I n the brazen light of day, all damages were accounted for and by Vibhishana’s instruction, a mass cremation was held. He reformed the council and with the swift skills of rakshasa town planning, the city and kingdom of Lanka was to be a glittering jewel by the sea. Rama recommended that Vibhishana be installed on the throne, and so, preparations began in fervour.
Everyone wanted a celebration—monkeys, bears, rakshasas alike. Rama, Sita and Lakshmana were central to the rituals performed on the day of Vibhishana’s coronation. Even the rakshasas admitted there was a rhythm to life that they had not known before.
Just when Rama, Sita and Lakshmana were sitting watching the jubilant crowds from their apartment, Hanuman came with an urgent message. ‘It’s from Prince Bharatha.’ Rama read out aloud from the palm leaf: ‘The end of the fourteenth year fast approaches with the next new moon.
I have obeyed your instruction to rule the kingdom during your exile. I have done it in your name. If you do not return to rule this kingdom that has always been your right, I will build a funeral pyre that I will light and step into.
’ ‘We must hurry, otherwise, he will do it,’ Rama said, and all three of them leapt up. It was a long way from Lanka. If they returned to the route Rama’s armies came from India, it would take another season and that would be too late.
In any case, they hadn’t much to carry as they had no possessions. But when the time came to bid farewell to .