Rāma was questioned with profound care about the duties and conduct befitting a noble king. “Do you show respect,” he was asked, “to teachers, elders, ascetics, deities, guests, all sacred shrines, the accomplished, and the Brāhmaṇas?” The inquiry continued, probing whether Rāma used his wealth to support righteousness and, in turn, allowed righteousness to nurture wealth—ensuring that neither was harmed out of desire or greed. Rāma was further asked if, knowing the right time, he served wealth, righteousness, and pleasure, dividing them wisely according to circumstance. “Do the Brāhmaṇas, skilled in the meaning of all the scriptures, wish you well, O greatly wise one, along with the citizens and country folk?” The questions pressed deeper: Did Rāma avoid atheism, falsehood, anger, carelessness, procrastination, disregard for the wise, laziness, and fickleness of mind? He was urged to shun solitary deliberation, consulting only with those ignorant of misfortune, failing to act on decisions, and neglecting the protection of counsel. Rāma was reminded to avoid the fourteen royal faults, such as neglecting auspicious acts and failing to rise to occasions. The examination continued: “O Rāghava, do you truly understand the ten, five, four, seven, eight, and three groups, as well as the three branches of knowledge? Having mastered your senses, do you know the sixfold policy, the divine and human factors, the twenty types of duties, and the circle of subjects? Do you, O greatly wise one, properly approve of military expeditions, punishment, the two kinds of birth, alliances and hostilities? Do you consult with ministers as prescribed—either with four or three, or with all together or separately?” Rāma was asked if his studies of the Vedas, his rituals, his marriages, and his learning were fruitful. “Is your understanding, O Rāghava, as I have described—conducive to long life, fame, and the pursuit of righteousness, desire, and wealth? Do you follow the conduct of your father and our ancestors, which leads to the good and righteous path? Do you avoid eating delicious food alone, and share it with friends who desire it?” It was declared that a wise king, having governed his people with justice and upheld the law, having rightfully attained the entire earth, departs to heaven when his time comes. Thus ended the hundredth sarga in the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the ancient and revered Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Upon hearing Rāma’s words, Bharata replied with sorrow: “What use is kingship to me, deprived as I am of righteousness? This is the eternal law among us, O best of men: when the eldest son is present, the younger cannot become king. Go, Rāghava, together with me to prosperous Ayodhyā, and be consecrated for the good of our lineage. “They call a king a mortal man, but to me he is divine, whose conduct is guided by righteousness and wealth, though he is human. While I remained in Kekaya and you had gone to the forest, our noble father, esteemed among the virtuous, ascended to heaven. As soon as you and Lakṣmaṇa departed, the king, overwhelmed by grief and sorrow, reached the heavenly world. “Rise up, O tiger among men, and perform the water-rite for our father; I and Śatrughna have already offered water before. Indeed, it is said that water offered with love to the ancestors becomes imperishable in their world; and you, Rāghava, are dear to our father. He grieved only for you, longing to see you, his mind fixed on you alone; deprived of you, sick with sorrow for you, remembering you, your father passed away.” Thus ended the one hundred and first sarga in the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the ancient and revered Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Hearing Bharata’s sorrowful speech, which revealed the death of their father, Rāma was overcome with grief and lost consciousness. Bharata’s words struck Rāma like a thunderbolt, felling the mighty prince. Rāma collapsed, his arms grasped, falling to the ground like a tree with blossoming branches cut down by an axe in the forest. Lying there, Rāma resembled a great elephant, exhausted on the riverbank, fast asleep. His brothers, great archers, together with Sītā, wept and sprinkled water on him, worn down by grief. Regaining consciousness, tears streaming from his eyes, the son of Kakutstha began to speak many pitiful words. Upon hearing that his father, the lord of the earth, had passed away, the righteous Rāma spoke to Bharata in accordance with dharma: “Now that my father has gone to the destined path, what shall I do in Ayodhyā? Who will govern Ayodhyā, which depended on that foremost of kings? What duty remains for me, who am of difficult birth, toward that great-souled one who died from grief over me and whom I could not even perform the funeral rites for? “Ah, Bharata, you are truly fortunate, for the king was duly honored in all the funeral rites by you, blameless one, and by Śatrughna. Even after completing my forest exile, I do not have the heart to return to Ayodhyā, which, deprived of its sovereign, has become leaderless and distracted. O subduer of foes, even if I complete my exile, who will rule Ayodhyā again now that my father has departed to the other world? Once, when my father saw me behaving well, he would speak gentle words to comfort me—how will I ever again hear those pleasing words?” Thus ended the one hundred and second sarga in the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the ancient and revered Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa.