After the great rituals and assemblies, the king’s vassals and ministers—well-versed in the science of governance—humbly bowed to the sage Vasiṣṭha and to King Daśaratha, then departed to bathe and purify themselves. Meanwhile, noble sages such as Vāmadeva and Viśvāmitra, placing Vasiṣṭha at their head, also stood ready for the sacred bath. King Daśaratha, having honored the gathering of revered sages, was graciously dismissed by them and withdrew to attend to his royal duties, O destroyer of foes. Those who dwelled in the forests returned to their woodland abodes; those of the sky ascended back to their celestial realms; and the city-dwellers made their way to their homes in the city, all with the intention of returning the next morning. At the affectionate request of both the king and Vasiṣṭha, the sage Viśvāmitra chose to spend the night at Vasiṣṭha’s residence. Within that noble hermitage, Vasiṣṭha, attended by the foremost of brahmins, kings, and sages, was lovingly served by Rāma and all the sons of Daśaratha. The illustrious Vasiṣṭha, honored by all the worlds, eventually withdrew to his own hermitage, accompanied by a host of gods—just as Brahma returns to Brahmaloka, surrounded by the divine. There, the sage gently dismissed Rāma and the other sons of Daśaratha, who had bowed at his feet, sending them away with blessings. He also bade farewell to those who move in the sky, on earth, and in water—the beings who dwell in the praise of his virtues—and, in due order, performed the daily sacred rites for the twice-born at his noble hermitage. The heroic princes, radiant like the moon, returned to their homes and diligently attended to all their daily duties. Vasiṣṭha, the Rāghava princes, the kings, sages, and brahmins, each then busied themselves with their own affairs within the streets of their respective dwellings. They bathed in lakes adorned with lotuses, water lilies, and blue lilies, and in ponds frequented by chakravaka ducks, swans, and cranes. With hearts full of generosity, they gave gifts to the brahmins—cows, land, gold, beds, and seats—along with food and garments. In their palaces, resplendent with gold and jewels, they worshipped the gods: Acyuta, Īśa, Agni, Sūrya, and others. Together with sons, grandsons, friends, servants, relatives, and companions, they enjoyed appropriate and nourishing meals. At that time, the day in the city was gentle and delightful, with only an eighth part of its duration left, and a soft breeze blowing. They spent the evening in accordance with custom, in the company of their relatives, until the sun set. As night approached, they reverently performed the evening worship, recited the Aghamarṣaṇa hymn, sang auspicious praises, and chanted charming songs. Then, as the moon—remover of the sorrow of dark-eyed women—rose, spreading its dew like the celestial moon emerging from the ocean of milk, the Rāghavas slowly reclined on beds strewn with flowers and scattered with handfuls of camphor, delightful as the broad disc of the full moon. Gradually, except for Rāma, the others there, engaged in their customary activities, passed the beautiful night as if it were but a fleeting moment. But Rāma remained wakeful, his mind absorbed in deep reflection on the sweet and noble words of Vasiṣṭha, savoring them again and again, like an elephant relishing the taste of sugarcane. He pondered: “What is this so-called wandering in worldly existence? Who are these people? What are these various beings here—do they come and go, and why? What is the true nature of the mind, and how does it spread forth? Is this all merely illusion, and if so, how does it arise and how does it cease? When this has ceased, for whom would there be virtue or fault? And how has this limitation arisen in the Self itself? What has the venerable sage declared about the dissolution of the mind? What has been said regarding mastery over the senses, and what has been stated concerning the Self? By such terms as ‘living being,’ ‘mind-stuff,’ ‘mind,’ and ‘illusion,’ it is the Self alone that projects this worldly existence in these various unreal forms. When these, bound only by the threads of mind, come to an end, suffering is pacified; how can these, so difficult to treat, be cured for us? How can I, by the strength of discernment, separate this chain of enjoyments, which clings like a garland of clouds, as a swan separates a stream of water from milk? Enjoyments cannot be abandoned; without giving them up, we cannot overcome misfortune—alas, what a difficult predicament has come upon us! This attainment is gained only by mastery of the mind; yet, O mountain teacher, due to ignorance, I have squandered it like a child possessed by a yaksha. When will my mind, having reached its own peace and freed from the turmoil of worldly existence, experience happiness like a child who has found its beloved? When will my mind, purified, free from all agitation and curiosity, rest in the boundless path and become sanctified? When, having rested firmly in a place cooler than the moon, filled with the fullness of art and melody, will I laugh at the world? When will the mind, abandoning its fragile form and merging into the Self, attain peace like a wave dissolving in water? When, crossing the ocean of worldly existence, agitated by waves of craving and adorned with the crocodile of illusion, will I become free from fever? When, in peaceful and pure paths, will we, wise seekers of liberation, dwell free from sorrow and with equal vision? When will the fever of transmigration, which afflicts all limbs and threatens every element, finally subside in my mind? O intellect, just as a lamp’s flame in a windless place becomes free of distortion and steady, you will attain tranquility immediately upon realizing your own radiance. When your senses, scorched by the fire of futile striving, effortlessly cross over suffering, you will be like Garuḍa rising from the ocean.” Thus, while the city slumbered, Rāma’s mind, filled with longing for wisdom and peace, dwelt deeply upon the teachings of the sage, seeking the path beyond sorrow and restlessness, yearning for the tranquil radiance of the Self.