Previously in Ramayan : In the beginning, in the land of Ayodhya, the heavens blessed King Dasharatha with a son, the noble prince Rama. Born under auspicious stars, Rama’s life was woven with destiny and divine purpose. His marriage to the virtuous Sita marked the beginning of a journey foretold in legends, a union of souls that would withstand the trials of fate and the tests of time.
In the grand halls of Ayodhya, King Dasharatha, seated on his majestic throne, presided over the royal court. Monarchs from far and wide, rulers of distant lands, gathered to honor him, bringing with them gifts of splendid elephants, noble horses, jewels of unparalleled beauty, and priceless ornaments. They came to offer homage to the mighty king and partake in the royal assembly of Ayodhya, each paying tribute to the sovereign of the land.
With hands joined in reverence, the visiting kings addressed Dasharatha, acknowledging him as the supreme ruler of all Bharatavarsha, the vast expanse of the Indian subcontinent. They recognized him not only as the king of Ayodhya but as the emperor, the Chakravarti, who reigned over all others.
Among them, one king stepped forward, requesting a rare favor from Dasharatha. With reverence in his voice, he made his plea, humbly asking for a boon — that Prince Rama, the embodiment of virtue, would one day take his rightful place as ruler. Assured by Dasharatha’s wise rule, he dared to hope that Rama, even at his young age, could fulfill the noble duties that destiny would lay upon him.
From a tender age of just five, young Rama demonstrated his strength and valor. When the kingdom was threatened by the demoness Tataka, it was Rama’s arrow that struck her down, cleansing the land of her dark influence. His victory over Tataka was not just a display of might, but a restoration of peace, a triumph that resonated through the heavens.
In time, Rama’s renown reached the kingdom of Mithila, where King Janaka possessed a sacred bow gifted by Lord Shiva himself. Many had tried to lift and string this mighty bow, but all had failed. When Rama laid his hands upon it, he did so with ease, breaking the bow in a display of unmatched power and grace. The assembled gods and demons looked on in awe, trembling at the sight of his divine strength.
The kings, assembled in admiration, were humbled by Rama’s virtues. They knew that this was no ordinary prince but a hero destined to lead, a beacon of dharma who would light the way for all. And so, they bestowed upon him their praises, knowing that his legacy would be woven into the fabric of the cosmos itself.
In this way, Prince Rama’s journey began, marked by acts of courage and kindness, earning him the reverence of both mortals and gods alike. Each step he took brought honor to the House of Dasharatha and foreshadowed the epic tale that would forever remain etched in the annals of time.
The mighty Prince Rama, beloved by all, stood as a beacon of strength and virtue. With such valor, Rama instilled a quiet reverence, even a tremor of awe, in the hearts of both gods and mortals. The very heavens held their breath in his presence, and the noble Vasuki, the great serpent, shuddered at the thought of his power.
King Dasharatha, now growing aged, pondered the destiny of his kingdom. Reflecting on his life, he bore no regret, for in his old age, he had raised a son as valiant as Rama, a slayer of demons and protector of the land. Many foes had fallen at Rama’s hands, safeguarding not only Ayodhya but all realms under Dasharatha’s rule. The king’s reputation spread far and wide, bringing peace and prosperity, a testament to the strength of his lineage.
However, as the king spoke of his intent to bestow the throne upon Rama, a hush fell over the assembly. The gathered kings, ministers, and warriors sensed the gravity of this decision. Dasharatha, noticing their apprehension, laughed gently, reassuring them with his calm demeanor. "Fear not," he said, "for my heart is steadfast in its resolve to see Rama crowned. This desire is my own, and I shall see it fulfilled."
With the coming of spring, in the month of Chaitra, preparations for the grand coronation commenced. The air was filled with the fragrance of blossoms, offerings made in the name of Rama’s ascendance to the throne. Every precious item and auspicious token required for the consecration was brought forth, assembled with the utmost care under the guidance of Sage Vashistha, the royal priest.
King Dasharatha, filled with pride, called out to his trusted charioteer, Sumantra. "Listen well, Sumantra, swift and wise. Take the chariot, adorned in its finest, and bring Rama to the palace with the honor he deserves." And so, the call was made, summoning Rama, the beloved prince, to assume his destined role as ruler, the light of the Raghu dynasty, and a protector of the righteous.
