After Rama, the mighty son of Dasaratha, had prepared for his journey, he and his charioteer readied the chariot, turning it to face the north, and set out for the forest. Auspicious omens blessed their departure, and thus began their exile. Listen now to the next chapter in the sacred Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda. When the long night passed, the citizens of Ayodhya awoke to a world without Rama. Overwhelmed by grief, they stood motionless, their hearts shattered by his absence. Tears flowed freely, born of deep sorrow, and again and again they searched the roads and horizons, hoping for a glimpse of Rama—but they could not see him. Their faces drawn and stricken, deprived of that wise and compassionate prince, the learned and gentle among them spoke words of lamentation. “Fie upon that sleep which deceives the mind!” they cried. “This very day, we cannot behold Rama, broad-chested and mighty-armed. How has Rama, ever steadfast and true to his word, abandoned his devoted people and departed as an ascetic? He, who always cared for us as a father cares for his sons—how has that foremost son of the Raghu line left us behind and gone to the forest?” Despair gripped them. “Let us meet our end here, or undertake the great departure ourselves. What purpose is there in living, bereft of Rama? There are dry woods in abundance—let us build a funeral pyre and enter it, rather than endure this sorrow. What shall we say to Rama, the mighty-armed, unresentful, sweet-spoken one? How can we bear to say, ‘It was we who led Raghava away’?” They mourned for their city. “Surely Ayodhya will be desolate, seeing us return without Raghava. It will become joyless, filled only with women, children, and the aged. Having left with that heroic, noble-souled one, and now bereft of him, how shall we look upon our city again?” Thus, raising their arms in anguish, the people uttered many such laments, their cries like cows mourning calves lost from the herd. They tried to follow the path of Rama’s chariot, but soon, the way became uncertain and despair overwhelmed them. Confused, they turned back, saying to one another, “What is this? What shall we do, struck down by fate?” With heavy hearts, they retraced their steps by the same route, returning to Ayodhya, the city now filled with trouble and sorrow. As they beheld their home, their minds were agitated by loss, and tears streamed from their grief-filled eyes. “This city, bereft of Rama, no longer shines,” they lamented. “It is like a river whose serpents have been snatched away by Garuda from its pools, like the sky without the moon, or the ocean without water. It is a joyless city, and our minds are bewildered.” Entering their splendid mansions, sorrow weighed upon them so heavily that they could not recognize their own family or friends. They gazed about, their joy utterly vanished. In this state of distress and deep affliction, their eyes brimming with tears, the people were overwhelmed by sorrow and the wish to die. After following Rama and then returning, the city-dwellers seemed as if their very spirits had departed, their minds lost in grief. Each returned to his own home, surrounded by children and spouses, and all shed tears, their faces covered in weeping. No one rejoiced, no one found gladness. Merchants did not display their goods, and nothing seemed attractive; even householders did not cook their meals. Even those who recovered lost wealth felt no joy, nor did mothers rejoice when they received their firstborn sons. In every house, women wept and reproached their husbands who had returned home, their words sharp and bitter, tormented by grief. “What use are houses, or wives, or wealth?” they cried. “What use are sons or even pleasures, for those who do not see Raghava? Only one true man remains in the world—Lakshmana, who, together with Sita, follows Kakutstha Rama and serves him in the forest. Blessed are the rivers, the lotus-filled lakes and ponds, whose pure waters Kakutstha will bathe in. The delightful forests, the great rivers, the vast marshlands, and mountains with their peaks—all these will bring beauty to Kakutstha.” They imagined the forests and mountains welcoming Rama. “Any forest or mountain that Rama approaches will honor him as a beloved guest. Even out of season, the finest blossoms and fruits will appear, offered in abundance. The mountains will pour forth pure waters, revealing wondrous and colorful waterfalls. The trees on the mountain peaks will delight Raghava; wherever Rama is, there is no fear, nor can there be defeat. He is a hero, mighty-armed, the son of Dasaratha. Before he goes far, let us follow Raghava!” They longed for his presence. “The shade of such a great soul as our lord is comforting; he is our protector, our refuge, our goal. We will serve Sita, and you will serve Raghava,” the women said to their husbands, their grief pouring out in words. “Raghava will ensure your welfare and security in the forest; Sita, though a woman, will provide for the welfare and security of us all.” Thus, the city of Ayodhya mourned, its people lost in sorrow, their lives dimmed by the absence of Rama, their beloved prince.