Kausalya, foremost among women, prepared for her son’s journey with deep devotion. She gathered pure ghee, white garlands, sacred fuel, and mustard seeds—each item carefully chosen for its sanctity and significance in the ancient rites. The family preceptor, well-versed in sacred tradition, performed the prescribed offering for peace and well-being, using the prepared materials. With the remaining sacrificial items, he arranged the external oblation, ensuring every ritual act was complete. Then, with honey, curds, clarified butter, and auspicious words, he had the assembled brahmins recite blessings, invoking protection and safe passage for Rama as he prepared to leave for the forest. When these rites were accomplished, Rama’s illustrious mother, Kausalya, offered the chief of the brahmins a generous fee as was proper, and addressed her beloved son Raghava with words of profound blessing. “May the blessing that once arose for thousand-eyed Indra, revered by all the gods, at the slaying of Vritra, now become your blessing. May the blessing that Vinata bestowed upon Suparna as he sought the nectar be yours. May the blessing Aditi gave to the wielder of the thunderbolt when he struck down the demons at the birth of nectar be yours. May the blessing present when Vishnu of incomparable brilliance took his three great strides, O Rama, become your blessing. May the seers, the oceans, the islands, the Vedas, the worlds, and the directions, O mighty-armed one, bestow upon you auspicious blessings.” Having completed these sacred rites for her son, the radiant Kausalya anointed Rama, whose eyes were broad and beautiful, with fragrant substances. She performed a protective rite over him, using well-prepared, healing, and auspicious herbs, chanting mantras for his safety. Though her heart was weighed down by sorrow, she spoke as though delighted, her words carrying hope and encouragement, though her inner anguish remained concealed. Bowing to her son, smelling his head, and embracing him tightly, Kausalya said, “Go, Rama. May you attain your desire and travel happily. May I see you, my child, returned to Ayodhya, healthy and fulfilled in all your aims, once more walking the royal paths. Freed from all sorrowful thoughts, 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. When you return, blessed as you are, always fulfill the wishes of my daughter-in-law. Go forth, my son. The hosts of gods led by Shiva, the great sages, beings, and celestial serpents whom I have worshipped—may they, and the directions, wish you well as you set out for the forest, O Raghava.” Her eyes streaming with tears, Kausalya completed the blessings and circumambulated Rama, again and again embracing him and gazing at him with love and longing. Rama, having been thus honored and blessed by his mother, repeatedly bowed and pressed her feet. Radiant with the glory of her love and blessings, he then made his way to Sita’s dwelling. Having bowed to Kausalya, Rama, steadfast in righteousness and determined to depart for the forest, took leave of his mother and stood firm in his resolve, unwavering in his duty. The royal son, shining with virtue as he moved along the royal road crowded with people, stirred the hearts of the citizens, his noble qualities evident to all. But Sita, devoted to austerity, was unaware of these events. Her heart remained fixed on the impending consecration for the heir-apparency, hoping for Rama’s coronation. Having performed her divine duties, grateful and with a joyful mind, the princess, well-versed in royal conduct, awaited the outcome, anticipating a day of joy. Then Rama entered his own splendidly adorned house, filled with delighted people. Yet, out of modesty, his face was turned slightly downward. Sita, rising up and trembling with concern, saw her husband afflicted with sorrow, his senses disturbed by anxious thoughts. Seeing her, the righteous Rama could not contain the grief in his heart and became visibly distraught. Observing his pale face, his sweat, and his unresentful demeanor, Sita, tormented by sorrow, asked, “What is this, 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, 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 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. Why does your foremost flower-adorned chariot, yoked with four swift horses adorned with gold, not go before you? Nor do I see your splendid elephant, honored for all auspicious marks, dark as a rain cloud or mountain, leading your procession, O hero. Nor do I see your beautiful golden-embellished royal seat placed in front, as you proceed at the head. Now that the consecration is prepared, why is this with you? Your face shows an unfamiliar color, and no joy is seen.” To her, as she lamented in this way, Rama, the delight of the Raghus, spoke gently, “Sita, my father now is sending me to the forest.