Tradition and the Vedas have given currency to the idea, also repeated by the poets, that he who is hostile to Rama finds no resting-place even in hell. The doubt that troubled every mind now was: ‘O God, will Rama return to Ayodhya or not?’

Bharata could neither sleep by night nor eat by day, a pious anxiety troubled him, as a fish sunk in a shallow marsh is troubled about the lack of water. (When only a little mud is left, the fish just manage to live; if that too dries up, they all perish. Bharata was troubled for the same reason: the two days were now nearly over and he did not know how he would be able to survive when he would be left without Rama, the life-sustaining water to the fish of his heart.

‘Disguised as my mother,’ he thought, ‘it was fate that wrought this mischief, like the dread of drought or flood or some other calamity when the rice-crop is ripening for the harvest. How can Rama’s coronation be accomplished? I cannot think of a way out.

He will certainly return in obedience to the guru’s commands, but then the sage will only bid Rama return when he knows to be his will. Raghunatha would return even at the bidding of his mother, but will Rama’s mother ever insist on it?

As for myself, I am only his servant and as such count for nothing. Moreover, I have fallen upon evil times and have Providence against me. If I assert my own will, it would be a grievous sin, for the duty of a servant is more arduous than the lifting of Mount Kailasa.’

Without being able to settle a single plan in his mind, Bharata spent the whole night in anxious thought. At daybreak he bathed and bowed his head to the Lord, and was just taking his seat when he was sent for by the sage (Vasishtha).

After making obeisance to the preceptor’s lotus feet and receiving his permission, Bharata took his seat; presently the Brahmans, the elite of the city, the ministers and all other councillors came and assembled together.