Kausalya, Rama’s revered mother, spoke to him with hope and blessing: “I shall see you again, Rama, seated upon an auspicious throne, returned from the forest after fulfilling your father’s command.” She continued, “Having returned from the forest, endowed with blessings, always fulfill the wishes of my daughter-in-law, and go forth, my son.” With heartfelt devotion, she invoked the hosts of gods led by Shiva, the great sages, celestial beings, and serpents whom she had worshipped, beseeching them and the directions themselves to grant Rama their favor as he set out for the forest. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she completed her blessings according to sacred rite. Kausalya circumambulated Rama, embracing him again and again, gazing at him with unwavering love. Rama, having been so honored by his mother, repeatedly bowed and pressed her feet in reverence. Radiant with the glory of her blessings, he then made his way to Sita’s dwelling. Thus begins the twenty-sixth chapter of the Ayodhyakanda of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana. Having bowed to Kausalya, Rama, steadfast in righteousness and resolved to depart for the forest, took leave of his mother and stood firm in his duty. As he moved along the royal road, thronged with people, the royal son shone forth, stirring the hearts of the citizens by his virtues. Meanwhile, Vaidehi—Sita—devoted to austerity, heard none of the commotion. Her heart remained fixed only on the impending consecration for the heir-apparency. Having performed her divine duties, grateful and joyful in mind, the princess, well-versed in royal conduct, awaited the outcome. Rama entered his own splendidly adorned house, filled with delighted people, his face turned slightly downward out of modesty. Sita, rising up and trembling, saw her husband afflicted with sorrow, his senses disturbed by anxious thoughts. Seeing her, Rama, the righteous one, could not contain the grief in his heart and became visibly distraught. Observing him, pale-faced, sweating, and without resentment, Sita, tormented by sorrow, spoke: “What is this now, my lord? Today is the auspicious day of Brihaspati joined with Pushya, as declared by learned Brahmins, O Raghava; why are you troubled in mind?” She continued, noticing the absence of royal splendor: “Your charming face, usually shaded by a hundred-ribbed 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.” She looked for the signs of royal procession and found them missing: “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, O hero, 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 is sending me to the forest. Born in a great family, knower and follower of righteousness, listen, Janaki, to how this has now come to me in due course. By the king, my father Dasharatha, true to his word, two great boons were formerly granted to Kaikeyi, my mother. Now, as my consecration was being prepared and the king was set to install me, she has urged him, and that promise, bound by righteousness, is being fulfilled. For fourteen years I must dwell in the Dandaka forest, by my father’s command, and Bharata is appointed to the heir-apparency.” Rama explained further: “So I have come to see you, as I set out for the lonely forest; in Bharata’s presence, you must never speak of me. For men endowed with prosperity do not tolerate praise of others; therefore, my virtues must not be spoken of before Bharata. The everlasting heir-apparency has been given to him by the king; he must be especially honored by you, Sita, and so too the king. And I, upholding that promise to my teacher, will go to the forest today itself; be steadfast, O resolute one.” He gently instructed her: “When I have gone, O auspicious one, to the forest frequented by sages, you must devote yourself to vows and fasting, O blameless one. Rising early, performing worship of the gods as prescribed, you must bow to Dasharatha, my father, lord of the people. And my mother Kausalya, aged and worn by sorrow, putting righteousness first, deserves your special honor. And you must always bow to my other mothers as well; with affection, devotion, and service, they are all as mothers to me.” Rama continued, “And you must especially regard Bharata and Shatrughna as equal to brothers and sons, for they are dearer to me than life. You must never do anything displeasing to Bharata; for he, O Vaidehi, is king of the land and the family. For kings, when honored by good conduct and diligently served, are pleased, but are angered in the opposite case.” Thus, Rama revealed the sorrowful truth to Sita, guiding her with wisdom and love as he prepared to fulfill his father’s command and depart for the forest.