Bharata, his heart heavy with grief, lamented the absence of his father. He recalled with longing the gentle hand of his father, King Dasharatha, whose pure actions and loving touch would so often wipe dust away from him. Now, that hand was lost to him forever. Turning to his mother, Bharata’s anguish deepened as he spoke of Rama, the brother who was like a father and friend to him, and to whom he was devoted as a servant. He implored her, “Tell me quickly, O wise one, of Rama, whose actions are flawless.” For Bharata knew that among the righteous, the eldest brother becomes as a father, and he yearned to take refuge at Rama’s feet. He asked further, “O noble lady, what message did my father, the true and valiant king, leave for Rama, who is steadfast in righteousness, truth, and duty?” Bharata longed to hear his father’s final words, and thus Kaikeyi, his mother, began to speak truthfully. With sorrow, she recounted, “Calling out ‘Rama! O Sita! O Lakshmana!’ your father departed from this world, ascending to the highest realm, foremost among those who have passed.” She described how Dasharatha, bound by time and fate like a mighty elephant, uttered his last words: “Those whose wishes are fulfilled will see Rama return with Sita, and Lakshmana, mighty-armed, come back again.” Hearing this, Bharata was struck by a second wave of pain; his face fell, and he questioned his mother once more. “Where now is that righteous one, the joy of Kausalya, who left with Lakshmana and Sita?” he asked. Kaikeyi, though fearing her words would pain him, spoke the truth: “That prince, my son, wearing garments of bark, has gone to the great Dandaka forest, accompanied by Vaidehi and attended by Lakshmana.” Alarmed by this, Bharata suspected some terrible wrongdoing and questioned further, doubting whether Rama could have committed any sin. “Surely Rama has not slain a Brahmin, nor seized another’s wealth, nor harmed the innocent? Surely he has not coveted another’s wife? For what reason, as if guilty of the gravest sin, has he been exiled to the Dandaka forest?” Kaikeyi, her heart swayed by her own desires, responded plainly to Bharata’s questions. She assured him, “No wealth belonging to a Brahmin has been taken by Rama, nor has he harmed any innocent rich or poor. Rama has not even looked upon another’s wife. But, my son, when I heard of Rama’s intended consecration, I asked your father for the kingdom for you and for Rama’s exile. Your father, true to his word, did as I asked. Thus, Rama, with Saumitri and Sita, was sent away, and the great king, unable to bear the separation, passed away, overwhelmed by grief.” Kaikeyi then urged Bharata, “Now, O righteous one, you must assume the kingship. All this was done for your sake. Do not grieve—take refuge in courage. The city and kingdom are yours, unharmed. Therefore, gather the Brahmins and sages led by Vasistha, and with a steadfast heart, consecrate yourself as king.” Hearing all this—the loss of his father and the exile of his beloved brothers—Bharata was tormented by sorrow. He cried out, “What use is the kingdom to me now, grieving and bereft of my father and my brother who was like a father to me? You, my mother, have deepened my wounds, bringing ruin upon our family. My father, steadfast in truth, did not see your true nature and was consumed by grief, losing his life. Because of you, happiness has vanished from our house.” He continued, “My father, devoted to righteousness, has perished. Why was Rama exiled? For what fault did he go to the forest? How have Kausalya and Sumitra, overwhelmed by grief for their sons, survived after encountering you? Rama, noble and righteous, always honored you as a son should his mother, and Kausalya, too, treated you with the respect due a sister. How can you not grieve after sending away your blameless, heroic son to the forest?” Bharata’s pain sharpened as he accused her, “You have exiled one who is self-controlled and renowned, and for what reason? Your greed for the kingdom has brought about this catastrophe. Deprived of Rama and Lakshmana, how can I hope to protect this kingdom? The mighty king always relied on Rama, just as Mount Meru depends on its forests.” Thus, Bharata’s heart overflowed with sorrow and reproach, mourning his father’s death, Rama’s exile, and the ruin brought upon his house by his mother’s actions.