After ten days had passed and the period of purification was complete, the king’s son, Bharata, on the twelfth day, performed the funeral rites for his departed father. In honor of the occasion and as part of the sacred rituals, he gave to the Brāhmaṇas abundant gifts—jewels, wealth, and food, along with costly garments and precious stones of many kinds. He further bestowed upon them numerous white blankets, hundreds of cows, male and female servants, vehicles, and grand houses. All these offerings were made with devotion to the Brāhmaṇas for the sake of his father’s funeral rites. When the thirteenth day dawned, Bharata, mighty-armed but overwhelmed by sorrow, approached for the final purification. Grief constricted his throat, and at the foot of the pyre, deeply afflicted, he spoke to his father’s remains: “When you entrusted me to Rāghava, who has now gone to the forest, you abandoned me, just as a son is left behind when his protector departs for the wilderness. O beloved father, having abandoned your queen Kausalya, where have you gone? O king, seeing this reddish ash and the circle of burnt bones—” As Bharata gazed upon the remains and realized his father’s body was no more, he wailed in anguish and fell, overcome with grief, to the ground. In his despair, he resembled the fallen banner of Indra’s chariot. The ministers, steadfast and pure, came quickly to his side. Shatrughna, witnessing Bharata’s sorrow, was reminded of the sages who saw Yayati fallen at the end of his life. Overwhelmed, Shatrughna too lost consciousness and collapsed, senseless with grief. Both brothers, recalling again and again the virtues and noble qualities of their father, were seized by the fierce sorrow brought about by the machinations of Manthara and the grip of Queen Kaikeyi. The ocean of grief, unfathomable and born from the granting of boons, submerged them both. Shatrughna, who had always been cherished and protected, lamented: “O father, having abandoned Bharata, who now grieves and laments, where have you gone? Was it not you who provided us with food, drink, clothing, and ornaments? You cared for us in all things—who will do so now? Yet, even at this moment of separation, the earth does not split apart beneath us.” He continued, “Deprived of you, O king, knower of righteousness and great-souled, with our father gone to heaven and Rāma dwelling in the forest—what purpose does my life serve? I will enter the fire as an offering, bereft of both brother and father, in the empty city ruled by the Ikshvakus. I will not enter Ayodhya; I will go to the ascetic forest.” Hearing their lamentation and seeing their distress, all those who had followed them became even more afflicted. Exhausted and despondent, both Bharata and Shatrughna lay upon the ground, writhing like two bulls with broken horns. Then, the wise and proper priest Vasishtha approached and, raising Bharata, spoke gently: “O illustrious one, this is the thirteenth day since your father’s passing. With only the bones remaining, why do you delay here? Among all beings, three pairs of opposites inevitably arise. In these unavoidable matters, it should not be thus.” Sumantra, too, lifted Shatrughna and comforted him. The wise Sumantra spoke to both brothers, reminding them of the truth of the coming and going of all beings. Revived by these words, the two brothers, tiger-like in their strength, rose up and shone with their innate glory. Though drenched by rain and scorched by the sun, they stood like two separate banners of Indra. Wiping away their tears, their eyes red, they spoke in voices heavy with sorrow. Now, hear the seventy-eighth chapter in the Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. As Bharata, tormented by grief, was preparing for the journey, Shatrughna, Lakṣmaṇa’s younger brother, addressed him: “He who is the refuge of all beings—what suffering must he not feel himself? That Rāma, endowed with virtue, has been exiled to the forest by a woman. And Lakṣmaṇa, strong and valiant—why did he not free Rāma, even if it meant restraining our father? Our father, having fallen under the sway of a woman and straying from the path of righteousness, should have been restrained earlier, recognizing both right and wrong.” As Shatrughna spoke thus, Kubjā, adorned with all her ornaments, appeared at the eastern gate. She was smeared with fine sandalwood paste, dressed in royal garments, and adorned with many kinds of ornaments, shining brightly. With jeweled girdles and many cords, she looked like a monkey bound with ropes. The doorkeeper, recognizing her as the perpetrator of evil, seized the pitiless Kubjā and brought her before Shatrughna. “Because of her, Rāma was sent to the forest and your father gave up his life; here is that wicked and cruel woman—do with her as you see fit.” Hearing these words, Shatrughna, deeply distressed but firm in his resolve, addressed all the attendants of the inner palace: “By whom such intense suffering was caused to my brothers and my father, let her now reap the fruit of her cruel deed.” Thus commanded, Kubjā, surrounded by her companions, was quickly seized with force and wailed as she was dragged to that house. Seeing Shatrughna’s anger, all her companions, greatly distressed, fled in every direction.