As the gathering in the forest unfolded, a deep truth became clear to Rama: just as a person’s food shapes the deities who watch over him, so too do the circumstances of one’s life reflect the divine influences at play. The co-wives of Dasharatha, seeing Kausalya so stricken with grief, offered her comfort. Together, they gazed upon Rama in the hermitage, beholding him as if he were a god who had fallen from the heavens. The mothers, overcome with sorrow at the sight of Rama—who had given up all worldly pleasures—could not hold back their tears. Rama, steadfast and true to his word, rose and reverently touched the feet of each of his mothers. With gentle, tender hands, the women lovingly brushed the dust from Rama’s back, their wide eyes filled with affection and pain. Lakshmana, seeing the mothers so afflicted, followed his brother’s example. With deep respect, he greeted each of them in turn. The women’s love for Lakshmana, the auspicious son of Dasharatha, was as great as their love for Rama. Sita, too, sorrowful and weary, approached her mothers-in-law. With tears in her eyes, she bowed and touched their feet, standing humbly before them. Kausalya, embracing Sita as a mother would her own daughter, spoke to her with deep distress, seeing how emaciated and dejected Sita had become in the forest. “How has Sita, daughter of the king of Videha, daughter-in-law of Dasharatha, and wife of Rama, come to such suffering in this lonely forest?” Kausalya lamented. “Your face, once radiant, is now scorched like a lotus under the sun, withered like a waterlily, dulled like gold covered in dust, or the moon veiled by clouds. O Vaidehi, seeing your face burns me with grief, as fire consumes its fuel; sorrow, born of misfortune, torments my heart.” While his mother spoke these words, Rama, the elder brother of Bharata, approached the venerable sage Vasistha. With reverence, he touched the feet of the great priest, just as Indra would approach Brihaspati, and then sat down beside him. Bharata, devoted to righteousness, sat near his elder brother. He was accompanied by his ministers, the leading citizens, soldiers, and all those who knew the ways of dharma. With hands joined in reverence, Bharata gazed upon Rama, who shone with the brilliance of a sage—just as Indra would look upon Prajapati with devotion. The noble assembly was filled with curiosity, wondering what words Bharata would speak after bowing to Rama. In that assembly, Rama, ever steadfast in truth, Lakshmana of great prowess, and righteous Bharata—surrounded by their friends—shone like three sacred fires tended by their priests. Thus ended the one hundred and third sarga of the glorious Ayodhya Kanda in the ancient and revered Valmiki Ramayana. Then Rama, perceiving his brother’s devotion to their elders, began to question him, with Lakshmana by his side. “I wish to hear what you have spoken, and why you, wearing bark garments and matted hair, have come to this place. For what purpose have you, clad in black antelope skin and with matted locks, entered this forest, leaving the kingdom behind? You must tell me everything.” Thus addressed, Bharata—the great-souled son of Kaikeyi—joined his palms and, with great effort, spoke: “Our noble father, after performing a most difficult deed, has abandoned his life and gone to heaven, tormented by grief for his son. Urged by a woman, my mother Kaikeyi, he committed this great sin that destroyed his own honor. She, deprived of the fruits of the kingdom, widowed and consumed by sorrow, will fall into terrible hell. “Therefore, as your servant, I beg your favor: be consecrated as king today, just as Maghavan was anointed. All these citizens and widowed mothers who have come to you deserve your grace. O bestower of honor, accept the kingdom as is proper and righteous, and bring happiness to your friends. Let the earth, with you as her lord, no longer be widowed—just as the autumn night is brightened by the spotless moon. “Together with these ministers, I bow my head and entreat you. As your brother, disciple, and servant, you ought to show me your favor. O tiger among men, you should not transgress the eternal and ancestral order of rule, which has always been honored. Having spoken thus, I, the son of Kaikeyi, with tears in my eyes, again respectfully grasp your feet with my head, as is our custom.” Seeing his brother Bharata sighing again and again, like a maddened elephant, Rama embraced him and spoke gently: “You are noble-born, endowed with virtue, radiant, and steadfast in your vows. How could a person like you commit any wrong for the sake of the kingdom? I do not see even the slightest fault in you, O destroyer of foes, nor should you reproach your mother for her ignorance. “O most wise and blameless one, the will of elders is always to be followed, especially regarding suitable spouses and sons. Just as in the world, the virtuous count us as wives, sons, and disciples, so too should you understand yourself. Whether in the forest, wearing bark garments and black antelope skin, or in the kingdom as a great king, it is for him—the father—to decide where I should dwell. As long as there is respect for the righteous father, honored by the world, so too, O best of the righteous, should there be respect for the mother.