As Rama prepared to depart for the forest, his mother Kausalya invoked blessings upon him, calling for the favor of beings from both sky and earth, the gods, and even those who might oppose him. She prayed that Shukra, Soma, Surya, Kubera, and Yama—all deities she had faithfully worshipped—would watch over Rama as he entered the Dandaka forest. She invoked the protection of fire, wind, smoke, and the sacred mantras spoken by sages, especially at moments of ritual touch, so that Raghunandana would be guarded. With garlands, divine fragrances, and hymns filled with reverence, Kausalya honored the hosts of gods. Her eyes overflowed with devotion as the great-souled Brahmin took up the sacred fire and performed the ritual for Rama’s auspiciousness, following all prescribed methods. Kausalya herself, foremost among women, prepared the offerings: ghee, white garlands, sacred fuel, and mustard seeds. The preceptor completed the ritual for peace and health, arranging the external oblation with what remained of the sacrificial materials. Then, with honey, curds, clarified butter, and auspicious words, blessings were recited by the assembled Brahmins, wishing Rama a safe journey into the forest. Kausalya, radiant and generous, gave the chief Brahmin his desired fee and spoke lovingly to her son. She invoked blessings that had graced Indra, the thousand-eyed, when he slew Vṛtra; those bestowed by Vinatā upon Suparṇa as he sought the nectar; those given by Aditi to the wielder of the thunderbolt as he struck down the demons at the birth of nectar; and those present when Vishnu, of incomparable brilliance, took his three great strides. She called upon the seers, oceans, islands, Vedas, worlds, and directions to grant Rama auspiciousness. Having completed the rites, the radiant Kausalya anointed Rama’s broad eyes with fragrant substances, performing a protective ritual with well-prepared, healing herbs and reciting mantras over him. Though her heart was heavy with sorrow, she spoke as if joyful, her words expressing only speech, not the depth of her feeling. She bowed, smelled his head, and embraced him, saying, “Go, Rama, may you attain your desire and travel happily. May I see you returned to Ayodhya, healthy and fulfilled in all aims, walking again the royal paths. Freed from sorrow, my face shining with joy, I shall see you returned from the forest, like the full moon newly risen. I shall see you again, Rama, seated on an auspicious throne, returned from the forest, having fulfilled your father’s command. Having returned, endowed with blessings, always fulfill the wishes of my daughter-in-law, and go forth, my son.” Kausalya prayed that the hosts of gods led by Shiva, the great sages, celestial beings, and serpents she had worshipped, along with the directions, would wish Rama well as he set out for the forest. Her eyes flowing with tears, she circumambulated Rama, embracing him again and again, gazing at him intently. Rama, having been circumambulated by his mother, bowed repeatedly and pressed her feet, then, radiant with her glory, went to Sita’s dwelling. Thus concludes the twenty-fifth chapter of the Ayodhyākāṇḍa in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Now, having bowed to Kausalya, Rama, steadfast in righteousness and resolute in his duty, took leave of his mother and stood firm on his path. As he walked along the royal road, thronged with people, his virtues stirred the hearts of the citizens. Meanwhile, Vaidehi—Sita—devoted to austerity, heard nothing of the commotion. Her heart remained fixed only on the impending consecration for the heir-apparency, and, having performed her divine duties, she waited with gratitude and joy for the outcome, well-versed in royal conduct. Rama entered his own splendidly adorned house, filled with delighted people, his face turned slightly downward out of modesty. Sita, rising and trembling, saw her husband afflicted with sorrow, his senses disturbed by anxious thoughts. Seeing her, Rama could not contain the grief in his heart and became visibly distraught. Observing him—pale-faced, sweating, yet unresentful—Sita, tormented by sorrow, asked, “What is this now, my lord? Today, the auspicious day of Brihaspati joined with Pushya, is declared by learned Brahmins, O Raghava; why are you troubled in mind? Your charming face, usually shaded by a white umbrella like sea-foam, does not shine forth today. Nor is your lotus-eyed face fanned by the two chief fly-whisks, bright as the moon and swan, as is customary. The eloquent bards and heralds, delighted, do not appear today to praise you, O bull among men, nor do the Sutas and Magadhas recite auspicious verses. The Brahmins, masters of the Vedas, do not anoint your head with honey and curds as prescribed, as they would for one consecrated. All the citizens and chiefs of the guilds, adorned, do not wish to follow you, nor do the townspeople and countryfolk.” Thus, Sita questioned Rama, perceiving the absence of royal celebration and the presence of sorrow, as she awaited an explanation for the change that had come upon her beloved husband.