In the great city of Ayodhyā, the wise and revered gathered, reflecting upon the nature of kingship. They declared, “The king is the embodiment of truth and righteousness; he is the very lineage of the noble. The king is both mother and father to his people, their greatest benefactor.” They spoke further, “By his noble conduct, the king surpasses even Yama, Kubera, Indra, and mighty Varuna. Without a king to distinguish good from evil, the world would be plunged into utter darkness, and nothing would be known. As long as the great king lives, we all follow only your command, just as the ocean remains within its bounds.” With these words, they turned to the venerable sage, saying, “O best of the twice-born, witness our conduct. Without a king, this kingdom is like a wilderness. The generous prince, the son of Ikṣvāku, should be crowned here by you as king.” Thus begins the next chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Ayodhyā section. Hearing these earnest words, the sage Vasiṣṭha addressed all the friends, ministers, and Brāhmaṇas assembled before him: “Since Bharata now dwells happily in his maternal uncle’s city, in the royal palace, together with his brother Śatrughna, let swift messengers go quickly with fast horses to bring back those two heroic brothers—why should we delay?” The assembly agreed at once, saying, “Let them go.” Vasiṣṭha then called out, “Come, Siddhārtha, Vijaya, Jayanta, Aśoka, and Nandana—listen to what you must do. Go swiftly to the city and the royal palace with the fastest horses, leaving behind 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.’ 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. Quickly take fine silk garments and splendid ornaments for the king and for Bharata, and go.” The messengers, having eaten food suited for their journey, returned to their homes and prepared to depart for Kekaya, mounting their swiftest horses. After performing the proper departure rites and completing all that was needed, they set out with Vasiṣṭha’s blessing. They traveled northward along the western bank of the long Aparaṭāla, crossing the Mālinī river at its center. After crossing the Gaṅgā at Hastināpura, they journeyed westward, reaching the land of Pañāla and passing through the Kurujāṅgala region. Along the way, they saw lakes and rivers full of pure water, and, intent on their mission, moved swiftly onward. Soon they reached the clear, divine Śaradaṇḍā river, alive with many kinds of birds and crowded with people. Arriving at the grove of Nikūla trees—a sacred place where wishes are fulfilled—they paid their respects before entering the city of Kuliṅga. At the right time, they came to the holy river Ikṣumatī, sacred to their ancestors, flowing from the Bodhibhavana. Passing through the land of Bāhlīka and the mountain called Sudāmāna, they beheld Brāhmaṇas learned in the Vedas, drinking water with cupped hands. Onward they traveled, seeing the abode of Vishnu, and the rivers Vipāśā and Śālmālī. They passed rivers, ponds, lakes, marshes, and pools, and along the great road, they saw lions, tigers, deer, and elephants. Their vehicles weary from the long journey, the messengers pressed on and at last reached the best of cities, the mountain settlement, without delay. Motivated by loyalty to their master, the protection of the royal family, and the preservation of the lineage, the messengers, undeterred and hurrying, arrived at the city during the night. Now begins the sixty-ninth chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. On that very night, as the messengers entered the city, Bharata experienced a most troubling dream. When morning came and the memory of the dream lingered, the son of the great king was deeply distressed. Noticing his gloom, his dear friends, wishing to lift his spirits, gathered in the assembly and began to tell stories. Some played music to soothe him, others danced, and yet others performed plays and comedies, but the noble Bharata, though surrounded by friends speaking kindly and making jokes, found no joy. One dear friend, seated among the companions, asked Bharata, “My friend, why do you not take pleasure?” To this, Bharata replied, “Listen to the reason for this sadness that has come upon me. In a dream I saw my father, unkempt, with loosened hair, falling from a mountain peak into a muddy, filthy pool. I saw him floating in that pool, repeatedly drinking oil with his hands, laughing again and again. Then, after eating rice balls made of sesame, his head hanging down, his whole body smeared with oil, he immersed himself in oil again and again. In my dream I saw the ocean dried up, the moon fallen to the earth, and the blazing fire suddenly extinguished.” Thus, Bharata’s heart was heavy with foreboding, even as the messengers arrived, bearing the summons that would soon change the course of his life and the fate of the kingdom.