Lakshmana, his heart brimming with devotion, turned to Rama and spoke with deep feeling, “O Raghava, neither Sita nor I could live even for a moment without you—just as fish cannot survive when taken from water.” He continued, “Truly, I have no wish to see my father, nor Shatrughna, nor even the ascetic Sumitra, nor even heaven itself, if it is without you.” Sita, seated not far away and comfortably settled, watched as the two righteous brothers, Rama and Lakshmana, lay down upon a bed of leaves beneath the broad sheltering branches of a banyan tree. Lakshmana’s words, filled with excellence and abundance, inspired Rama to embrace life in the forest with respect and resolve. The noble Raghava devoted himself wholly to righteousness, practicing supreme austerity for a long time. In that lonely forest, the two mighty scions of the Raghu line—Rama and Lakshmana—felt neither fear nor anxiety. They moved about like lions roaming the mountain slopes, undaunted and serene. Now, listen to the next part of this sacred tale as told in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. After spending the night safely beneath that great tree, the brothers awoke when the spotless sun had risen and prepared to depart. They journeyed toward the place where the sacred Bhagirathi Ganga meets the Yamuna, entering a vast and dense forest. Along their way, these illustrious ones beheld many lands and delightful places, seeing sights that were wondrous and new to them. As they traveled safely, marveling at the varied trees, the day neared its end. Rama turned to Saumitri and said, “Look, Saumitri! Near Prayaga, there rises a column of smoke—I think it is the sacred fire of a sage, the sign of the divine Agni. Surely, we have reached the confluence of the Ganga and the Yamuna, for I hear the sound of water striking against water. See—here are logs split by forest dwellers, and in the ashram of Bharadvaja, many kinds of trees can be seen.” The two archers, Rama and Lakshmana, walked on happily as the day waned, and soon they reached the dwelling of the sage at the confluence of the sacred rivers. As Rama arrived at the ashram, his footsteps startled the deer and birds, but after walking for a while, he drew near to the sage Bharadvaja. Together with Sita, the two heroes approached the sage’s hermitage, standing at a respectful distance, wishing to see the great-souled sage. Entering the ashram, they saw Bharadvaja surrounded by his devoted disciples, steadfast in his vows, focused, and endowed with vision gained through austerity. Observing the sacred fire offering of the sage, Rama, along with Saumitri and Sita, greeted him reverently with joined palms. Then Rama, the elder brother of Lakshmana, introduced himself to the sage: “Revered one, we are the sons of Dasharatha—Rama and Lakshmana. This is my wife, Vaidehī, the virtuous daughter of Janaka; she, blameless, has accompanied me into this lonely forest of asceticism. Saumitri, my dear younger brother, has followed me, sent into exile by our father. This brother, firm in his vows, has come with me to the forest. O revered one, instructed by our father, we shall enter this forest of austerity; there, we shall practice only righteousness, subsisting on roots and fruits.” Hearing these words of the wise prince, the righteous sage Bharadvaja brought a cow, offerings, and water for them. He, scorched by his own austerities, offered them various kinds of forest food, roots, and fruits, and also prepared a dwelling for their comfort. Surrounded by deer, birds, and sages on all sides, Bharadvaja welcomed Rama with honor and hospitality. After receiving these offerings and seating Raghava, the sage Bharadvaja spoke words full of righteousness: “O descendant of Kakutstha, after a long time I see you come here. I have heard of your exile, which is without cause. Here is a secluded place at the confluence of great rivers, holy and delightful; let the blessed ones dwell here happily.” Thus addressed, Rama, always devoted to the welfare of all, replied with auspicious words: “O revered one, the people of the city and countryside are nearby. If they see me here, I think they will visit this hermitage. People will come to see Vaidehī and me; for this reason, I do not wish to reside here. O revered one, look at that excellent hermitage site at the edge; there, Vaidehī, the daughter of Janaka, deserving of happiness, will find delight.” Hearing these auspicious words, the great sage Bharadvaja replied to Raghava: “Ten krośas from here, dear one, is a mountain where you may dwell. It is holy, frequented by great sages, and pleasant to behold from all sides. It is known as Citrakūṭa, a place where cows, langurs, monkeys, and bears roam, and it resembles Gandhamādana. As far as a man can see the peaks of Citrakūṭa, he attains auspiciousness and his mind turns not to evil. Many sages have spent a hundred autumns there; by their austerity, with skulls as their headgear, they have ascended to heaven. I think this secluded dwelling will be comfortable for you. Whether here or in the forest, stay, O Rama, together with me.” Then Bharadvaja, knower of righteousness, welcomed Rama—his dear guest—along with his wife and brother, offering all that they desired. As Rama arrived at Prayaga to meet that great sage, the blessed night passed peacefully, filled with the recounting of many wondrous tales.