Thus, in this grand assembly of kings and gods alike, the coronation of Rama was set to unfold, a moment destined to be etched in the eternal story of Ayodhya. The world awaited, breathless, to witness the rise of a king whose legend would transcend time and carry forth the legacy of honor, duty, and boundless courage.
Under the decree of King Dasharatha, the royal chariot was sent forth to fetch Prince Rama. The people thronged to catch a glimpse of their beloved prince as he was brought in splendid ceremony to his father, the king. Climbing into the chariot, Rama journeyed with a serene dignity, and upon arrival, he humbly bent to touch his father’s feet in reverence. King Dasharatha embraced his son with immense joy, his heart swelling with pride.
In the royal assembly, amidst ministers and courtiers, Dasharatha seated himself with great delight beside his son. The king’s gaze was like the moon rising in the night, casting a gentle light upon all who witnessed this father and son, bound by the ties of blood and destiny. Together, they ascended the throne, a symbol of their unity and shared lineage, and King Dasharatha began imparting the timeless wisdom of kingship to his beloved son.
With solemnity, Dasharatha spoke, “Rama, my eldest and most cherished, remember this well: as king, it is your duty to nurture and protect the people, just as the moonlight gently nourishes the night. Your beauty of soul and virtue will bring peace and joy to our kingdom, yet you must remain vigilant. Learn the laws of governance with utmost care, and let no greed or desire taint your judgment.”
He continued, his voice carrying the weight of his experience, “Never take what belongs to others, nor covet another’s wealth. Rule with justice, for that is the essence of a true king. Protect the people, and give generously to the poor and the downtrodden, for a king’s duty extends beyond power to encompass mercy and kindness.”
In the inner chambers, Queen Kausalya listened with great joy to the words of wisdom imparted to her son. Overwhelmed with pride, she offered gifts in Rama’s honor, distributing wealth to the needy, calling for the best cows to be gifted and jewels of silver and gold to be given in celebration of this auspicious day.
As Rama took his father’s blessings and prepared to depart, his heart brimmed with gratitude. He bid farewell to the king, and as he returned to his quarters, his wife Sita awaited him with love and admiration, eager to share in his joy and pride.
As night fell, Rama rested peacefully, his spirit nourished by the teachings of his father. At dawn, he rose once more, with love and respect, to greet his father and seek his guidance. Dasharatha, his heart swelling with pride, seated Rama beside him and said with a voice of affection and counsel, “Rama, heed well my words, for they shall guide you as the beacon of your reign.”
In the hallowed halls of Ayodhya, King Dasharatha spoke with the wisdom and weight of a lifetime. "Listen well, my son, to the deeds I have done and the path I have tread. Through countless sacrifices, I have sought to quench the thirst of the gods, offering them grand rituals and prayers. I have given boundless gifts to Brahmins, sharing wealth and blessings in the name of righteousness. The duties of kingship are vast, and I have fulfilled them with all my heart. But now, Rama, it is time for me to pass this kingdom into your hands, for I have given all that I could."
As Dasharatha continued, his tone grew somber. "Dark omens cloud the skies, strange signs trouble the heavens. Stars fall from their places, and an unnatural shadow crosses the moon, as though Rahu himself seeks to consume it even on the full moon. In this kingdom, where once there was prosperity, now strange misfortunes arise. Such omens foretell the passing of kings, as sages have warned us for ages. My strength fades, and my body grows weary with age. It is time, my son, for you to take my place."
The king looked upon Rama with tender eyes, his voice a blend of pride and melancholy. "In my old age, my body has become frail, my spirit exhausted. The duties of a king weigh heavy, and now I entrust this burden to you. As long as wisdom remains within me, I know that you, Rama, shall rule with honor and justice. My time is near; I can feel the call of death approaching. It is my wish, my urgent plea, that you take up the crown without delay."
Dasharatha’s words hung in the air, filled with the solemnity of an era coming to an end. Rama, moved by his father’s words, bowed low, vowing to uphold the legacy of his father’s reign. He understood the gravity of this moment, the passing of duty from father to son, a sacred bond that would guide Ayodhya into a new dawn. With courage in his heart and humility in his soul, Rama prepared to ascend the throne, fulfilling his father’s final wish and embracing his destiny as the rightful king of Ayodhya.
