The city was one mass of flags and banners and festal arches. It was decorated in a way which defies description. Flowers rained from heaven and every soul was rapt in heavenly bliss.

Women streamed forth in crowds; they came running just as they were. Carrying vessels of gold and platters full of auspicious articles, they entered the portals of the royal palace, singing as they went along.

After waving the lights round and round over the child’s head, they cast their gifts before him and time after time threw themselves at the infant’s feet. Bards, minstrels, panegyrists and songsters chanted solemn praises of Raghunayaka.

Everyone gave whatever he possessed; even he who received did not keep it for himself. All the lanes of the city were muddy with pastes of musk and sandal and saffron.

There were strains of happy festivity in every house, for the very fountain of beauty had manifested himself. All the men and women of the city were wild with joy everywhere.

Kaikeyi and Sumitra also gave birth to lovely sons. The joy, grandeur, solemnity of the occasion and the crowds of men were more than what Sharada and the Serpent King could describe.

The city of Ayodhya shone resplendent; it looked as if Night had come to see the Lord and, feeling abashed as it were at the sight of the sun (her own lord), had deliberately stayed over and become twilight.