When Bharata arrived at the hermitage of the sage Bharadvāja, the sage looked upon him and, with concern, asked, “Surely, you do not wish to wrong that innocent one—your elder brother Rama—simply to enjoy the kingdom without obstacles, together with your younger brother?” These words, heavy with meaning, pierced Bharata’s heart. Overcome with sorrow, his eyes filled with tears and his voice trembled as he replied, “If even you, revered one, think of me in this way, then I am truly ruined. Please do not suspect any fault in me, nor speak to me thus. The words spoken by my mother in my absence were not my wish; I do not approve of them, nor do I accept them. I have come here seeking the favor of that tiger among men, Rama, to bring him back to Ayodhya and to bow at his feet.” He continued, “Please, out of kindness, consider my situation and tell me, revered one—where is Rama, the lord of the earth, now?” At this, Bharadvāja, encouraged by Vasiṣṭha and the assembled priests, addressed Bharata with gentle words: “O tiger among men, descendant of Raghu, this conduct befits you—reverence for elders, self-restraint, and the pursuit of virtue. I know these qualities are firmly established in your heart. I questioned you so only to increase your renown. I know that Rama, knower of righteousness, is with Sita and Lakṣmaṇa; your brother dwells upon the great mountain Citrakūṭa. Tomorrow, after resting here with your counselors, you will go to that place. Fulfill this wish of mine, O wise one, skilled in fulfilling desires.” Reassured and noble in bearing, Bharata replied, “So be it,” and resolved to spend the night in the sage’s hermitage. Thus ended the ninetieth chapter of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the sacred Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. As the next chapter began, the sage, having decided to host Bharata, invited him as a guest. But Bharata, ever humble, said, “Surely, you have already performed all that is proper—washing of the feet, offerings, and hospitality—as is fitting in the forest.” Bharadvāja smiled and replied, “I know your heart is filled with affection, and you are pleased with any gesture. Yet, I wish to provide food for your army—my affection is as it should be, and you are worthy, O lord of men. But why have you left your forces at a distance and come here? Why did you not approach with your entire army, O best of men?” With joined palms, Bharata answered, “Out of fear of you, revered one, I did not bring my army here. Whether by the king or the prince, ascetics must always be carefully protected from harm within the realm. The foremost horses, men, and noble elephants, intoxicated with their strength, follow me, covering the earth. I did not wish them to harm the trees, water, land, huts, or anything in the hermitages, so I came here alone.” Hearing this, the eminent sage commanded, “Bring the army here.” Bharata then arranged for his entire force to approach. Entering the fire-hall, Bharadvāja drank water and purified himself. Intent on hospitality, he summoned Viśvakarman and Tvaṣṭṛ, declaring, “I wish to perform hospitality—let this be arranged for me here.” He also invoked the three guardians of the worlds and the gods led by Śakra, wishing for their presence. He called forth all rivers—those flowing eastward and westward, on earth and in the sky—to come that day in every way. He wished some rivers to flow with mead, others with well-prepared wine, and others with cold water as sweet as sugarcane juice. The sage summoned the divine Gandharvas—Viśvāvasu, Haha, and Hūhū—and all the Apsarases and Gandharvīs: Ghṛtācī, Viśvācī, Miśrakeśī, Alambusā, Nāgadantā, Hemā, and Himā, born on mountain slopes. He called for all the women who attend Śakra and Brahmā, together with Tumburu and their attendants. He wished for the divine forest of the Kurus, with its garments, ornaments, leaves, and Kubera’s eternal divine fruits, to be present. He invoked Soma to provide excellent food—various dishes to eat, enjoy, suck, and lick, in abundance. He asked for diverse garlands, drinks such as divine liquor, and all varieties of meat. Thus, endowed with concentration, incomparable brilliance, and mastery of recitation, the sage spoke through the power of his austerities. As he meditated, facing east with hands joined in reverence, all the deities he had called appeared, each in their own way. A gentle, auspicious wind blew, carrying away all weariness. The breezes from the Malaya and Dardura mountains touched the assembly, bringing comfort to the soul. Celestial clouds gathered, and showers of flowers fell from the sky. The sound of divine drums resounded in all directions. The finest winds blew, and the hosts of Apsarases danced. The gods and Gandharvas sang and played their vīṇās, releasing melodious notes. The music filled the sky and earth, entering the ears of all living beings—clear, gentle, and perfectly harmonious.