King Dasharatha, determined to perform the great sacrifice for the sake of a son, gave careful instructions that all the pacifying rites be conducted precisely as prescribed by tradition. He reminded his ministers and priests that this sacrifice could indeed be accomplished by any king who possessed the means, but it must be performed without the slightest error. Learned Brahmarakshasas, ever vigilant, were known to seek out any flaw in such sacred undertakings. If a sacrifice were performed incorrectly, the consequences for the performer would be ruinous. Therefore, Dasharatha insisted that his sacrifice be completed strictly according to the rules. He called upon those capable among his ministers to make the necessary arrangements, and they all responded with respectful assent. The twice-born Brahmins, learned in righteousness, encouraged the noble king, assuring him of their support. With their permission granted, these Brahmins departed as they had come. After dismissing them, Dasharatha turned to his ministers once more, instructing them to ensure that the sacrifice was conducted exactly as directed by the officiating priests. Having given these instructions, the wise king retired to his palace. There, he approached his beloved wives and, with words full of affection, asked them to undertake the vow of consecration, explaining that he would perform the sacrifice for the sake of begetting a son. His pleasing words filled their hearts with joy, and their radiant faces shone like lotuses blooming at the end of winter. Now, listen to the next part of this sacred account as told in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. In private, Dasharatha’s charioteer, Sumantra, spoke to him. He offered to recount an ancient tale, as he had heard it from the elders and as it had once been told by the venerable sage Sanatkumāra. In the presence of sages, it was foretold that the coming of Dasharatha’s son was linked to a great sage: Vibhāṇḍaka, son of Kāśyapa. Vibhāṇḍaka’s own son, Ṛśyaśṛṅga, would grow up in the forest, living always as a sage among the woods, knowing no one else and following his father alone. This great-souled Ṛśyaśṛṅga would observe a strict discipline of celibacy, a fact well known among people and recounted by the Brahmins. As Ṛśyaśṛṅga lived thus, the destined time arrived. At that very moment, while serving the sacred fire and his illustrious father, the powerful Romapada became renowned as king among the people of Anga. But due to a transgression committed by Romapada, a terrible calamity befell his kingdom. In his distress, Romapada summoned learned Brahmins and addressed them, seeking their guidance: “You are versed in sacred rites and know the customs of the world. Instruct me in the proper discipline and expiation that should be performed.” The eminent Brahmins replied that, by every means possible, the king must bring to his kingdom Ṛśyaśṛṅga, the son of Vibhandaka, a Brahmin accomplished in the Vedas. Once brought with honor, the king should give him his daughter Shanta in marriage, with all proper rites and attention. Hearing this, King Romapada became anxious, wondering how such a powerful sage could be brought from the forest. After careful deliberation with his ministers, he resolved to send his priests and counselors, treating them with respect and honor. Yet, when these men heard the king’s command, they hesitated, troubled and fearful of approaching the sage, and tried to persuade the king otherwise. Still, after further consideration, they assured the king that they would bring Ṛśyaśṛṅga and that there would be no fault in their actions. Thus, by the efforts of the king of Anga, Ṛśyaśṛṅga was brought to the kingdom by courtesans. As soon as he arrived, rain fell upon the land, ending the calamity, and Shanta was given to him in marriage. In this way, Ṛśyaśṛṅga became the king’s son-in-law, and it was foretold that he would grant Dasharatha the sons he so desired. Sumantra, having recounted all that Sanatkumāra had told, paused. Delighted by this tale, Dasharatha asked Sumantra to explain in detail how Ṛśyaśṛṅga had been brought out of the forest. Now, listen to the next chapter of the glorious Rāmāyaṇa. Thus prompted, Sumantra addressed the king and his ministers, recounting exactly what had happened. Romapada, together with his ministers and priest, devised a plan that was both safe and without fault. They knew that Ṛśyaśṛṅga, dwelling in the forest, devoted to austerity and study, had never known the company of women or the pleasures of the world. They decided that the sage could be enticed by sense-objects—delightful and alluring things that could disturb even the minds of men of great discipline. By such means, they hoped to bring him quickly to the city. The plan was set: beautiful courtesans, adorned with ornaments, would go to the forest. Using various means of persuasion, and treated with honor, these women would attempt to bring the sage to the city. The king, hearing this plan from his priest, agreed, and the priest and counselors acted accordingly. The chief courtesans, instructed in their task, entered the great forest. Not far from the hermitage, they sought an opportunity to see Ṛśyaśṛṅga. The steadfast sage’s son, ever content with his father and the life of the hermitage, had never strayed far from it. From birth, he had never seen a woman, a man, or any other being from the city or kingdom. Then, those women, adorned in varied attire and singing with sweet voices, approached Ṛśyaśṛṅga and spoke to him, setting in motion the events that would change the course of destiny.