In the palace of Ayodhyā, grief hung heavy in the air. Kausalya, the noble queen, having lost both her husband and her beloved son Rāma to exile, sought solace amidst her sorrow. Her heart, filled with anguish, poured forth a series of dire imprecations upon the one by whose consent the noble Rāma had departed. She wished upon him a fate most wretched: let him wander the earth with a skull in hand, clad in rags, begging like a madman; let him become addicted to drink, women, and gambling, forever enslaved by desire and anger; let his mind turn toward righteousness yet practice unrighteousness, giving charity to the unworthy. She invoked further calamities: may all his wealth, amassed in countless ways, be plundered by robbers; may every sin ascribed to those who sleep through both twilights fall upon him; may he incur the sins of neglecting sacred fires, violating the teacher’s bed, and betraying friends. Let him never serve the gods, ancestors, mother, or father, and swiftly fall from the world of the virtuous, losing their fame and righteous deeds. Kausalya’s lament continued: let him abandon service to his mother and stand for no purpose; though blessed with many sons, may he be poor, afflicted with fever and disease, always suffering; may he make false promises to equals, the distressed, the hopeful, and supplicants; may he delight in deceit, be harsh, slanderous, impure, fearful of the king, and unrighteous in soul. Let him transgress against a virtuous wife at the proper time, abandon his lawful wife for others, and turn his mind away from righteousness. May he incur the sin of a Brahmin whose lineage is lost, pollute water or give poison, hinder worship intended for a Brahmin, or milk a cow meant for a calf. May he deceive the thirsty when water is available, join himself to the sins of those sincerely seeking the right path, and be burdened by all these misfortunes. Overwhelmed by grief, Kausalya, deprived of husband and son, tried to console herself but collapsed. Bharata, her son, tormented and insensible with sorrow, uttered these harsh oaths, and Kausalya spoke to him: “My suffering only increases, dear child, for as you swear these oaths, you take away my very life. Yet, by good fortune, your soul, together with Lakshmana, has not turned away from righteousness. Steadfast in your promise, you shall attain the worlds of the virtuous.” Having spoken thus, Kausalya took Bharata, who cherished his brothers, onto her lap, embraced his mighty arms, and wept, overwhelmed by grief. Bharata, great-souled and distressed, became agitated, his mind clouded by delusion and sorrow. Comforted yet senseless, his wisdom lost, he lay on the ground, sighing deeply again and again as the night passed in grief. As dawn broke, the next sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa, began. Vasiṣṭha, the foremost among sages and best among speakers, approached Bharata, son of Kekayī, who was tormented by grief. Vasiṣṭha spoke gently: “Enough of sorrow, noble prince of great fame; now is the proper time—perform the final rites for the king.” Hearing Vasiṣṭha’s words, Bharata regained his composure. Knowing what was right, he arranged for all the funeral rites. The king, Daśaratha, was removed from the oil bath and placed on the ground, his face drained of color, lying as if asleep. Bharata, overwhelmed by sorrow, lamented as Daśaratha was laid upon a splendid couch adorned with jewels. “O king,” Bharata cried, “what did you resolve, exiling righteous Rāma and mighty Lakṣmaṇa, while I was away and had not yet returned? Where will you go, leaving behind these sorrowful people, deprived of Rāma, the lion among men, whose deeds are blameless? Who will ensure your city’s welfare and security now, when you have departed to heaven and Rāma has gone to the forest? The earth, bereft of you, shines not, like a night without the moon; the city appears to me the same.” Seeing Bharata’s mind cast down, Vasiṣṭha spoke again: “Whatever funeral rites must be performed for this lord of men, let them be done promptly, mighty-armed one, without hesitation.” “So be it,” Bharata replied, honoring Vasiṣṭha’s counsel. He quickly summoned all the priests, family chaplains, and teachers. Those who had been stationed outside the fire-chamber of the lord of men were led away by the officiating priests and sacrificers, according to proper rites, to fulfill the final duties for the departed king. Thus, amidst sorrow and duty, the royal family and their counselors began the sacred rituals, honoring Daśaratha and seeking solace in righteousness.