Thus, the king prepared to leave his mortal duties behind, placing his trust in Rama to lead with the same wisdom, strength, and compassion that had marked his own reign. In the royal chambers of Ayodhya, King Dasharatha, feeling the weight of fate and duty, summoned Rama, his eldest son, with a heart both heavy and resolute. “It is not my place to deny you this kingdom, Rama,” the king spoke, his voice a mixture of reverence and sorrow. “As my eldest, it is you who should rightfully inherit the throne. For as long as I live, my heart will know no rest until I see you crowned.”
“But beware,” Dasharatha cautioned, “for there are those who might envy your rightful place. Many eyes are upon you, and not all wish you well. Guard yourself, my son, and let no deception find its way to your heart. Tomorrow is an auspicious day, blessed by the stars. On the day of the Pushya Nakshatra, you shall begin your vigil, fasting in preparation for the great duty that awaits.”
With these words, the king offered guidance on the sacred rituals to be performed. “Tonight, stay awake in prayer, lighting the ghee lamps to honor the gods, and let this night be one of solemn preparation. Stand in meditation, for the kingdom shall soon be in your hands.”
Thus prepared, Rama took his father’s blessing with a bowed head and made his way to his mother, Queen Kausalya, to share the news. As he entered her chambers, the air was fragrant with sandalwood and incense, and sacred lamps glowed softly, casting their gentle light upon the queen. Kausalya, radiant with joy and pride, welcomed her son with blessings, her heart swelling at the thought of Rama’s destiny unfolding before her eyes.
In reverence, Rama knelt before his mother, joining his hands and offering his respects. “Mother,” he spoke, his voice filled with humility, “Father has bestowed upon me the great responsibility of ruling Ayodhya. Tomorrow, I shall assume this duty with all my heart, and I seek your blessings.”
Queen Kausalya, overcome with emotion, placed her hands upon Rama’s head. “May you rule justly, my son, beloved by all who dwell in Ayodhya. May you bring prosperity and peace to the land, as a true protector of the people.”
With tears of joy in her eyes, she spoke words of blessing, recalling the day of his birth and the auspicious hour he had arrived. “Born under the constellation of Pushya, you came to us as a blessing, and now, you will bring that same blessing to all. As your mother, I am honored to see this day.”
And so, as night fell upon Ayodhya, the kingdom held its breath in anticipation, awaiting the dawn of a new era. The people rejoiced, their hearts warmed by the thought of Rama’s rule. Sacred chants and prayers filled the air, and in the quiet glow of the lamps, Rama prepared to fulfill his destiny.
Preparations for Rama’s consecration as king unfolded with grandeur and reverence. Sumitra, ever the wise and caring stepmother, had only Rama's well-being in her thoughts, wishing for his rule to bring peace and prosperity to the land. Standing beside Rama, Lakshmana, his loyal brother, joined his hands in respect and devotion.
With a warm smile, Rama looked at his younger brother and said, “Lakshmana, you are not merely my brother; you are a part of me. Just as our father Dasharatha rules with wisdom, so shall we share this responsibility together, as one.”
Thus resolved, Rama entered the royal court, where King Dasharatha had gathered his ministers and nobles. The king summoned his trusted advisor Sumantra, ordering him to make all preparations for Rama's auspicious ceremony. The entire city of Ayodhya was alive with joy and anticipation, as priests, nobles, and citizens alike gathered to witness this historic moment.
In the holy fires, sacred oils were poured, filling the air with a divine fragrance that drifted through the streets of Ayodhya. The sounds of festive drums and musical instruments echoed far and wide, as the people celebrated the dawn of Rama’s rule. Even the gods in the heavens looked down in delight, joining in this celestial occasion. From the realm of Brahma to the divine courts, all watched with admiration as the people of Ayodhya rejoiced.
Rama, seeing the sages and holy men in attendance, rose to greet them with respect. He offered them water and other symbols of reverence, honoring their presence and blessings on this significant day. The wise Vashistha, chief among the priests, addressed Rama with a voice full of pride and warmth. “Rama, we are honored by your nobility and character. The people of Ayodhya have come from far and wide to witness your consecration. May you rule with wisdom and compassion, guiding the kingdom to great heights.”
King Dasharatha, still present as a pillar of strength, spoke to Rama with deep emotion. “Today, my son, you take the royal scepter and parasol, symbols of sovereignty. Just as King Nahusha once blessed his son Yayati to carry on his legacy, I now bless you, Rama, to rule with wisdom and justice, for the benefit of all.”
