Rama was asked, “Do you seek counsel with your ministers as is proper, sometimes with four, sometimes with three, or perhaps all together or each separately? Are your studies of the Vedas fruitful, your rituals successful, your marriages auspicious, your learning bearing good results? Is your understanding, O Raghava, as I have described—one that leads to a long life, to fame, and to the pursuit of righteousness, desire, and wealth? Do you follow the conduct observed by your father and ancestors, the path that leads to goodness and righteousness? And, O Raghava, do you refrain from eating delicious food alone, sharing it instead with friends who desire it? For the wise king, who governs his people with justice and upholds the law, who rightfully attains the earth, departs to heaven when his time comes, his duty fulfilled.” Thus ended the hundredth sarga in the glorious Ayodhya Kanda of the ancient and revered Valmiki Ramayana. Hearing these words, Bharata replied to Rama, “What use is kingship to me, when I am deprived of righteousness? This is the eternal law among us, O best of men: when the eldest son is present, the younger cannot become king. Come with me, Raghava, to prosperous Ayodhya and be consecrated for the good of our lineage. They may call a king a mortal man, but to me, he is divine when his conduct is guided by righteousness and wealth, though he is human. While I remained in Kekaya and you went to the forest, our noble father, esteemed among the virtuous, ascended to heaven. As soon as you and Lakshmana 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 Shatrughna have already offered water before. It is said that water offered with love to the ancestors becomes imperishable in their world, and you, Raghava, 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, our father passed away.” Thus ended the one hundred and first sarga in the glorious Ayodhya Kanda of the ancient and revered Valmiki Ramayana. When Rama heard these sorrowful words from Bharata, which told of his father’s death, he was overcome and lost consciousness. Bharata’s words, as harsh as a thunderbolt hurled by the enemy of the Danavas in battle, struck down mighty Rama. Grasping his arms, Rama fell to the ground like a tree with blossoming branches felled in the forest by an axe. Thus fallen, the lord of the world lay on the earth like a great elephant, exhausted on the riverbank, fast asleep. His brothers, great archers all, worn down by grief, wept with Sita and sprinkled him with water. Regaining consciousness, tears streaming from his eyes, the son of Kakutstha began to speak many pitiful words. When Rama heard that his father, the lord of the earth, had passed away, that righteous one spoke words in accordance with dharma to Bharata: “Now that my father has gone to the destined path, what shall I do in Ayodhya? Who will govern Ayodhya, 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 for whom I could not even perform the funeral rites? Ah, Bharata, you are truly fortunate, for the king was duly honored in all the funeral rites by you, blameless one, and by Shatrughna. Even after completing my forest exile, I do not have the heart to return to Ayodhya, which, deprived of its sovereign, has become leaderless and distracted. O subduer of foes, even if I complete my exile, who will rule Ayodhya 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?” Having spoken thus to Bharata, Raghava approached his wife, whose face was like the full moon, and addressed her, tormented by grief: “Sita, your father-in-law has died; you are bereft of a father, Lakshmana. Bharata sorrowfully tells us the king has gone to heaven.” As Kakutstha spoke in this way, abundant tears welled up in the eyes of the illustrious princes. Then all the brothers, greatly consoling Raghava, said, “Let the water-rite be performed for our father, the lord of the earth.” When Sita heard that her father-in-law, the king, had gone to the heavenly realms, her eyes filled with tears and she was unable to look at her husband. Then Rama, after consoling Janaka’s daughter as she wept, spoke to Lakshmana there, himself sorrowful, to his sorrowful brother: “Bring me a cake of ingudi flour and fetch an upper garment of bark; I will go to perform the water-rite for my great-souled father. Let Sita go ahead, and you walk beside her; I will follow behind, for this path is exceedingly harsh.” Then Lakshmana, Sumitra’s son, ever devoted to them, self-controlled, gentle, peaceful, and firm in his devotion to Rama, who understood himself and was of great wisdom, along with Sumantara and the princes, comforted Raghava and helped him descend to the auspicious Mandakini river.