meru, radiant with its own brilliance. At the entrance, villagers crowded together, bearing gifts and offering salutations, while countless vehicles lined the bustling gateway. And there, standing in all his majesty, was the mighty elephant Shatruñjaya, like a great mountain shrouded in cloud, fierce and splendid, truly fit for Rāma.