King Janaka, following the noble customs, accompanied King Dasaratha’s procession for a few miles before turning back. Though a mighty sovereign, Janaka was still a father whose heart, bound by affection for his daughter now fully part of another household, carried an unspoken sorrow. The sight of his beloved child, once a constant presence, would now be absent from his abode—a poignant reality that, despite the wisdom of kings, scholars, and teachers, must be endured and gradually accepted when a daughter is given in marriage.
At the head of the royal entourage were groups of revered sages, followed by the king’s assembly and vigilant guards. Suddenly, an unsettling scene captured their attention: great flocks of birds screeched and flew wildly, filling the sky with alarming cries and instilling dread in the onlookers. In stark contrast, wild beasts moved in an orderly manner, as if participating in sacred rites. Troubled by these ominous signs, King Dasaratha halted the procession and turned to Vasishta, seeking answers to his growing anxiety.
Vasishta, with a reassuring smile, said, “O King, these signs reveal a dual nature. The chaotic flight of birds forewarns of impending adversity, yet the harmonious movement of the beasts suggests this trial will transform into good fortune.” The sage’s words eased the king’s heart, but before peace could settle, a sudden, ferocious wind uprooted mighty trees, lightning flashed without rain, and the land fell into a shroud of dust, as though eclipsed by a mysterious force.
Amid the chaos, a radiant figure emerged: a formidable sage clads in saffron robes, wielding a glittering axe—Parashurama, fierce as Shiva with his trident. Murmurs rippled through the assembly as they recognized him, the slayer who had once decimated the Kshatriya line in vengeance for his father Jamadagni’s death at the hands of King Kartavirya. Dasaratha, filled with trepidation, performed the traditional welcome, yet his heart faltered at the sight.
Parashurama accepted the homage from the sages and strode directly to Rama. “I have heard tales of your unmatched strength, young prince, and of your feet with the divine bow of Shiva. Such stories intrigue me, yet they do not satisfy my belief. I have brought the mighty bow of Vishnu, gifted to my ancestor Sage Jamadagni. String this bow and ready an arrow—prove your prowess, and I shall acknowledge your worth before engaging you in combat.”
King Dasaratha, distraught, addressed Parashurama with folded hands. “O revered sage, you are unequalled in might and have renounced the path of wrath. You withdrew to Mahendra Giri after conquering the earth and offering it to Kashyapa. Why now do you come bearing a challenge, bringing dread upon us? Spare Rama, who is the light of our lives, newly wedded and full of promise.”
Ignoring the king’s plea, Parashurama spoke directly to Rama. “There exist two divine bows, both forged by Vishvakarma. One was gifted to Shiva to vanquish Tripurasura, and the other to Vishnu. In a cosmic trial of strength, the gods watched as Vishnu’s roar rendered Shiva’s bow motionless. Enraged, Rudra bestowed his bow to King Devaratha of Videha. Vishnu’s bow came to my father and now to me. Show me your strength, prince—take this bow and prove your mettle.”
Rama, moved by his father’s distress, answered with composed resolve. “O noble sage, to challenge the strength of a prince is to challenge the honour of the royal lineage. Yet you are a Brahmin, revered and connected to my mentor Vishvamitra, and therefore deserve due respect.” Without delay, Rama took up the bow, strung it with effortless grace, and fixed an arrow, looking at Parashurama with unwavering eyes. “Tell me, should I aim at your spiritual essence or the accumulated merit of your penance? For once the arrow is set, it cannot be withdrawn.”
Heavenly beings and sages gathered in the skies; their anticipation palpable. When Rama drew the bow, Parashurama’s brilliance dimmed; his power waned, and a profound silence swept over him. He gasped in realization and said, “I promised Kashyapa never to step upon this land after gifting it to him. My resolve stands. Strike my penance, for I now know who you truly are—Vishnu incarnates, come to preserve cosmic order.”
Rama released the arrow, dispelling the storm and clearing the dust-filled sky. Light returned, serenity enveloped the assembly, and the gods rejoiced. Parashurama, now subdued and enlightened, departed swiftly to Mahendra Giri. Rama laid the bow to rest, reassured Dasaratha of Parashurama’s exit, and the procession resumed toward Ayodhya.
Their arrival was met with jubilant celebrations. Streets were adorned with garlands, lamps lit the path, and music and dance filled the air. Queen Kausalya, Sumitra, and Kaikeyi, accompanied by priests and noblewomen, welcomed the new brides with hymns and rituals. Rama, Lakshmana, Bharata, and Shatrughna, with their consorts, paid their respects to King Dasaratha before retiring to their chambers, beginning a harmonious chapter as newlyweds.
In due time, King Dasaratha summoned Bharata. “Your uncle Yudhajit has come to take you to the land of your grandfather, the king of Kekaya. I gave my word and now ask you to fulfil it.” Bharata, along with Shatrughna, departed to Kekaya, while Rama and Lakshmana embraced their responsibilities and contented family life, aiding King Janaka in governance.
Thus, fate moved forward, preparing the stage for the profound events yet to unfold in the tale of virtue, duty, and destiny.
