Rama at Sage Bharadwaja's Ashram

The ashram sat at the sacred sangam where two great rivers merged. Sage Bharadwaja, his body worn by decades of tapas but his eyes bright with inner fire, welcomed the exiled prince with the hospitality reserved for honored guests.

"Prince Rama, I have seen your coming in meditation. Please, rest here as long as you wish. This ashram and everything in it is at your service."

Rama touched the sage's feet. "Revered one, we seek only your blessing and guidance. Our path leads deeper into the forest."

After they had eaten and rested, Bharadwaja spoke privately with Rama. "You accept exile with remarkable calm. Most princes would rage against such injustice."

"What would rage accomplish, sage? The situation is as it is. My energy is better spent walking the path than cursing the destination."

Bharadwaja smiled. "You have wisdom beyond your years. But tell me, Rama - do you never question? Never wonder why dharma demands such sacrifice from those who uphold it?"

Rama was thoughtful. "I question constantly. I wonder every day. But questioning and refusing are different things. I question to understand, not to avoid."

"And what have you understood?"

"That dharma is not about fairness in the moment. It is about order across time. If I refuse exile because it seems unfair, I teach others that promises can be broken when keeping them is inconvenient. If I accept it, I teach that a person's word is sacred, regardless of personal cost."

Bharadwaja nodded slowly. "You speak like a sage already. Tell me - do you believe your exile will end well?"

"I believe it will end as it should end. Whether that is what I would call 'well' - I cannot say. But I trust that dharma has its own logic, even when I cannot see it."

"And Sita? She has given up palace life to follow you into hardship."

Rama's face softened with love. "Sita follows her own dharma. I tried to convince her to stay, but she understood something I was too proud to admit: that her presence is not a burden but a blessing. That in exile, we need each other more, not less."

"The love between you is rare, Prince. Guard it carefully. The forest will test you in ways the palace never could."

"I know. But I believe that tests strengthen those who pass them. Sita and I will emerge from these fourteen years more united than ever - or we were never truly united to begin with."

Bharadwaja blessed them, touching their heads with sacred water. "Go, then, into the forest. Know that sages throughout the land watch your journey with hope. You carry more than your own fate, Rama. You carry an example that will teach generations yet unborn."

As they departed, Rama felt the weight of those words. An example. A teaching. Perhaps that was the true purpose of exile - not punishment, but education, for all who would hear the story in ages to come.