Amidst the tranquil banks of the sacred Ganga, vigilant soldiers of King Guha discerned the encampment of a massive army. Swiftly, they reported the unusual sight of a vast assembly of troops within his domain. Guha, ever watchful, personally surveyed the scene and espied a grand chariot adorned with the insignia of the Ikshvaku dynasty—a banner emblazoned with the kovidar tree. A shadow of doubt crept into his mind: Was Bharata here with hostile intent to capture Rama and Lakshmana? Or perhaps, suspecting that we had hosted them before their crossing of the Ganga, does he now seek to confront us?
Guha, whose loyalty to Rama was unwavering, declared to his men: “Rama, the son of Dasharatha, is not merely my lord but my closest friend. We must prepare to safeguard his interests at any cost. Assemble the army and deploy our guerrilla warriors, skilled in neutralizing archers and horsemen. Let us launch five hundred boats, each manned by a hundred armed guards, to confront any threat from Ayodhya’s forces. Spare the innocent—women, the aged, and children. I shall approach Bharata myself to ascertain his true intent.”
Taking fish, meat, and honey as tokens of goodwill, Guha humbly presented himself before Bharata. The latter’s charioteer, Sumantra, recognized Guha and explained his intimate bond with Rama. With permission granted, Guha addressed Bharata with humility: “Prince, this land is yours; we are but your humble servants. Stay as long as you wish, and we shall serve you and your army. Here is food and shelter for all. O friend of my beloved Rama, you honor us with your presence.”
Bharata, moved by Guha’s sincerity, replied: “Friend, your generosity is boundless. However, the Ganga’s mighty currents impede our journey. Kindly guide us to a safe crossing and lead us to the hermitage of Sage Bharadwaja.” Guha, with folded hands, offered his assistance and added, “Allow my archers to escort you. I shall accompany you as well.” Yet, Guha could not suppress his lingering doubt and cautiously asked, “Prince, forgive my boldness, but your vast army gives rise to concern. Are you here with ill will toward Rama?”
Bharata, with the clarity of a clear sky, reassured Guha: “Such a thought would never enter my heart. Rama is my brother, my guide, and my lord. I come not to harm him but to entreat him to return to Ayodhya and ascend the throne that is rightfully his. Dismiss your doubts, for my purpose is pure.” Guha, now convinced, extolled Bharata’s virtue: “O noble prince, you renounced a throne that came to you effortlessly. Your sincerity in seeking Rama amidst his tribulations will etch your name in the annals of history as a paragon of virtue.”
That night, Bharata retired, but his mind was restless, plagued by thoughts of Rama’s hardships. Like smoldering embers beneath ashes, his worries kindled sorrow. Guha, noticing his turmoil, sought to console him by recounting Lakshmana’s unwavering devotion. “O prince, Lakshmana guards Rama and Sita like a sentinel, ever vigilant, refusing rest. Despite my entreaties, he declines comfort, for he finds peace only in serving them. With bow in hand, he stands resolute, guarding his brother and sister-in-law through the night.”
Lakshmana himself had once remarked to Guha, “How can I rest while Rama and Sita lie on grass mats? My life holds no value if they endure such hardships. Even the gods and demons combined cannot overcome Rama, yet here he lies, burdened by exile. My father, King Dasharatha, who performed grand sacrifices to be blessed with Rama, must have succumbed to grief. Our mother Kausalya’s cries likely echo through the palace, and the once-thriving Ayodhya must now be shrouded in sorrow.”
As dawn broke, Guha guided Bharata and his entourage to the Ganga’s crossing. With reverence, he narrated how Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana had spent their night: “Rama refused the food I offered, saying ascetics must give but not take. Lakshmana prepared a bed of grass for Rama and Sita beneath a sturdy tree. While they rested, Lakshmana stood guard, bow in hand, embodying vigilance and devotion. I too kept watch, joined by my warriors, ensuring their safety.”
Guha’s account, rich with loyalty and reverence, deepened Bharata’s sorrow. Reflecting on Rama’s virtues and trials, he wept like an elephant struck by an arrow. Satrughna, moved by his brother’s anguish, joined in grieving. Their mother Kausalya, weakened by fasting and grief, approached Bharata and embraced him, saying: “O son, you are the hope of our family. Have you heard any ill tidings of Rama? My heart fears for him.”
Bharata, overwhelmed by her affection, sought solace in Guha’s vivid memories of Rama’s steadfastness. As the sun rose higher, Bharata resolved to fulfill his mission and bring Rama back to Ayodhya—a city resplendent with wealth, beauty, and harmony—restoring its glory and the happiness of its people.