In the absence of a king, the land falls into disorder. Great sacrifices lose their meaning, for wealthy brahmins no longer distribute generous gifts to the worthy. The vibrant life of actors and dancers fades, festivals and prosperous gatherings cease to flourish. Merchants cannot fulfill their ambitions, and those who delight in stories find no joy in pleasant tales. Evening gardens, once filled with adorned maidens at play, now stand empty. Men no longer venture into forests with swift chariots, accompanied by their beloved women. Safety disappears: the wealthy, farmers, and cattle-herders do not sleep with open doors. Royal roads are bereft of majestic elephants adorned with bells and ornaments, even those venerable in age. The training grounds fall silent, for the twang of bowstrings and the release of arrows are no longer heard. Merchants, even those who have earned much merit, cannot travel safely along the roads. Solitary ascetics do not walk freely in contemplation, nor do sages return home at dusk. Without a king, security and welfare vanish, and armies cannot withstand enemy threats. Men do not assemble swiftly, adorned with splendid horses and chariots. Those skilled in the scriptures lose their prosperity, whether dwelling in forests or groves. Disciplined people no longer prepare garlands, sweets, and offerings for worship of the gods. Royal princes do not shine, adorned with sandalwood, aloe, and perfumes, like blossoming trees in spring. A kingdom without a king is as lifeless as rivers without water, forests without grass, or cows without herdsmen. Just as a banner signals a chariot and smoke signals fire, so the king is the banner of the land, having attained divinity among men. Without a king, nothing truly belongs to anyone; men, like fish, prey upon each other. Those who have broken boundaries, who are atheists or full of doubts, are brought to order only by the king’s punishment. The king is to his realm what sight is to the body—the source of truth and righteousness. He embodies truth and righteousness, preserves noble lineages, and is both mother and father, the benefactor of all. Through great conduct, the noble king surpasses even Yama, Kubera, Indra, and mighty Varuna. Without a king, the world would be utter darkness, and none would distinguish good from bad. While the great king lives, all follow only his command, just as the ocean remains within its bounds. Thus, seeing the conduct of the people, this kingdom has become like a wilderness without a king. The generous prince, son of Ikshvaku, should be crowned by you, O best of the twice-born. Let now the sixty-eighth chapter be heard in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, within the Ayodhyā section. Upon hearing these words, the sage Vasiṣṭha addressed all the friends, ministers, and brahmins gathered, saying: “Since Bharata now lives happily in his maternal uncle’s city, in the royal palace, together with his brother Śatrughna, let swift messengers go at once, riding fast horses, to bring back these two heroic brothers. Why should we delay?” All agreed, saying to Vasiṣṭha, “Let them go.” Vasiṣṭha then called out, “Come, Siddhārtha, Vijaya, Jayanta, Aśoka, and Nandana—listen carefully. Go swiftly to that city and royal palace with the fastest horses, leaving behind all sorrow, and say this to Bharata on my behalf: ‘The chief priest and all the ministers send you their greetings. Depart at once with haste; an urgent matter awaits you.’ But do not tell him that Rāma has gone into exile, nor that his father has died. Only inform him of the summons to the house of the Raghus. Take fine silk garments and splendid ornaments for the king and for Bharata, and go.” After eating food suited for their journey, the messengers returned to their homes, preparing to depart for Kekaya. They mounted their approved horses, performed the rites for departure, and, permitted by Vasiṣṭha, set out in haste. Traveling northward along the western bank of the long Aparaṭāla, they crossed the Mālinī river midway. After crossing the Gaṅgā at Hastināpura, they went westward, reaching the land of Pañāla and passing through the Kurujāṅgala region. As they journeyed, they observed lakes and rivers filled with pure water, and with their mission in mind, the messengers traveled swiftly onward.