The atmosphere was suddenly relaxed. The gods
showered down flowers and blessings, clouds parted and
precipitated rains, the oceans tossed up in the air all the rare
treasures from their depths. The sages cried, "Janaka's
tribulations and trials are ended." Music filled the air. The
citizens garlanded, embraced, and anointed each other with
perfumes and sprinkled sandalwood powder in the air.
People donned their best clothes, gathered at the palace
gates and public squares, and danced and sang without any
restraint; flutes and pipes and drums created a din over the
loud chants and songs from many throats. Gods and
goddesses watching the happy scenes below assumed
human form, mixed with the crowds, and shared their joy.
"The beauty of our royal bridegroom can never be fully
grasped unless one is blessed with a thousand eyes,"
commented the women. "See his brother! How very
handsome! Blessed parents to have begotten such sons!"
Sita had secluded herself and was unaware of the latest
development. She moved from bed to bed for lack of
comfort, and lay beside a fountain on a slab of moonstone—the coolest bed they could find her. Even there she had no peace since the lotus blooms in the pool of the fountain
teased her mind by reminding her of the shape of his eyes
or his complexion. She grumbled, "No peace anywhere … I
am deserted. My mind tortures me with reminders. What use
are they if I can't even know where to look for him? What sort
of a man can he be to cause all this torment and just pass on
doing nothing to alleviate it? A regal appearance, but
actually practising sorcery!"
Her tortuous reflections were interrupted by the arrival of a
maid. Instead of bowing and saluting her mistress, as was
normal, she pirouetted around singing snatches of a love
song. Sita sat up and commanded, "Be quiet! Are you
intoxicated?" The maid answered, "The whole country is
intoxicated. How would you know, my good mistress, if you
lock yourself in and mope and moan?" She went on to
explain in a rush of incoherence. "The king of Ayodhya …
son, broad-shouldered and a god on earth. No one saw it
happen, he was so quick and swift, but he pressed, so they
say, one end with his feet, and seized the other end with his
hand, and drew the string and oh! …"
"Oh, intoxicated beauty, what are you saying?" When Sita
understood what had happened, she stood up, her breasts
heaving. She held herself erect as she said, "Do you know if
this is the same man who struck me down with a look as he
passed along the street? If it is someone else, I will end mylife."
When the initial excitement subsided, King Janaka sought
Viswamithra's advice. "What shall I do next? I suddenly find
myself in an unexpected situation. Is it your desire that I
should send for the priests and astrologer and fix the earliest
date for the wedding, or send a message to Dasaratha and
wait for his convenience?"
Viswamithra replied, "Dispatch a messenger with the
auspicious news immediately and invite Dasaratha formally."
Janaka at once retired in order to compose a proper
invitation to Dasaratha, with the help of his court poets and
epistle-writers, and dispatched it.
In due course, Janaka's emissaries presented the epistle
a t Dasaratha's court. Dasaratha ordered his reader to
receive the epistle and read it out: The message gave an
account of all that had happened from the time Rama had
left Ayodhya up to the snapping of Shiva's bow. Dasaratha
heaped presents on the messengers, and commented light-
heartedly, "Tell them in Mithila that we heard the sound of the
bow snapping… ." He then passed orders: "Let the
announcement in appropriate language be made widely that
King Janaka has invited for Rama's wedding every man,
woman, and child in our capital. Let those able to travel to
Mithila start at once in advance of us." Professional
announcers on elephants, accompanied with drums, carriedthe King's proclamation to every nook and corner of the
capital.
The road to Mithila was crowded with men, women, and
children. When the huge mass began to assemble and move
down the road, the world looked suddenly shrunken in size.
Elephants bearing pennants and flags, their foreheads
covered with gold plates, horses prancing and trotting, and a
variety of ox-drawn carriages and chariots were on the
move, in addition to a vast throng on foot. The sun's rays
were caught and reflected by the thousands of white satin
umbrellas and the brilliant decorations of the army men.
Heavy-breasted women clad in gossamer-like draperies sat
on dark elephants, their necklaces swaying with the
movement of the elephants, flanked by warriors bearing
swords and bows on horseback.
The poet is especially happy and detailed when
describing the mood and the activity of the young in this
festive crowd. A youth followed a carriage at a trot, his eyes
fixed on the window at which a face had appeared a little
while ago, hoping for another glimpse of that face. Another
young man could not take his eye off the lightly covered
breast of a girl in a chariot; he tried to keep ahead of it,
constantly looking back over his shoulder, unaware of what
was in front, and bumping the hindquarters of the elephants
on the march. When a girl inadvertently slipped down the back of a horse, another young man picked her up;
but instead of setting her down after the rescue, he journeyed on
with her in his arms. Another went along brooding and
reflecting as he gazed on his beloved. Couples who had had
a quarrel over some detail of the arrangements for this
journey walked side by side without speaking, the woman
not caring to wear a flower in her hair, but only a frown on her
face, yet close enough to each other to avoid separation.
One youth who was not spoken to but was agitated by the
messages conveyed by the eloquent eyes of a damsel said,
"You won't speak? But surely, when you cross the river, you'll
want my strong arms to carry you, and how shall I know if you
don't speak to me? I know that you object only to speech, not
to my touch, inevitable you'll need that when we come to the
river's edge."