The time has come to unveil the impartial designs of fate, woven solely for the welfare of the universe. At the behest of the weary yet resolute King, Sumanthra set forth, navigating through the bustling multitudes to summon Rama. Though the journey was marked by sights of joy and festivity, his heart bore a weighty unease, burdened by ominous signs of misfortune. Yet, bound by duty as the King’s loyal servant, Sumanthra quelled his thoughts and hastened to fulfill his charge.
As his resolve sharpened, his spirit lifted, and the same vigor coursed through the veins of his horses. They galloped smoothly, bearing him swiftly to Rama’s abode. The palace grounds resonated with the sacred chants of Vedic hymns, the air sweetened by incense and the fragrance of fresh flowers. Groups of Brahmins busied themselves with sacred preparations, gathering materials to avoid any last-minute disruptions to the coronation.
The palace pulsed with life. Drums thundered at all four corners, and sacred waters collected from a hundred rivers, four oceans, ten streams, and one hundred wells—gifts from the Ikshvaku kings—and from the one hundred and eight ponds of Trisanku and Ambarisha, stood ready for the ceremonies. Yet, amid this grandeur, unease lingered. Priests and elders whispered anxiously about the King’s absence. All inquiries fell upon Sumanthra, who, with folded hands, simply declared, “I go now to summon Rama, as per the King’s command,” carefully avoiding any discourse on the King’s condition.
With reverence for the Ikshvaku lineage, Sumanthra approached Rama’s dwelling. Young archers, vigilant and armed with swords and tridents, guarded the entrance. At Sumanthra’s arrival, they made way with proper decorum, allowing him to enter. Sumanthra’s heart swelled with joy at the sight of Rama—serene, resplendent, and seated upon a golden throne adorned with ivory and precious stones.
Folding his hands, Sumanthra addressed Rama: “O noble son of Kausalya, your father, King Dasaratha, and Queen Kaikeyi summon you at once.” Rama, with his characteristic grace, offered a seat to his visitor and turned to Sita with a knowing expression. “The King and Queen must have a crucial matter to discuss, likely regarding my coronation. Surely, the benevolent and discerning Kaikeyi, guided by divine wisdom, has devised a plan for the greater good of the universe. By fortune’s favor, they have sent this trusted messenger to summon me. I must go at once. Sita, see to the palace in my absence.”
As tradition dictated, Sita accompanied Rama to the chariot’s alighting point. Like a lion emerging from his cave, Rama beheld Lakshmana, steadfast and ready to accompany him. Greeting well-wishers and acknowledging the onlookers with folded hands, Rama ascended the chariot. Sumanthra, holding the reins, guided the royal vehicle, which produced harmonious, distinct sounds with each movement—a masterpiece of artistry and craftsmanship. The horses, akin to swift elephants, moved with the grace of a breeze under Sumanthra’s expert guidance.
Lakshmana assumed the role of protector, keenly observing the surroundings beneath the royal umbrella. The path to the King’s palace came alive with tumultuous cheers of “Victory to Rama!” Trumpets blared, conches roared, and the thunderous gallop of the chariot echoed like a pride of lions in full cry. From the high balconies, women showered Rama with flowers, their voices ringing with praise: “Your father prepares to crown you King. Fortunate are Kausalya and Sita to witness this glorious day!” Rama responded to every blessing with humble hands folded in gratitude.
As the chariot approached the bustling trade district, Rama passed through streets adorned with garlands of pearls, corals, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. The richness on display made the area seem the jewel of Ayodhya. Moving steadily, the royal entourage entered the King’s way, resplendent with grandeur and precision. Sages along the path blessed Rama, proclaiming, “May you rule like your noble forefathers, ensuring safety, prosperity, and justice for all.”
Arriving at the palace gates, Rama and Lakshmana dismounted, taking up their quivers and arms as was custom. Instructing the retinue to remain outside, they proceeded toward the King’s chambers. Eagerly, the people awaited the outcome, their hopes pinned on the promise of Rama’s ascent to the throne.
