Rama, accompanied by Sita and Lakshmana, journeyed through the forest until they reached the hermitage of the renowned sage Bharadvāja. Out of reverence, the three stood at a respectful distance, wishing to behold the sage. Entering the hermitage, they saw Bharadvāja himself—a great soul, steadfast in his vows, surrounded by his devoted disciples. The sage radiated the calm focus and inner vision that comes from deep austerity. The sacred fire of the sage’s ritual burned before them, and Rama, with Lakshmana and Sita by his side, respectfully greeted Bharadvāja with joined palms. Rama, the eldest son of Dasharatha, then introduced himself to the sage: “Revered one, we are Rama and Lakshmana, sons of King Dasharatha.” He gestured to Sita and said, “This is my wife, Vaidehī, the virtuous daughter of Janaka. Blameless and pure, she has chosen to accompany me into this lonely forest of asceticism.” Pointing to his brother, Rama continued, “And this is Saumitra, my dear younger brother, who, firm in his vows, has followed me into exile at our father’s command.” He then addressed the sage with humility: “O revered one, instructed by our father, we have come to dwell in this forest of austerity. Here, we shall live righteously, subsisting only on roots and fruits.” Hearing these sincere words, Bharadvāja, the righteous sage, brought forth a cow, offerings, and water for Rama and his companions. Though scorched by his own austerities, the sage offered them various forest foods—roots and fruits—and prepared a dwelling for their comfort. The hermitage, alive with deer, birds, and ascetics all around, became a place of welcome and honor for Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana. After receiving the offerings and settling Rama, Bharadvāja addressed him with words full of righteousness: “O descendant of Kakutstha, it has been a long time since I have seen you here. I have heard of your exile, which has come upon you without cause. Here, at the confluence of great rivers, is a secluded and delightful place—holy and serene. Let the blessed ones dwell here happily.” Rama, ever mindful of the welfare of all, replied with gentle words: “O revered one, the people of the city and countryside are not far from here. If they learn of my presence, I fear they will flock to this hermitage to see Vaidehī and me. For this reason, I do not wish to reside here. But look, there is an excellent site for a hermitage at the edge of the forest. There, Sita, the daughter of Janaka, will find delight.” Hearing Rama’s thoughtful response, Bharadvāja spoke to him with understanding: “Ten krośas from here, dear one, is a holy mountain where you should dwell. It is frequented by great sages and is pleasing to behold from all sides. This mountain is called Citrakūṭa, home to cows, langurs, monkeys, and bears, and it resembles the sacred Gandhamādana. As far as the eye can see its peaks, one attains auspiciousness and the mind turns not to evil. Many sages have spent a hundred autumns there, and by their austerities—wearing skulls as headgear—they have ascended to heaven. I believe this secluded dwelling will be comfortable for you. Whether here or in the forest, stay, O Rama, together with me.” Bharadvāja, ever the gracious host and knower of righteousness, welcomed Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana, offering them all they desired. As Rama arrived at Prayāga to meet the sage, the blessed night passed in the hermitage, filled with the sharing of wondrous tales. The descendant of Kakutstha, weary from travel yet accustomed to comfort, spent the night happily with Sita and Lakshmana in the delightful abode of Bharadvāja. When dawn broke, Rama, the tiger among men, approached the sage, who shone with ascetic power, and spoke respectfully: “Having spent the night in your hermitage, O truthful one, we now seek your permission to depart.” Bharadvāja granted his blessing: “Go to Citrakūṭa, where honey, roots, and fruits abound. That place is suitable for your dwelling, O mighty Rama—adorned with flocks of birds, frequented by Kinnaras and serpents, and resounding with the calls of peacocks. Lordly elephants roam its slopes. That renowned mountain, Citrakūṭa, should be your destination. It is sacred and beautiful, rich with roots and fruits, where herds of elephants and groups of deer wander. There, by the riverbanks, slopes, and mountain streams, you will see these herds roaming. As you walk with Sita, your heart will rejoice on that auspicious earth, alive with the calls of cranes and cuckoos, and filled with many intoxicated deer and elephants. You will find a most delightful hermitage there.” After spending the night in the sage’s company, the two princes—destroyers of foes—paid their respects to Bharadvāja and set out toward the mountain. The great sage performed a blessing for their journey and, with affection like a father for his sons, watched them depart. Bharadvāja, radiant in his ascetic power, spoke to Rama, steadfast in truth and valor: “Having reached the confluence of the Gaṅgā and Yamunā, O best of men, you should follow the Kālindī river, which flows westward.” Following the sage’s guidance, Rama and Lakshmana, the noble descendants of Raghu, reached the swift-flowing Kālindī. There, they beheld the ancient and sacred ford of the river, marking a new chapter in their forest sojourn.