As the assembly gathered, there was a call for treasures and jewels to be brought from every corner of the realm—from the north, the west, the pure southerners, and even those dwelling at the distant ocean-bound frontiers. Yet, when Bharata heard these words, he was overcome by grief. His heart, ever inclined toward righteousness, turned to thoughts of Rama, longing for what was right and just. In the midst of the assembly, Bharata’s voice trembled, soft as the call of a young swan, choked with tears. He lamented openly, reproaching the chief priest for the injustice before them. “Who would take the kingdom from one such as Rama?” he cried. “Rama, devoted to discipline, learned, wise, ever striving in righteousness—is it someone like me who should claim the throne?” Bharata questioned how any son of Dasharatha could become a usurper. “Both the kingdom and I belong to Rama,” he declared. “It is your duty to speak what is right.” He praised Rama as the eldest and best, righteous in soul, equal to the illustrious kings Dilipa and Nahusha, deserving the kingdom just as Dasharatha did. “If I were to commit such a sinful act, unworthy of the noble, leading to no heaven, I would be a disgrace to the Ikshvaku line.” He voiced his disapproval of his mother’s actions, standing before the assembly with joined palms, bowing to Rama though his brother dwelled in the remote forest. “I will follow only Rama, who is king and best among men; Raghava deserves the kingdom of all three worlds.” Hearing Bharata’s words, filled with righteousness, all those present shed tears of joy, their hearts united in devotion to Rama. Bharata vowed, “If I am unable to bring my noble brother back from the forest, I will remain there myself, just as Lakshmana does. I will use every means to bring him back, in the presence of elders, the virtuous, and those devoted to good conduct.” He informed the assembly that carpenters, road-clearers, and guards had already been sent ahead, and the journey itself pleased him. Having spoken thus, the righteous Bharata, ever devoted to his brother, turned to Sumantra, the wise counselor, standing nearby. “Rise quickly and go, Sumantra, at my command. Immediately order the march and assemble the army.” Sumantra, delighted by Bharata’s instructions, carried out all the orders exactly as desired. The command to march and bring back Raghava filled the citizens, army commanders, and troops with joy. In every household, the wives of warriors urged their husbands to prepare for the journey. With swift horses, ox-carts, and fast-moving chariots, the commanders and warriors mobilized the entire force. Seeing the army ready, Bharata said to Sumantra, “Hasten my chariot.” Sumantra, joyful, brought forth the chariot yoked with excellent horses and set out. Bharata, wishing to appease his illustrious elder gone to the great forest, spoke again, “Rise quickly, Sumantra, go to the chiefs of the army for its assembly; for I wish to bring back Rama, who dwells in the forest, for the welfare of the world.” Sumantra, fully satisfied by Bharata’s proper command, ordered all the chief citizens, army leaders, and his friends. In every household, people of all varnas—kṣatriyas, vaiśyas, śūdras, and brāhmaṇas—yoked camels, chariots, mules, elephants, and horses bred in noble families, preparing for the journey. Thus began the eighty-third sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. Rising early, Bharata mounted his excellent chariot and set out swiftly, longing to see Rama. His ministers and priests went before him, riding chariots yoked with horses, shining like the chariot of the sun. Nine thousand well-prepared elephants followed Bharata, the delight of the Ikṣvāku line. Sixty thousand chariots, with archers bearing various weapons, joined the procession. A hundred thousand horses, mounted and ready, followed as well. Kaikeyī, Sumitrā, and the illustrious Kausalyā, delighted at the prospect of bringing Rama back, traveled in shining vehicles. Noble assemblies set out together to see Rama and Lakshmana, their hearts delighted, engaging in lively conversations about them. “When shall we see Rama, dark as a rain cloud, mighty-armed, steadfast in spirit, firm in his vows, the remover of the world’s sorrow?” they wondered. “Just by seeing him, Raghava will dispel our grief, like the rising sun driving away the darkness of the world.” Thus, speaking among themselves, joyful and sharing auspicious words, the citizens embraced one another and departed. All others present, both the esteemed and the townsfolk, joyfully set out toward Rama, united in purpose. Among them were jewel-workers, skilled potters, weavers, and those who made their living by weapons; makers of peacock ornaments, sawyers, carvers, piercers, ivory workers, plasterers, and those who lived by perfumes; renowned goldsmiths, blanket washers, bath attendants, clothers, physicians, incense makers, and distillers—all joined the great march, eager to see Rama and bring him home.