With a great and resounding clamor, the elephant maidens and mighty elephants—adorned with golden trappings and fluttering banners—set forth, their presence like thunderclouds at summer’s end. Alongside them, all manner of vehicles, both grand and modest, rolled out in procession, while the esteemed foot soldiers marched on foot, steadfast and proud. Amidst this grand departure, the women of the royal household, led by the noble Kausalya and eager to behold Rama, joyfully left in their covered carriages. Bharata himself, radiant and surrounded by his devoted retinue, journeyed in a splendid palanquin, its brilliance likened to the moon, the sun, and the dawn combined. The vast army, teeming with elephants, horses, and chariots, advanced southward, spreading out like a massive, rising cloud across the land. Their route took them through forests alive with deer and birds, over rivers and mountains, until at last they reached the distant banks of the sacred Ganga. As Bharata’s army pressed on, filled with jubilant priests, swift horses, and valiant warriors, their progress through the great forest startled flocks of deer and birds. The army shone brilliantly amidst the wilds, a sight both awe-inspiring and beautiful. Thus concluded a chapter in the illustrious Ayodhya Kanda of the ancient Ramayana, composed by the sage Valmiki. As the army, adorned with banners, pressed onward, the wild elephants, frightened by the commotion, fled with their herds. In the forest groves, and upon the mountains and riverbanks, bears, herds of spotted deer, and graceful antelopes appeared, glimpsed by the travelers. Bharata, the righteous son of Dasharatha, pleased and resolute, continued his journey, surrounded by his mighty fourfold army. The host was so vast and powerful, it resembled the surging waves of the ocean, blanketing the earth like rain clouds covering the sky in the monsoon season. From the signs around them, it was clear that much time had passed on this long journey. At last, weary from the distance and with vehicles grown fatigued, the illustrious Bharata turned to Vasistha, foremost among counselors, and spoke: “From what I see and have heard, we have reached the place Bharadvaja described. Here stands Mount Chitrakuta, here flows the Mandakini river, and from afar the forest appears, dark as a rain cloud.” He pointed out the delightful slopes of Chitrakuta, now trampled by his elephants, themselves as mighty as mountains. The trees on the hillsides shed their blossoms, just as rain clouds release their waters when the heat subsides. “Look, Shatrughna,” Bharata said, “at this mountain region, frequented by Kinnaras, and surrounded everywhere by deer, like the ocean is by makaras. See how the herds of deer, swift and urged onward, shine like rows of clouds scattered across the autumn sky by the wind. They wear fragrant garlands of flowers upon their heads, just as people in the south adorn themselves with shining fruit that resemble clouds.” He gazed around with wonder. “This forest, once silent and fearsome, now seems as crowded as Ayodhya itself. Dust rises from the hooves of our army, covering the sky, and the wind carries it swiftly, as if to favor me. See, Shatrughna, the chariots drawn by noble horses and driven by skilled charioteers, speeding through the forest. Look at the frightened, beautiful peacocks quickly seeking shelter among the trees.” Bharata’s heart was moved by the charm of the place. “This spot is exceedingly delightful; it must be the dwelling of ascetics, like the very path to heaven. Many deer, with their mates, are seen in the forest, beautiful and adorned as if with flowers. Let the noble troops search the forest, so that we may find those two tiger-like men, Rama and Lakshmana.” At Bharata’s command, the warriors, weapons in hand, entered the forest and soon saw smoke rising in the distance. “Fire does not occur where there are no people,” they said to Bharata. “Surely the Raghavas are here.” And if not Rama and Lakshmana, then perhaps ascetics who resemble them must dwell in this place. Hearing their words, which all approved, Bharata, destroyer of enemy forces, addressed his entire army: “Let all of you remain here; none should go ahead. I alone will proceed, along with Sumantra and our revered teacher.” The army halted as instructed, while Bharata fixed his gaze upon the rising smoke. The soldiers, stationed by Bharata and watching even the smoke ahead, were filled with joy, for they knew that a meeting with their beloved Rama was near at hand. Thus ended another sacred chapter of the glorious Ayodhya Kanda in the venerable Ramayana of Valmiki. Meanwhile, Rama, having long dwelled on that beloved mountain amidst the forests and hills, remained there with his thoughts captivated by the enchanting Vaidehī. In that tranquil haven, he showed the wondrous Chitrakuta to Sita, as Indra might show the city of the gods to Shachi. “O gentle one,” Rama said to her, “the loss of the kingdom or separation from friends does not trouble my mind when I behold this delightful mountain. Look, O gentle one, at this mountain adorned with flocks of many-colored birds. Its peaks pierce the sky, and it is decorated with shining minerals.” Thus, amidst nature’s beauty and the love of his wife, Rama found solace, even as Bharata and the great army drew near, their hearts filled with hope and longing for reunion.