Among the mighty monkeys, Hanuman, the son of Vayu, noble and revered, listened as Sita, the chaste princess of Videha, spoke sorrowfully, weighed down by the pain of separation. With a calm and gentle voice, he offered comfort.
“O daughter of Janaka,” Hanuman said, “I come not as a stranger, but as the messenger of Rama, your lord, whose heart aches for you. He is well, as is the brave Lakshmana, who remains faithfully by his side. Lakshmana bows in respect and sends his greetings to you.”
Hearing of Rama’s well-being, a flicker of joy appeared through Sita’s grief. She spoke softly, with affection and grace.
“If a man lives, happiness will find him, even if delayed. This is the truth, enduring and sacred.”
Her trust awakened, Sita regarded Hanuman with a gentle sense of respect, and they began to speak with openness. Their words flowed naturally, grounded in sincerity.
But as Hanuman stepped closer, bringing only truth, not harm, doubt stirred within Sita’s mind. A troubling thought struck her: could this be Ravana, disguised as a monkey? The idea struck like a silent blow. Shaken, she sat down, overwhelmed once more by sorrow.
“What have I done?” she wondered. “Have I given everything away to a demon in disguise?”
In her growing despair, Sita turned her face away. She was filled with suspicion, her heart closed once again.
Hanuman, patient and composed, folded his hands in respect and prayed silently for her peace. Still, Sita refused to look at him.
Then, with the moonlight casting a glow across her face, Sita finally spoke, her voice quiet and uncertain.
“If you are Ravana in another disguise, then you only renew my suffering. This cruel trick deepens my pain. Yet… maybe my heart is mistaken. Somehow, your presence brings a glimmer of hope. If you truly are Rama’s messenger, then may you live long, noble monkey. I cherish Rama’s grace, his character, and the memory of his deeds. Tell me more about him—his form, his voice, his courage. Your words are like rain to the dry earth of my soul.”
She paused, then added, “Even in dreams, if I could see Rama or Lakshmana, I would find strength again. But dreams do not bring them. They say monkeys in dreams are a bad omen, but you bring comfort. Then why am I lost in doubt? Why can’t my heart tell friend from foe?”
She sat in silence again, her thoughts filled with caution. “Demons can take any form,” she reminded herself. “This too may be Ravana, using trickery.”
Her expression hardened, and she looked away from Hanuman.
Seeing her lost in fear, Hanuman stopped trying to convince her and instead spoke of Rama, raising his voice with devotion.
“Rama shines like the midday sun. He is as gentle as the moonlit night. He rules like Kubera and strikes like Vishnu. His courage is unmatched, his fame beyond compare. Truth is always on his lips, and his speech is wise and refined, like that of Brihaspati. In beauty, he surpasses even the god of love. Ravana used trickery to separate him from you and take you away. But such treachery cannot go unpunished—he will face the consequences.”
“That same Rama, strong and noble, has sent me to find you. His heart is broken by your absence. Lakshmana, loyal and steadfast, asks for your well-being. Even Sugreeva, king of the monkeys, waits for news of you.”
“You may be surrounded by demons, but the gods protect your life. Soon, you will see Rama, Lakshmana, and a great army of monkeys led by Sugreeva. I, Hanuman, son of the wind-God, have crossed the vast ocean and reached the heart of Lanka. By Rama’s grace and my own effort, I have come. Daughter of Janaka, do not fear. I am not a demon. Trust me.”
Though his words were true, Hanuman understood that regaining the trust of a wounded heart is no easy task. But through his honesty, humility, and unwavering devotion, he created a space of peace. His quiet strength became a lifeline—for Sita, for Rama, and for all who stood for righteousness.
Hanuman, wise and aware of the gravity of his mission, balanced strength with care. He proved that the trust placed in him was well deserved. In Sita’s eyes, the first light of hope returned—a sign that change was near.
The road ahead was once again illuminated. The mission would continue, and the story of dharma would move forward, full of purpose and glory.
