As Rāma set forth, crowds gathered from all directions, surrounding him with devotion and awe. Behind him followed the finest horses and mighty elephants, vast as mountains, their presence a testament to the grandeur of the moment. Hundreds and thousands of people joined the procession, while at the forefront marched valiant warriors adorned with sandalwood and aloe, their arms gleaming with swords and bows, hope shining in their eyes. The air was alive with the sounds of instruments and the praises of bards, as the heroes roared like lions along the road. From the palace windows, women adorned in their finest stood watching, their voices and presence adding to the festival atmosphere. As Rāma, the destroyer of foes, moved forward, women showered him with abundant flowers, delighting in his flawless form and noble bearing. From the palaces and from the streets, people honored Rāma with heartfelt words: “Surely your mother Kausalyā rejoices, O delight of mothers, seeing you embark on this successful journey toward the ancestral kingdom, with Sītā, foremost among noble women, at your side.” The women gazed upon Sītā, beloved to Rāma, recognizing her as the best among noble ladies, attributing her fortune to the great austerities performed by the queen in times past. They saw her union with Rāma as radiant as Rohiṇī’s with the moon. As Rāma proceeded along the royal road, he heard sweet words spoken from the palace towers, and the gathered citizens expressed their joy in many ways. “Today, Rāghava attains prosperity and is about to receive royal favor. With him as our ruler, all our desires will be fulfilled. It is a blessing that he will govern this kingdom for a long time; under his rule, no one will ever see sorrow or misfortune.” Accompanied by horses neighing in chorus, elephants, and the auspicious sounds of bards and heralds, Rāma was honored by the finest musicians, praised as splendidly as Vaiśravaṇa himself. The great highway lay before him, crowded with elephants, chariots, horses, and multitudes of people. The crossroads overflowed with gems and wares, shining pure and bright. Rāma mounted his chariot, surrounded by joyful friends. Banners and flags fluttered above, and the air was fragrant with costly incense. As he gazed upon the city, its houses shone pale like clouds, teeming with people. The royal road, scented with incense and lined with heaps of sandalwood and aloe, awaited him. Along the way, there were the finest fragrances, silks of linen and cotton, unpierced pearls, and exquisite crystals. The splendid road was covered with flowers and foods, offerings high and low, unobstructed and glorious. It was adorned with curd, rice, barley, and the incense of aloe and sandalwood, as if the road itself was being worshipped in anticipation of Rāma’s consecration. The crossroads bloomed with garlands and fragrances, and he heard many blessings from his friends and well-wishers. Rāma honored all the people as was proper, following the example of his ancestors and forefathers. The citizens called out, “Once you are consecrated, protect this path as your father and forefathers did. With you as king, we will live most happily. We need no food or wealth; seeing you established in the kingdom is enough for us. Nothing is dearer to us than your consecration as king, you whose splendor is boundless.” Listening to these auspicious words, Rāma proceeded along the great highway. No one could turn their eyes or their thoughts from him; such was his presence. It was said that anyone who did not see Rāma, or whom Rāma did not see, was scorned by all and even by himself. Rāma’s compassion extended to all classes and ages, drawing everyone to follow him. He passed by mansions pale as clouds, adorned with jeweled lattices rising skyward, entering his father’s splendid residence, rivaling the palace of Indra. Passing through three courtyards guarded by archers and horses, Rāma crossed two more on foot. Having passed through all the courtyards, he dismissed the gathered people and entered the pure inner chambers. There, as Rāma entered his father’s presence, the people waited outside, delighted and eager for his return, as the ocean waits for the rising moon. Within, Rāma saw his father seated with Kaikeyī, his face drawn and sorrowful. With proper conduct, Rāma bowed first at his father’s feet and then at Kaikeyī’s. The king, his eyes brimming with tears, called out “Rāma,” but was so overcome with distress that he could neither look at his son nor speak. Witnessing this unprecedented and fearsome change in the king, Rāma too was seized by fear, as if he had unwittingly stepped upon a serpent.