Rāma, the tiger among men, ascended and then descended from the auspicious sandals, and with a radiant and noble presence, handed them over to Bharata. Bharata, filled with reverence, bowed low before the sandals and spoke earnestly to Rāma: “For fourteen years, I will wear matted hair and garments of bark. O descendant of Raghu, I shall dwell outside the city, sustaining myself on fruits and roots, awaiting your return, O hero. Entrusting the rule of the kingdom to your sandals, O subduer of foes, I vow: when the fourteenth year is complete, O best of Raghu’s line, if I do not see you, I shall enter the fire.” Rāma agreed to Bharata’s words, and with deep affection, embraced him respectfully, and then embraced Shatrughna as well. He spoke gently to Bharata: “Protect your mother Kaikeyi; harbor no anger towards her. You are bound by an oath from me and from Sītā, O best of the Raghu lineage.” Having spoken thus, Rāma, his eyes brimming with tears, released his brother from his embrace. Then Bharata, powerful and righteous, worshipped the well-adorned sandals, circumambulated Rāghava, and placed the sandals reverently upon his own head. In due order, he greeted the people, the elders, the ministers, and his brothers, dismissing them with steadfast resolve, as immovable as the Himalaya themselves. The mothers, overwhelmed by sorrow, their throats choked with tears, could not speak to him; yet Bharata, after respectfully saluting all his mothers, entered his own hut, weeping. Thus concluded the one hundred and twelfth chapter of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the holy Rāmāyaṇa. Afterwards, Bharata, with the sandals placed upon his head, ascended his chariot, accompanied joyfully by Shatrughna. The revered sages Vasiṣṭha, Vāmadeva, and Jābāli, steadfast in their vows, along with all the honored ministers, proceeded ahead of him. Their procession moved eastward, toward the beautiful Mandākinī river, circumambulating the great mountain of Chitrakūṭa. As they journeyed, Bharata and his army beheld thousands of delightful minerals and wondrous sights along the way. Not far from Chitrakūṭa, Bharata came upon the hermitage where the sage Bharadvāja resided. Arriving there, the wise Bharata descended from his chariot and bowed humbly at the feet of the sage. Delighted, Bharadvāja addressed Bharata: “O dear one, has your task been accomplished, and have you met with Rāma?” Bharata, ever devoted to his brother, replied respectfully: “Though urged by his teacher and by me, steadfast and greatly pleased, Rāghava spoke to Vasiṣṭha, saying, ‘I will uphold my father’s promise exactly as it was made; for fourteen years, as my father vowed.’ Thus addressed, the wise Vasiṣṭha replied with skillful words, ‘Give these adorned golden sandals with joy, O wise one, for they will safeguard Ayodhya’s welfare under your care.’ So, Rāghava, facing east, mounted the sandals and entrusted them for my rule. Now, withdrawn and permitted by the great-souled Rāma, I return to Ayodhya, bearing these auspicious sandals.” Hearing these noble words, the sage Bharadvāja spoke even more auspiciously: “This is not surprising, O tiger among men, best among the noble; as water naturally flows into a hollow, so does virtue reside in you. Your father Daśaratha, mighty-armed, is like nectar, for you are such a son—knower of dharma and devoted to righteousness.” With joined palms, Bharata took leave of the great sage, touching his feet in reverence. After repeatedly circling Bharadvāja, the illustrious Bharata departed for Ayodhya with his ministers. The vast army, with chariots, wagons, horses, and elephants, followed Bharata on the return journey. They soon came upon the divine Yamunā river, adorned with waves, and again beheld the sacred Ganges, its waters pure and auspicious. Having crossed that lovely river with their companions, they entered the charming city of Śṛṅgibera with their troops. From there, they set their gaze once more upon Ayodhya. But as Bharata beheld Ayodhya, now bereft of both father and brother, he was overwhelmed by sorrow and spoke to his charioteer: “Look! Ayodhya is ruined, it does not shine; formless, joyless, distressed, its sounds suppressed.” Thus ended the one hundred and thirteenth chapter of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the venerable Rāmāyaṇa. With the deep, resonant sound of his chariot, the illustrious Bharata swiftly entered Ayodhya. He saw the city, now inhabited by owls and vultures, filled with elephants and men, yet shrouded in darkness—gloomy and dim as the night itself. Like the star Rohiṇī oppressed by the rising planet, he saw his beloved wife, radiant in her own splendor, yet afflicted by the approach of the enemy Rāhu.