As dawn approached, Sage Vashistha and the wise elders commenced the ceremonial hymns, filling the air with the resonance of Vedic chants. Their voices rose in harmony, echoing through the heavens, as if the entire universe were singing praises of “Victory to Rama!” The auspicious rites for Rama’s consecration continued under Vashistha’s guidance, blessing each moment with sacred intent.
That night, Rama maintained a solemn vigil, fasting and meditating in devotion. Across the realms, the gods, moved by the purity of the moment, showered flowers from the heavens, their petals descending upon Ayodhya like a celestial rain. After witnessing this holy observance, the divine beings returned to their celestial abodes, hearts filled with joy for the great king-to-be.
At the ceremony’s conclusion, Vashistha approached King Dasharatha and spoke with reverence, “O King, the consecration of Rama has been completed at the most auspicious hour.” King Dasharatha, hearing these words, was overcome with joy. With a heart full of gratitude, he offered his respects to Vashistha, bestowing upon him gifts as a mark of his esteem.
Throughout Ayodhya, the citizens—nobles, sages, and common folk alike—kept vigil that night, their hearts brimming with excitement and reverence. They decorated the streets with lights and sang praises, filling every corner of the city with joy and anticipation. It was a night of jubilant celebration, as the people united in devotion, knowing that a golden age awaited them under Rama’s rule.
As the first light of dawn broke over Ayodhya, Queen Kausalya and the other queens prepared for the final rites. The throne, adorned with gold and precious gems, was ready for Rama’s coronation. King Dasharatha, with his heart full of pride, prepared to bestow upon his son the royal seat, crafted with great care, symbolizing the strength and legacy of Ayodhya.
The people of Ayodhya gathered in the marketplaces, courtyards, and streets, brimming with happiness and pride. Music and dance filled the air as they celebrated this auspicious day, singing and rejoicing, for they knew that under Rama’s rule, Ayodhya would flourish like never before.
The gates were adorned with golden banana trees, standing as symbols of prosperity and joy. Beautifully decorated clay pots, filled with fresh mango leaves and sacred water, lined the pathways, and piles of coconuts, betel nuts, and countless bananas were placed for auspicious blessings. The courtyards and streets were swept clean, and water was sprinkled on the ground to settle the dust, ensuring the city sparkled in readiness for the grand occasion.
From every corner of the universe, the divine beings gathered to witness the crowning of Rama. Kubera, the god of wealth, and Varuna, the god of waters, arrived with the other Lokapalas—the eight guardians of the directions—alongside gods and sages from the heavens, mortals from the earth, and beings from the netherworld. White horses and majestic elephants adorned in vibrant colors marched in stately elegance, led by royal charioteers who guided them through the bustling city toward the royal assembly.
The people of Ayodhya, filled with boundless joy, gathered in celebration, for it was the day of Rama’s coronation. King Dasharatha, watching with pride and delight, sensed the excitement and anticipation filling every heart. However, amidst the festivity, some began to wonder why the coronation had not yet commenced, why there was a delay in the sacred ceremony.
Hearing their curiosity, King Dasharatha addressed the assembly with a smile, his heart swelling with joy. He summoned the Brahmins and the family priest, Vashistha, to complete the remaining rituals. At the most auspicious hour, Vashistha brought forth the royal symbols of sovereignty—a parasol and the scepter, both gleaming with divine energy. With great reverence, he presented them to Rama, the chosen heir, blessed by gods and loved by the people.
As the sacred waters were poured upon Rama, marking the formal beginning of his rule, all of creation rejoiced. The heavens resounded with chants of blessings, and flowers rained from above, as if nature itself celebrated the moment. Rama’s coronation was now complete, sealing his fate as the rightful king of Ayodhya, destined to lead his people with compassion, wisdom, and unwavering righteousness.
As the auspicious coronation of Rama approached, a shadow of worry crossed King Dasharatha’s mind. He pondered, fearing the presence of dark forces or ill intentions that might obstruct Rama's path to the throne. A foreboding thought lingered in his heart, as if a hidden hand of fate could not be easily shaken.
At that very moment, an ominous figure appeared at the gates—an ill-fated messenger, a hunchback named Manthara. In a past life, Manthara had been a celestial nymph named Dundubhi, reborn now with twisted intentions, shaped by resentment and misfortune. Her presence alone was enough to bring turmoil wherever she went, her mind consumed with devious thoughts that could sway even the strongest of hearts.
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