As the sun began to set, Rama, pure-hearted and radiant with joy, performed the ritual of touching water, preparing himself for what was to come. The fruits of long austerities were about to manifest in many forms. The blessed sun, shining with a thousand golden rays like in the clear days of autumn, watched over them. Viśvāmitra, the great sage, entrusted all responsibilities to his disciple, the son of Kuśika, and together with Rama and Lakṣmaṇa, they spent a blissful night on the banks of the Sarayu river. That night, the two noble sons of King Daśaratha rested upon a simple bed of grass, a stark contrast to the comforts of their palace. Yet, the gentle and loving words of Viśvāmitra surrounded them, filling the night with such happiness that it seemed to glow with its own light. When dawn arrived and the night had faded, the great sage Viśvāmitra approached Rama, who was lying on a bed of leaves. He gently called out, “O Rama, son of Kausalya, blessed with noble lineage, the early dawn is upon us. Arise, tiger among men. It is time to perform our daily divine duties.” Hearing these kind and encouraging words, Rama and Lakṣmaṇa, the heroic princes, rose, bathed, offered water, and recited the supreme prayers. Having completed their morning rituals, the two mighty brothers, filled with joy, greeted Viśvāmitra with deep respect and stood ready to continue their journey. As they set out, they came upon the confluence of the Sarayu, where the divine river split into three sacred streams. There, they beheld a holy hermitage, the dwelling place of sages whose souls had been purified by many thousands of years of supreme austerity. Filled with wonder and happiness at the sight, Rama and Lakṣmaṇa turned to Viśvāmitra. “O revered one,” they asked, “whose is this sacred hermitage? Who resides here? Please tell us, for our curiosity is great.” Viśvāmitra, smiling at their eagerness, began to explain: “Listen, Rama, and I will tell you to whom this ancient hermitage belonged. “Once, Kāma, the god of love, saw Lord Śiva here, engaged in deep penance and discipline. When Śiva, newly wed, was passing by with the hosts of Maruts, Kāma, overcome by desire, tried to disturb him. The great Lord, angered by this, rebuked Kāma. With a mere glance, Rudra shattered Kāma’s body, leaving him bodiless and consumed by divine wrath. From that day, Kāma became known as Anaṅga, the bodiless one, and the place where his body fell became known as Aṅgaviṣaya, the blessed region. “This is the sacred hermitage of Kāma, and these are his ancient disciples, devoted to righteousness and free from sin. Let us spend the night here, O Rama of auspicious vision, between these two holy rivers. Tomorrow, we shall cross over. Let us approach this pure and sacred place, for our stay will be most excellent, and we shall rest in comfort.” Following Viśvāmitra’s guidance, they bathed, performed their recitations, and offered oblations. The resident ascetics, their eyes bright with the light of long-practiced austerity, recognized the guests and approached with great joy. They offered water for washing the feet, water for welcome, and all proper hospitality to Viśvāmitra. Then, they honored Rama and Lakṣmaṇa as well, delighting them with pleasant stories and gentle words. As evening descended, the sages gathered together, performing the evening prayers with devotion, joined by both the resident ascetics and those who had come with virtuous vows. In the hermitage of Kāma, they dwelt most happily, and the sage Viśvāmitra, foremost among ascetics, entertained the princes with delightful tales. When the next dawn broke clear and bright, Rama and Lakṣmaṇa, the destroyers of enemies, performed their morning rites and approached the riverbank, following Viśvāmitra. The great-souled sages, steadfast in their vows, had prepared a fine boat. They invited Viśvāmitra and the princes to board, wishing them a safe and timely journey. Honoring the sages, Viśvāmitra led Rama and Lakṣmaṇa across the river that flowed to the ocean. As they reached the middle of the stream, a strange and powerful sound arose from the agitated waters. Curious, Rama asked the sage, “What is this tumultuous noise of the water breaking apart?” Viśvāmitra explained, “On Mount Kailasa, O Rama, there is a supreme lake, Mānasa, created by the mind of Brahma. From this lake, the sacred river Sarayu flows forth, approaching Ayodhya. This incomparable sound you hear is the voice of the Sarayu, born from the stirring of those waters. Offer your respectful salutations to her.” Rama and Lakṣmaṇa, righteous and humble, made their salutations as instructed. Reaching the southern bank, they continued their journey swiftly. Soon, they came upon a forest, terrifying in appearance, filled with the ceaseless chirring of crickets. Rama, the unvanquished descendant of Ikshvaku, turned to the eminent sage and asked, “Ah, this forest is formidable, filled with multitudes of crickets. What is this place?” Thus, their journey continued, each step guided by the wisdom of Viśvāmitra, and the sacred land unfolded its mysteries before the noble sons of Daśaratha.