With the neighing of noble horses echoing like the bustle of a village, and mighty elephants advancing in stately formation, the procession moved forward. Auspicious bards and heralds led the way, while the finest musicians played in honor of the prince, their melodies praising him as the gods might praise Vaiśravaṇa himself. Rama beheld the grand highway before him, crowded with elephants, chariots, and horses, and throngs of people. The crossroads overflowed with precious gems and a wealth of goods, shining with purity and abundance. Let us now hear the seventeenth chapter. Rama mounted his chariot, surrounded by joyful friends. The vehicle was adorned with banners and flags, and the air was perfumed with costly incense. As the illustrious Rama gazed upon the city, he saw its houses shining pale, like clouds in the sky, amidst the teeming populace. He proceeded along the royal road, its center scented with fragrant incense and lined with heaps of sandalwood and aloe. The finest fragrances filled the air, and silks of linen and cotton lay spread out, along with unpierced pearls and exquisite crystals. The splendid royal road was unobstructed, covered with various flowers and foods, both high and low. Rama beheld the royal road as the lord of the gods might see the heavens, adorned with offerings of curd, rice, and barley, and incense of aloe and sandalwood. The crossroads were always worshipped with garlands of many kinds and fragrant scents, and Rama heard many blessings spoken by his friends. He honored all the people as was proper, proceeding as his ancestors and forefathers had done. The people spoke with devotion: “Today, once you are consecrated, protect this path, as we were nurtured by your father and all the forefathers. Then, with Rama as king, we will live most happily. We have no need now for food or great wealth; if we see Rama established in the kingdom, that is enough for us. Nothing will ever be dearer to us than the consecration of Rama, whose splendor is boundless, as king.” Hearing these and other auspicious words from friends and well-wishers, which honored him, Rama proceeded along the great highway. No one could withdraw their mind or eyes from that foremost man, even as Rama passed by. Whoever did not see Rama, or whom Rama did not see, was scorned by all people, and even his own self despised him. That righteous one showed compassion to all classes and to all ages; therefore, they all followed him. With mansions pale as clouds, adorned with jeweled lattices, rising as if to cover the sky, Rama entered that foremost house on earth, rivaling the palace of Indra—the prince’s own father’s residence, shining with splendor. Passing through three courtyards guarded by archers and horses, the best of men then crossed two more courtyards on foot. Having passed through all the courtyards, the son of Dasharatha dismissed all the people and entered the pure inner chambers. When he entered his father’s presence, all the people, delighted with the prince, waited for his return, as the ocean waits for the moon’s rising. Let the eighteenth sarga be heard in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. There, Rama saw his father seated, dejected, with Kaikeyī, his face dried and sorrowful. First, with proper conduct, Rama bowed to his father’s feet; then, with full composure, he bowed to Kaikeyī’s feet. The king, his eyes filled with tears, uttered “Rama,” but was too distressed to look at him or to speak. Seeing this unprecedented, fearsome appearance of the king, Rama too was seized by fear, as if he had stepped on a serpent. He saw the great king, tormented by grief and sorrow, sighing deeply, his mind disturbed and troubled, his senses joyless. Like the ocean, usually unshaken but now agitated; like the sun eclipsed; like a sage who has spoken falsehood. Perceiving the king’s grief, unfathomable as it was, Rama became even more anxious, like the ocean at the time of the full moon. Devoted to his father’s welfare, Rama pondered four possibilities: “Why does the king not greet me today?” “At other times, even if angry, my father is pleased to see me; what distress has now arisen in him when he looks upon me?” Appearing sorrowful, afflicted by grief, his face downcast, Rama bowed to Kaikeyī and spoke these words: “I hope I have not unknowingly done wrong, on account of which my father is angry with me. Tell me, and please appease him. Why is my father, who is always affectionate toward me, now displeased, his face sorrowful, and does not speak to me? I hope that neither physical nor mental distress troubles him; for happiness is always hard to obtain, and sorrow or anxiety may arise. I trust that nothing inauspicious has happened to Prince Bharata, who is pleasing to behold, or to the mighty Shatrughna, or to any of my mothers. If I were to displease the great king, or fail to carry out my father’s command, I would not wish to live even for a moment while the king is angered. Since a person sees the very source of his own existence here, how could he not act according to the wishes of that visible divinity?” Thus, Rama stood before his father and Kaikeyī, his heart filled with concern, awaiting their words with utmost reverence.