Rāma, accompanied by Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, addressed the venerable sage Bharadvāja with gentle humility. “If we remain here, people will surely come to see Vaidehī and me. For this reason, I do not wish to stay at this place.” With deep respect, he continued, “O revered one, look there, at that excellent hermitage site on the edge of the forest. There, Vaidehī—the daughter of Janaka and deserving of happiness—will surely find delight.” Hearing these auspicious words, the great sage Bharadvāja responded to Rāma, conveying their meaning with kindness. “Ten krośas from here, dear one, there is a sacred mountain where you may dwell. It is a holy place, often visited by great sages, and pleasant to behold from all sides. That mountain is called Citrakūṭa. It is frequented by cows, langurs, monkeys, and bears, and in its beauty, it resembles Gandhamādana itself. As far as the eye can see the peaks of Citrakūṭa, one attains auspiciousness and the mind does not turn toward evil. Many sages have spent a hundred autumns there, and by their austerities—bearing skulls as headgear—they have ascended to heaven. I believe this secluded dwelling will be comfortable for you. Whether here or in the forest, O Rāma, stay together with me.” Then, Bharadvāja, knower of righteousness, welcomed Rāma as a dear guest, along with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, offering them all that they desired. As Rāma arrived at Prayāga to meet the great sage, the blessed night passed as they recounted many wondrous tales. The scion of Kakutstha, weary and accustomed to comfort, spent that night happily with Sītā as the third, in the delightful hermitage of Bharadvāja. When the night had passed, Rāma—the tiger among men—approached Bharadvāja, who radiated with ascetic power. With gratitude, Rāma said, “Having spent the night in your hermitage, O truthful one, we now seek your permission to depart from this dwelling.” As the new day dawned, Bharadvāja spoke: “Go to Citrakūṭa, abundant with honey, roots, and fruits. I think that place is suitable for your dwelling, O mighty Rāma. It is adorned with flocks of birds and frequented by Kinnaras and serpents. The calls of peacocks resound there, and lordly elephants roam—let that renowned mountain, Citrakūṭa, be your destination. It is sacred and beautiful, rich with roots and fruits, where herds of elephants and groups of deer wander. As you roam with Sītā, your heart will rejoice on that auspicious earth, resounding with the calls of joyful cranes and cuckoos, and filled with many intoxicated deer and elephants. There, you will find a most delightful hermitage.” Let the fifty-fifth sarga be heard in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. Having spent the night there, the two princes—destroyers of foes—paid their respects to the great sage and then set out toward the mountain. The sage performed a blessing for their journey and, watching them depart, followed them with the affection of a father for his sons. Then Bharadvāja, radiant in ascetic power, began to speak to steadfast Rāma: “Having reached the confluence of the Gaṅgā and Yamunā, O best of men, you should follow the Kālindī river, which flows westward. Upon reaching the swift-flowing Kālindī, you will see the ancient, sacred ford of that river.” The two descendants of Raghu beheld the sacred ford. “There, after making a raft, you should cross the shining river. Then, upon reaching a great banyan tree with lush green foliage—grown large with many trees, dark and frequented by perfected beings—there Sītā should offer her joined palms and utter auspicious blessings. Once you have reached that tree, you may stay or move on. After traveling about a krośa further, you will see the blue forest—beautiful, with palāśa and jujube trees, and bamboo from the Yamunā. I have taken this path to Citrakūṭa many times. It is pleasant, gentle, and free from forest fires.” Thus describing the way, the great sage turned back. Rāma respectfully replied, “So be it,” and, dismissed by Rāma, the sage withdrew. As he departed, Rāma spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, “We are truly blessed, O Saumitri, that the sage shows us such compassion.” The two mighty and wise brothers conferred together, and, placing Sītā at the front, they proceeded to the river Kālindī. Upon reaching the swiftly flowing river, they constructed a sturdy raft from a bundle of wood. They covered it with dry bamboo and wrapped it with roots; then, gathering branches of cane and jambu trees, Lakṣmaṇa fashioned a comfortable seat for Sītā. Rāma, son of Daśaratha, seated his beloved as if placing her upon a throne of fortune. They placed their bows and arrows on the raft, and at Sītā’s side, her garments and warm coverings. Rāma carefully arranged the hard quivers and weapons, then, seating Sītā first, the two brothers took hold of the raft. The heroic sons of Daśaratha crossed over, and as they reached the middle of the Kālindī, Sītā offered her salutations. With folded hands, she prayed, “Farewell, O goddess! May I cross you safely; may my vow of fidelity be preserved. I will worship you with a thousand cows and a hundred jars of liquor.” Thus, with reverence and gratitude, Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa continued their journey toward their forest dwelling, guided by the sage’s blessings and the promise of peace in the sacred woods of Citrakūṭa.