When Kaikeyī made her request, the king of Kekaya, her father, spoke truthfully to her about granting the boon she desired. The boon-giver, pleased, responded to the king, “Let this matter not be spoken of, O lord of the earth, whether it brings death or destruction.” Hearing these words, the king, his heart gladdened, dismissed your mother and enjoyed himself like Kubera, the lord of wealth. In the same way, Sumantra now addressed Kaikeyī, saying, “You too, following a path trodden by the wicked and blinded by delusion, are clinging to this false resolve, O you who see only evil. There is a saying that rings true to me now: ‘Men follow after their fathers, women after their mothers.’ Do not act in this manner. Accept the words of the lord of the earth, your husband. Attend to his wishes, and be the refuge of these people. “Do not, urged by sinful counsel, force your husband—equal to the king of the gods, the very sustainer of the world—to take up unrighteousness. Your husband, the illustrious and sinless King Dasharatha, lotus-eyed, will never break a promise once given, O queen. Let Rama, the eldest, generous, accomplished, and protector of his own duty and of all living beings, be consecrated as king. “For if Rama, abandoning his royal father, is sent to the forest, a great reproach will befall you throughout the world. Let Raghava rule the kingdom and be free from distress. No one but Raghava is fit to dwell in this noble city.” Thus, Sumantra, with joined palms, used both gentle and harsh words, striving to move Kaikeyī in the royal assembly. Yet the queen showed no agitation, nor distress; not even a change of color appeared on her face. Now begins the thirty-sixth chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. Afflicted by his promise and overwhelmed by sorrow, King Dasharatha spoke again to Sumantra, his tears falling, his sighs heavy: “O charioteer, let the army—rich with jewels and all four divisions—be prepared swiftly to accompany Rāghava. Let women famed for their beauty, eloquent speakers, and wealthy merchants adorn the prince’s well-arranged troops. Those who depend on him, those who delight in his strength—let them be given gifts and assigned to serve him. “Let the chief weapons, the townspeople, the carts, and the skilled forest hunters all follow Kakutstha. Hunting deer and elephants, drinking wild honey, and seeing the many rivers, perhaps he will not remember the kingdom he leaves behind. Whatever stores of grain or wealth I possess, let them go with Rāma as he dwells in the lonely forest. Performing sacrifices in holy places, giving abundant gifts, and meeting with sages, he will live happily in the wilderness. Meanwhile, mighty-armed Bharata will rule Ayodhyā; may all good fortune and every desire return to the illustrious Rāma.” But as Kaikeyī spoke thus about Rāma’s exile, fear seized her; her face dried up, and her voice faltered. Distressed and frightened, her face parched, Kaikeyī turned to the king and said, “Bharata will not desire a kingdom stripped of wealth, empty and devoid of any joy, like liquor whose spirit is gone.” Having cast aside all shame, Kaikeyī spoke these harsh words, and King Dasharatha, his eyes wide as lotus petals, addressed her: “Why do you strike me as I bear this heavy yoke? Unworthy woman, why did you not restrain me before this dreadful deed began?” Hearing these angry words, Kaikeyī, now doubly enraged, replied, “In your own lineage, Sagara banished his eldest son, Asamañja. So too should this one depart.” Thus, shamed by her words, King Dasharatha replied, and all the people present felt ashamed, though Kaikeyī herself did not understand their sorrow. Then an aged minister, Siddhārtha, pure and highly esteemed by the king, addressed Kaikeyī: “Asamañja, while playing on the road, seized children and, throwing them into the waters of the Sarayū, found pleasure in this wickedness. Seeing this, the townspeople, angered, spoke to the king: ‘Choose either Asamañja or us, O increaser of the realm.’ The king asked, ‘For what reason is there such fear?’ The citizens answered, ‘While playing, he throws our children, whose minds are still unsteady, into the Sarayū out of folly, and delights in it.’ “Hearing their words, the king abandoned his own son, though he had done him no harm, in order to please his people. He swiftly placed Asamañja, with his wife and attendants, upon a chariot, and exiled him for life, commanding, ‘Let him live in banishment as long as he lives.’ Taking a spade and basket, Asamañja wandered through mountain fastnesses, roaming in all directions, as if he had committed a great sin. “Thus did King Sagara, most righteous, not abandon his duty. But what sin has Rāma committed, that he is thus obstructed?