Every moment hung heavy like year. In this state Bharata drew near to the city, and evil omens occurred to him as he entered it; crows, perched in uncanny places, cawed dissonantly.

Asses and jackals uttered presages of ill, which pierced Bharata to the heart as he listened. Lakes and rivers, groves and gardens seemed forlorn, and the city wore a particularly dismal look.

Birds and beasts, horses and elephants were too wretched to look at, undone by the fell disease of separation from Rama. The citizens were in despair, as though they had lost everything they had in their possession.

The citizens met him, but spoke not a word; they made obeisance to him in silence and passed on; nor could Bharata enquire after their welfare, his mind being obsessed with fear and grief.

The market places and the streets repelled the sight, as though a wild fire had swept through every quarter of the city. Kaikeyi, who was to the Solar race what the moon is to the lotuses, rejoiced to hear of her son’s approach.

She prepared the lustral lamps and sprang up gladly and ran and met him at the door and conducted him into her apartments. Bharata saw that while the whole household was woe-begone, like a lotus-bed blasted by the frost,

- Kaikeyi was as jubilant as a Bhil woman who had set a whole forest ablaze. Seeing her son melancholy and depressed, she asked, ‘Is all well at my mother’s house?’