Just as rivers run dry without water, forests turn barren without grass, and cows wander lost without their herdsman, so too does a kingdom languish without a king to guide and protect it. The king is the very banner of the realm, just as a flag marks a chariot and smoke signals fire; he stands as our noble standard, having attained a place among the divine through his rule. In a land bereft of a king, no one can truly claim anything as their own—men fall upon one another like fish in a pond, preying and being preyed upon. Even those who have broken all boundaries, who scoff at the divine or are riddled with doubts, are brought into order and righteousness by the king’s just punishment. The king is to the kingdom what sight is to the body—a source of discernment, of truth, and of dharma. Indeed, the king himself embodies truth and righteousness; he is the scion of the noble line, the benefactor of all, and stands in the place of both mother and father to his people. Through his virtuous conduct, a noble king even surpasses mighty Yama, Kubera, Indra, and Varuna. Without a king, the world would fall into utter darkness, unable to distinguish good from evil. As long as the great king lives, all obey his command, just as the ocean never oversteps its bounds. Therefore, O best of the twice-born, seeing how we now conduct ourselves, this kingdom is like a wilderness without a king. It is fitting that the generous prince, the son of Ikshvaku, be crowned as king by you. Now, let the sixty-eighth chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Ayodhyā section, be heard. When these words were spoken, the sage Vasiṣṭha addressed all the friends, ministers, and assembled Brāhmaṇas. He said, “Since Bharata is now living contentedly in his maternal uncle’s city, in the royal palace with his brother Śatrughna, let swift messengers be sent at once, with the fastest horses, to bring back those two heroic brothers. Why should we delay?” All agreed with Vasiṣṭha, saying, “Let them go.” He then summoned the trusted messengers: Siddhārtha, Vijaya, Jayanta, Aśoka, and Nandana. “Come, listen to what you must do,” he instructed. “Go swiftly to the city and palace with the fastest horses, casting aside all sorrow. 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 this summons to the house of the Raghus. Take with you fine silk garments and splendid ornaments for the king and for Bharata, and go.” The messengers, after eating food fit for the journey, returned to their homes and prepared for departure. Once they had performed the necessary rites and completed their final tasks, Vasiṣṭha gave them leave, and they set out in haste. Traveling northward along the western bank of the long Aparaṭāla, they crossed the Mālinī river midway. After fording the Gaṅgā at Hastināpura, they turned west, passing through the land of Pañāla and the region of Kurujāṅgala. They saw lakes and rivers brimming with pure water and pressed on, intent on their mission. With great speed, they reached the clear, sacred river Śaradaṇḍā, alive with birds and people. Entering the grove of Nikūla trees—a holy place where wishes are fulfilled—they paid their respects and then entered the city of Kuliṅga. At the right time, they arrived at the holy Ikṣumatī river, sacred to their ancestors, flowing from the Bodhibhavana. Passing through lands where Brāhmaṇas drank water with cupped hands and chanted the Vedas, they journeyed through Bāhlīka and the Sudāmāna mountain. They beheld the abode of Vishnu, and the rivers Vipāśā and Śālmālī, as well as marshes, ponds, and lakes. Along the great road, they saw lions, tigers, deer, and elephants, never wavering in their resolve to fulfill their master’s command. Though their horses grew weary from the long journey, the messengers pressed on, finally reaching the splendid city, nestled in the mountains, without delay. For the sake of their master’s pleasure, the protection of the royal family, and the preservation of the lineage, these unwavering messengers arrived at the city during the night. Now, let the sixty-ninth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa, be heard. On that very night, as the messengers entered the city, Bharata was troubled by a disturbing dream. When dawn broke and he recalled the dream, the son of the great king was filled with deep distress. His dear friends, seeing his sorrow, gathered around him in the assembly, telling stories to lift his spirits. Some played music, others danced, and some performed plays and comedies. Yet, though surrounded by friends speaking kindly and making merry, the noble Bharata found no joy. One dear friend, seated among the companions, finally asked Bharata, “My friend, why do you not take pleasure?