Bharata, troubled and anxious, began to recount a strange and ominous dream. He described how, within that vision, the mighty tusk of the royal elephant was shattered, and a blazing fire was suddenly snuffed out. He saw the very earth itself split open, countless trees withered and dried, and mountains scattered and wreathed in smoke. Seated upon an iron throne and clad in black garments, the king appeared—mocked by women with dark and tawny complexions. Then, hastening and righteous by nature, adorned with red garlands and ointments, the king departed facing south in a chariot drawn by donkeys. It seemed to Bharata as if a woman in red attire, a demoness with a twisted posture, was dragging the king away before his very eyes. Overwhelmed by terror at such sights, Bharata confessed, “In this dreadful night, I have seen such portents that either I, Rama, the king, or Lakshmana will surely die. For it is said that a man who, in a dream, travels in a vehicle drawn by donkeys soon beholds the rising smoke of the funeral pyre.” Because of these dreadful omens, Bharata admitted he was deeply distressed, unable to honor those before him, his throat parched, his mind uneasy. Though he saw no apparent cause for fear, he felt a deep foreboding; his voice had lost its resonance, and his very shadow seemed diminished. He felt an unexplainable disgust toward himself and could not shake the great fear that clung to his heart, pondering the king’s inscrutable appearance in the dream. As Bharata spoke, the seventieth chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa unfolds. While he was still describing his troubling vision, a group of messengers arrived, their horses weary from the journey. They entered the splendid royal palace and city, having crossed even the most impassable of moats. Once inside, the messengers, after meeting the king and his son and being properly honored, respectfully touched the king’s feet and spoke to Bharata. They conveyed the priest’s well-wishes, as well as those of all the ministers, and urged Bharata to depart quickly, for urgent duties awaited him. They presented him with precious garments and ornaments, instructing him to give these to his maternal uncle. The king also sent twenty crores for Bharata’s maternal uncle and ten crores for Bharata himself. Accepting these gifts, Bharata, ever affectionate toward his friends, honored the messengers and inquired anxiously after his family: “Is my father, King Dasharatha, well? Has any harm befallen Rama or the great-souled Lakshmana? Is noble Kausalya, devoted to righteousness and wise in dharma, free from illness? Is Sumitra, the mother of Lakshmana and heroic Shatrughna, also well? And what of my own mother, Kaikeyi—ever self-willed, fierce, quick to anger and proud—what message does she send me?” The messengers replied with respectful words, assuring Bharata that all those for whom he wished well were indeed well, and that fortune and the favor of the lotus goddess were with him. Hearing this, Bharata resolved to depart at once. He informed the messengers that he would take leave of the great king, his maternal grandfather, as their words urged haste. Approaching his maternal grandfather, Bharata said, “O King, urged by the messengers, I must go to my father’s presence. I shall return whenever you remember me.” His grandfather embraced him affectionately and spoke auspicious words: “Go, dear child, I permit you. Kaikeyi is blessed to have a son like you. Convey my well-wishes to your mother and to your father, the supreme ascetic. Greet also the priest and all the excellent twice-born men, and your brothers Rama and Lakshmana, those mighty archers.” Honoring Bharata, his maternal uncle presented him with the best elephants, fine blankets, skins, and other wealth. The Kekaya king, too, gave two thousand gold coins and sixteen hundred horses as gifts. Trusted and virtuous ministers were assigned to Bharata as desired attendants, and his uncle gifted him elephants of the Airavata line, with Indra-like heads, as well as swift, well-harnessed mules. Dogs bred within the palace, endowed with tiger-like strength and power, armed with fangs and of great size, were also given as gifts. Having taken leave of his maternal grandfather and uncle, Bharata, victorious in battle, mounted his chariot with Shatrughna at his side and departed. Yet, as he left, a great anxiety gnawed at his heart, born of the urgency of the messengers and the troubling vision from his dream. Surrounded by men, elephants, and horses, Bharata left his residence and entered the splendid, unrivaled royal road. As he passed through, he beheld the inner city, and thus, the illustrious Bharata entered it unhindered. Having taken leave of his mother and his maternal uncle Yudhājit, Bharata, together with Shatrughna, ascended the chariot and set out. More than a hundred chariots with circular wheels were harnessed, and a retinue of servants followed Bharata, using camels, cattle, horses, and mules—as he began his fateful journey home, burdened by omens and the weight of destiny.