‘All is well,’ replied Bharata, and then asked how his own family fared: ‘Tell me, where is my father and where are the other queens? Where is Sita and where my dear brothers, Rama and Lakshmana?’

On hearing her son’s affectionate words, the wicked woman brought crocodile tears to her eyes and spoke words that pierced Bharata’s ears and soul like a spear:

‘I had, my son, arranged everything to perfection, and poor Manthara had been of great help to me, but God somehow upset my plans a little before they could be completed; for the king has gone to Indra’s realm.’

As soon as he heard this, Bharata was overwhelmed with grief, trembling like an elephant who is terrified at the roar of a lion. Crying, ‘Father! Father! Ah, my father!’ he fell to the ground in grievous affliction, and said:

‘I could not see you before you left, nor did you, my father, entrust me to the care of Rama.’ Then, collecting himself, he got up with some effort and said, ‘Tell me, mother, the cause of my father’s death.’

On hearing her son’s words, Kaikeyi replied as one who had cut a vital part and poured poison into the wound. With a glad heart the cruel, wicked woman recounted from the beginning all that she had done.

When he heard of Rama’s exile to the forest, Bharata forgot his father’s death; and realizing in his heart that he was at the root of it, he was silent and stupefied.