Then, all the wealth belonging to Rāma was brought forth, accompanied by his dependents—a vast and impressive heap that caught the eyes of all present. Rāma, that tiger among men, joined by Lakṣmaṇa, began to distribute this wealth generously. He gave to the brāhmaṇas, to the young and the old, and to those in need, ensuring his gifts reached every worthy recipient. Among those who came forward was a tawny-haired brāhmaṇa of the Garga lineage named Trijaṭa. He lived a humble life, sustaining his family by tilling the forest with plough and spade. His young wife, accompanied by their children, spoke earnestly to her husband, reminding him that a husband is like a god to his wife. She urged him, “Set aside your plough and spade. Do as I say—go before the righteous Rāma. Perhaps you will receive something.” Trijaṭa, whose radiance was likened to that of Bhrigu and Angiras, made his way unhindered through the crowds, reaching even the fifth enclosure of the assembly. Approaching Rāma, he spoke humbly, “O Prince, mighty one, I am poor and have many children. I always live by tilling the forest—please consider my plight.” Rāma, with gentle humor, replied, “Not even a single one of a thousand cows has yet been given by me. As much as you encircle with your staff, that much you shall receive.” Eagerly, Trijaṭa secured his cloth around his waist, grasped his staff, and hurled it with all his strength. The staff flew from his hand, crossed the Sarayu river, and landed amidst a great herd of cows, near the oxen. Rāma, righteous and compassionate, embraced Trijaṭa on the riverbank and led those cows toward the brāhmaṇa’s hermitage. With kind words, Rāma consoled him: “Do not be angry; this was only a jest of mine. Indeed, this is your power, which none can surpass. Wishing to know it, I encouraged you for this very reason. Now, choose any other boon you desire. I declare truthfully, you shall not be restrained by me. Whatever of my wealth you wish, let it be given to you, so that I may gain both merit and fame.” Overjoyed, Trijaṭa, together with his wife, accepted the herd of cows and, in gratitude, offered blessings that increased Rāma’s fame, strength, and happiness. Rāma, whose manliness was complete, continued to distribute his great wealth among his friends, moved by words of proper honor. None were left unsatisfied—whether a twice-born friend, a servant, or a poor beggar, all received gifts and honors suited to their station. Now, listen as the thirty-third sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa, unfolds. Having given abundant wealth to the brāhmaṇas, together with Vaidehī, the two descendants of Raghu—Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa—set out with Sītā to see their father. Their weapons were carried by two attendants, and Sītā, adorned with garlands and ornaments, shone with radiant beauty. As they passed through the city, people climbed onto palaces, mansions, and the tops of towers, eager to catch a glimpse of the illustrious Rāma. The streets were so crowded that they could not be traversed; instead, the sorrowful citizens watched from the rooftops as Rāghava walked by. Seeing Rāma on foot with his brother and Sītā, the hearts of the people were overcome with grief, and they spoke many words among themselves: “He whom once a mighty fourfold army followed, now walks with only Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā. He, who knew the pleasures of sovereignty, would never speak falsely, for he holds dharma above all. She, whom even the beings of the sky could not see before, is now beheld by the people on the royal road. Sītā, accustomed to fragrant ointments and red sandalwood, will soon lose her radiance under the hardships of heat and cold. “Surely today, King Daśaratha speaks as if possessed, for what king would banish his beloved son? How could there be exile even for a son lacking virtues—what then of one whose conduct alone has won over the world? Compassion, kindness, learning, good character, self-restraint, and tranquility—these six virtues adorn Rāghava, foremost among men. “Because of his suffering, the people are deeply distressed, like creatures in summer whose ponds have dried up. All the world is afflicted by the suffering of this lord, just as a tree is harmed when its root is injured. Rāma is the root of mankind, the essence of righteousness, radiant in glory; the people are the flowers, fruits, leaves, and branches. “Therefore, like Lakṣmaṇa, let us all follow Rāghava, together with our wives and relatives, wherever he goes. Let us abandon our gardens, fields, and homes, and, united in joy and sorrow, follow Rāma, the righteous one. Let the treasures of the sea, the ruined courtyards, and the gathered wealth and grain lose all their value. Let our homes be covered in dust, abandoned by the gods, overrun by mice, and filled with their holes. Devoid of water and smoke, unclean, with lost taxes, sacrifices, mantras, offerings, and recitations, let them be broken as if by a harsh season, with shattered vessels, abandoned by us—let Kaikeyī take possession of these houses.” Thus, the people of Ayodhyā, moved by love and grief, watched as Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa set forth, their hearts yearning to follow the path of righteousness with their beloved prince.