As Sītā recounted her story, she spoke of a time when she was a young girl, covered in dust and intent on scattering clods of earth. It was then that King Janaka, her father, saw her and was filled with astonishment at the sight. Though he was childless, moved by deep affection, he lifted her onto his lap and declared, “This is my daughter,” pouring out his love upon her. In that very moment, a wondrous voice, not of this world but resounding from the sky, affirmed his words: “So it is, O king; by righteousness, she is your daughter.” Overjoyed at this divine confirmation, Janaka, the righteous ruler of Mithilā, felt his heart swell with happiness, and from that day, great prosperity came to him. Janaka entrusted Sītā to the care of his noble queen, an elder goddess among women, who was renowned for her virtuous deeds. Through her affection and maternal kindness, Sītā was cherished and honored as a beloved daughter. As the years passed and Sītā reached the age when a maiden is ready for marriage, her father became troubled. He worried over his dwindling wealth and other hardships, but above all, he was anxious about finding a worthy husband for his daughter. For in this world, the father of a maiden—no matter how mighty, even if he were Indra himself—suffers dishonor if his daughter is not properly wed. Seeing the shadow of dishonor drawing near, King Janaka’s anxiety grew, and he felt as if he were a swimmer unable to reach the shore. Knowing that Sītā was not born from a woman, he searched among the kings for a suitable match, but none seemed worthy or fitting. After much thought, the wise king resolved to arrange a svayaṃvara, a self-choice ceremony, for his daughter. At a great sacrifice performed by Janaka, the mighty Varuṇa was pleased and gifted him a splendid bow along with inexhaustible quivers. This bow was so heavy that no man could move it, no matter how much effort he exerted. Not even in their dreams could the assembled kings hope to bend it. Having received this divine bow, Janaka, ever true to his word, declared before all the kings: “Whoever, raising this bow, strings it, shall have my daughter as his wife—there is no doubt.” But when the kings beheld the massive bow, as formidable as a mountain, they honored it and then departed, unable to lift it. Many years passed, until one day, the radiant Rāghava—Rāma—arrived at the sacrifice, accompanied by the sage Viśvāmitra and his steadfast brother Lakṣmaṇa. Viśvāmitra, honored by Janaka, spoke to the king about the two brothers, saying, “These sons of Daśaratha wish to see the bow; show it to Rāma, the prince.” At the sage’s request, Janaka brought forth the bow. In the blink of an eye, the valiant Rāma bent it, and with swift strength, he strung it. As he drew the bow with all his might, it broke in the middle with a thunderous sound, terrifying like a bolt from the heavens. True to his promise, Janaka resolved to give Sītā to Rāma, and he raised the auspicious vessel of water to sanctify the gift. Yet Rāma did not accept immediately, for he did not know the wishes of his father, King Daśaratha of Ayodhyā. Only after Daśaratha gave his blessing did Janaka give his daughter Sītā to Rāma, who is wise and self-knowing. Likewise, the lovely Urmilā, Sītā’s virtuous younger sister, was given by Janaka as wife to Lakṣmaṇa. Thus, Sītā was joined to Rāma at the svayaṃvara, and from that day she devoted herself in righteousness to her husband, the best among the strong. Here ends the one hundred eighteenth sarga of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the ancient and noble Rāmāyaṇa composed by Vālmīki. After hearing this moving tale, the venerable Anasūyā, who was deeply versed in righteousness, embraced Sītā with loving arms and kissed her gently on the head. She spoke with warmth, “Your words were clear, well-formed, and sweet. I have heard from you how the svayaṃvara took place, O gentle speaker, and your story has truly delighted me.” As the sun set and the auspicious night began, the sounds of birds settling to sleep after a day spent searching for food filled the air. Ascetics, their garments still wet from their evening baths, gathered together, holding water jars. When the seers had offered their oblations into the sacred fires, smoke tinged red like a dove’s body drifted on the wind. The trees, though sparse of leaves, had grown dense, and the directions were hidden even in this remote forest. Night creatures moved about, while the peaceful animals of the hermitage lay down near the sacred bathing places. The night had fully blossomed, adorned with stars, and the moon, wrapped in a veil of soft moonlight, rose gently into the sky. Anasūyā then said, “Go now, Sītā, I give you leave; attend to Rāma. I am satisfied by your sweet words. Now, dear Maithilī, adorn yourself before me; bring me joy, child, shining with divine ornaments.” Sītā, thus adorned and radiant as a daughter of the gods, bowed respectfully to Anasūyā and went to Rāma. Rāghava, best among speakers, saw Sītā so beautifully adorned and rejoiced at the gift of affection bestowed by the noble ascetic. Sītā then shared with Rāma all that had transpired—the garments, ornaments, and garlands given to her in loving kindness by Anasūyā.