Behold, the host of simian warriors, once bowed by serpent-bonds of black enchantment, now rise in jubilant uproar. For Garutmanta, the eagle divine, hath loosed Rama and Lakshmana from Indrajit’s wicked snare. Strength renewed, spirits alight, their feet march with thunderous purpose, eyes bright with the fire of battle. Ravana, seated in his lofty palace,…
In the twilight of war, when the sky was thick with sorrow and the earth quaked beneath grief’s burden, King Sugreeva and his valiant host, mighty in arms and steadfast in loyalty, stood aghast, pierced by Indrajit’s cruel sorcery. Before them lay the sons of King Dasaratha, Rama and Lakshmana, on a bed of arrows,…
In the aftermath of battle, when the noble sons of Raghu lay strewn among the fallen — amid lifeless vanaras and vanquished rakshasas — a tremor of desolation seized the heart of Sita. Her gaze, shadowed by disbelief, fell upon the motionless forms of Rama and Lakshmana. How could such lions among men, bearers of…
A host of simian warriors, valiant and swift, rose like birds of fire into the vault of the sky, seeking the shadowy lair of Indrajit, son of Ravana—the wielder of dark arts—whose unseen arrows rained torment upon their hosts and struck even the noblest among them. Below, amidst the earth soaked in crimson grief, Rama…
Thus, came upon the fated dusk, a solemn turn in the grand saga of celestial strife—a momentous clash, not merely of flesh and steel, but of ancient principle and lawless ambition. Morality and wickedness met upon the field where cosmic order contended with unbridled chaos. The sun, in golden weariness, sank behind the western rim…
The demon hosts, cast into disarray, could no longer restrain the storming vanara legions whose fury shattered the silence of Lanka. Scattered in confusion, they fled in clusters, wailing to their king that the golden city was under siege. Ravana, lord of fearsome might, made swift arrangements to repel the threat. Ascending the towering ramparts…
In the days when dharma still wore the armor of kingship, the son of Daśaratha, Rāma the righteous, walked upon the shoulders of Mountain Suvela. Beside him strode Sugrīva, lord of the vānaras, and around them surged a multitude of monkey warriors whose forms shadowed the earth like clouds before a storm. From the circled…
On the sacred heights of Mount Savela, Rama, scion of the Ikshvaku line and embodiment of virtue, set foot with his valiant brother Lakshmana. The mountain shone with a splendour of its own—its crags and slopes glimmering with minerals, radiant in the hues of sun-kissed stone. Addressing the noble Sugreeva, steadfast in loyalty, and Vibhishana,…
In the deep abodes of Rasātala, where shadows stretched long and the bloodlines of daityas ran proud, there reigned three brothers born of Sukesha and Devavati—Mali, Sumāli, and the wise and battle-seasoned Malyavantha. Of these, only one now walked among the living, the venerable Malyavantha, a towering remnant of a bygone age. More than an…
The daughter of Janaka, Sita, felt a rush of joy as fate gently turned its wheel in her favour. The words of Sarama, like soft rains upon parched soil, brought solace to her weary heart. With a voice sweet as spring and a smile of hope, Sarama pledged her aid. She declared her power to…
