In a land bereft of a king, the world is cast into uncertainty and fear. The wealthy, the farmers, and the cattle-keepers no longer sleep soundly with their doors open, for safety is lost. Elephants, once adorned with bells and ornaments, do not stride proudly along the royal roads, even in their old age. The familiar, reassuring twang of bowstrings and the whistle of arrows in the training grounds fall silent. Merchants, despite their virtue and accumulated merit, cannot journey safely along distant roads. Even solitary ascetics and sages, who once wandered freely in contemplation or returned peacefully at dusk, now hesitate, their paths shadowed by danger. Without a king, security and welfare vanish, and armies cannot withstand their foes. Men no longer gather promptly, resplendent with horses and chariots. Those learned in the scriptures do not prosper, whether they dwell in forests or groves. The disciplined do not prepare garlands, sweets, or offerings for the gods’ worship. Royal princes, once radiant with sandalwood, aloe, and fine perfumes—like trees blossoming in spring—no longer shine. A kingdom without a king is like rivers without water, forests without grass, and cows without herdsmen. As the banner marks a chariot and smoke reveals fire, so too is the king the banner of the people—a being who has attained near-divinity on earth. In such a land, nothing is secure; property and even life are uncertain, and, like fish in water, men prey upon one another. Those who transgress boundaries, who are atheists or full of doubts, are kept in check only by the king’s just punishment. Just as sight guides the body, the king upholds truth and righteousness in the land. The king embodies truth, righteousness, noble lineage, and stands as both mother and father—a true benefactor to all. By his noble conduct, the king surpasses even Yama, Kubera, Indra, and mighty Varuna. Without a king, the world would be plunged into utter darkness, with no way to distinguish good from evil. While the great king lives, all abide by his command, as surely as the ocean remains within its shore. Therefore, O best of the twice-born, seeing our conduct and the state of the kingdom, it is like a wilderness without a sovereign. The generous prince, son of Ikshvaku, should be crowned as king by you. Thus concludes this portion, and now the sixty-eighth chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Ayodhyā section, begins. Hearing these grave words, the wise Vasiṣṭha addressed the gathered friends, ministers, and Brāhmaṇas. He spoke of Bharata, who was living happily in his maternal uncle’s city, within the royal palace, together with his brother Śatrughna. Vasiṣṭha urged that swift messengers be sent immediately, with the fastest horses, to summon the two heroic brothers without delay. All present agreed, and Vasiṣṭha called forth Siddhārtha, Vijaya, Jayanta, Aśoka, and Nandana, instructing them to listen carefully. “Go quickly to the city and royal palace,” he said, “mounted on the swiftest horses. Leave 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 reveal that Rāma has gone into exile, nor that his father has died—only tell him of the summons to the house of the Raghus. Take with you fine silk garments and splendid ornaments for the king and for Bharata, and go.” After taking food fit for travel, the messengers returned to their homes to prepare for the journey. Having performed the proper departure rites and completed all remaining tasks, they received Vasiṣṭha’s permission and set out in haste. Their path took them northward along the western bank of the long Aparaṭāla, crossing the Mālinī river midway. They crossed the sacred Gaṅgā at Hastināpura, journeyed westward into the land of Pañāla, and passed through the Kurujāṅgala region. Along the way, they beheld lakes and rivers filled with pure water, and, intent on their mission, pressed on swiftly. They soon reached the clear, divine Śaradaṇḍā river, teeming with birds and people. Entering a grove of Nikūla trees—a sacred place where wishes are fulfilled—they paid their respects and then entered the city of Kuliṅga. At the proper time, they came to the holy river Ikṣumatī, sacred to their ancestors and flowing from Bodhibhavana. They saw Brāhmaṇas, Veda-learned, drinking water with cupped hands, and then passed through the land of Bāhlīka and the mountain called Sudāmāna. Their journey brought them to the abode of Vishnu, and to the rivers Vipāśā and Śālmālī. Along the way, they beheld many rivers, ponds, lakes, marshes, and pools—each a testament to the richness and sanctity of the land through which they traveled, as they pressed onward in service of the kingdom.