In the deep and desolate recesses of Lanka’s grand palace, Hanuman resolved to conduct a thorough and unwavering search. With silent steps and keen eyes, he moved through the labyrinthine corridors, where darkness lay heavy like a shroud. Yet, as he ventured deeper, he beheld a radiance akin to the tender glow of the morning sun—a sign that he had drawn near to the inner sanctum of the demon king.
A thought struck him—it was likely the private chambers of Ravana, leading to the harem and the fabled gardens of opulence. Yet, all around, fierce demons stood as sentinels, armed to the teeth, guarding the palace with the vigilance of lions protecting their dominion. As Hanuman observed, he was awestruck by the grandeur manifesting in every inch of the halls.
The palace gates, carved of gleaming silver, shone like the full moon, while golden doors, studded with diamonds and sapphires, stood as testaments to unbridled wealth. Atop these gates, rubies and emeralds sparkled in resplendent splendor. Curtains woven with pearls, coral, and rare gems adorned the passageways, while gentle breezes played upon tiny bells, creating melodies that whispered through ivory-framed windows.
Every artifact was placed with masterful precision, exuding an aesthetic of divine craftsmanship. Towering demons, colossal in form and armed with mighty weapons, sat atop war elephants, ever watchful and ready for battle. Commanders in chariots, bedecked in gold and silver, patrolled the grounds, ensuring the fortress remained impregnable.
The chariots themselves were marvels, crafted from rare materials, they bore exquisite decorations of gold and gems. Shields, maces, tridents, bows, and quivers lay in abundance. The shields, made of metal and tiger skin, were gilded with silver and gold, while saddles of pure leather gleamed with embedded sapphires. Whether stationary or in motion, the chariots shimmered with a brilliance reminiscent of sacred fire rituals.
Hanuman beheld grand thrones reserved for the maharathis—warriors capable of vanquishing thousands of archers in the heat of battle. Magnificent golden seats, adorned with gems, stood in the courtyards. Yet, to his great astonishment, there lay within the palace a vast enclosure, a sanctuary of nature where countless birds, beasts, and serpents coexisted—a microcosm of the world itself. The fortress walls echoed with the chirping of birds, the quacking of ducks, and the lively gambols of creatures, lending the air a music both wondrous and surreal.
The palace guards stood disciplined, while noblewomen, adorned in the finest embellishments, moved with grace and dignity. The air was thick with melodies—songs from the halls mingled with the distant roar of the ocean, creating an atmosphere rare and celestial. Regal umbrellas and fans, symbols of imperial grandeur, lay scattered throughout. The very breeze carried a fragrance so divine; it seemed as though clouds of scented ether drifted through the palace corridors.
Men and women, strong and resolute, moved with the majesty of lions in their prime. On the far side of the hall, conches and drums resounded, their music imbued with a sublime power, played by the Vidyadharas—celestial musicians of unparalleled skill.
Pressing onward, Hanuman reached a courtyard of sacred solemnity. Here, fire pits burned with offerings, and the air vibrated with the sonorous chants of Sama Veda hymns, recited by demon priests well-versed in the rituals of Ravana and Kumbhakarna. On every auspicious occasion—Purnima, Amavasya, and Ekadashi—sacred rites were performed with unwavering devotion.
Beyond this, he discovered a hall of immense proportions, its silence profound. The walls were carved with masterful artistry, and the ceiling was encrusted with vast gemstones—diamonds the size of bricks, rubies large as coconuts, and sapphires of rare dimensions. The very roof shimmered with a kaleidoscope of colors, casting a brilliance beyond mortal imagination. Hanuman felt certain—this was the very jewel of Lanka, and he had drawn near to Ravana’s own chambers.
Moving swiftly, he navigated from one courtyard to another, peering into every open garden and passageway. Fearless and agile, he leaped across rooftops, searching the mansions of Ravana’s key generals—Prahastha, Mahaparshva, Mahodara, Virupaksha, Vidyutjihva, and Vidyutmali. He scoured their domains with meticulous scrutiny before proceeding to the formidable stronghold of Kumbhakarna.
He then reached the halls and groves of Vibhishana, noting their marked difference from the rest. Confidence swelled within him—he was at the very heart of Lanka’s imperial complex.
Hanuman pressed on, stealthily inspecting the residences of Ravana’s spies, Suka and Sarana. He then ventured to the magnificent palace of Indrajit, the formidable son of Ravana, where a meticulous search of every chamber ensued. Moving through the dwellings of key demons—Jambumali, Sumali, Rasmiketu, Vajrakaya—he encountered warriors of terrifying prowess, masters of war and statecraft.
Finally, he entered the quarters of Lanka’s military strategists and tacticians—the mighty Dhumraksha, Sampati, Vidyutrupa, Bheema, Ghana, Vighana, Brahmakarna, Romaka, Dwajagreeva, and Sonitaksha. Their dwellings, too, he examined with unyielding resolve, his mind ever fixed upon his mission.
His tireless search brought him at last to Ravana’s own sanctum. There, amidst an eerie silence, he beheld a colossal figure sleeping deeply, guarded by ferocious demonesses wielding formidable weapons. Around him stood fierce sentinels, their eyes burning with an ominous glow.
Beyond the chamber, Hanuman spied stables filled with warhorses of white, red, and brown, their breath heavy with the scent of battle. Mighty elephants, armored for war, stood in disciplined ranks, their tusks adorned with gilded shields. The horses neighed, their trumpeting akin to rolling thunder.
A thousand warriors, armed and ready, gleamed like the rays of the sun. In grand pavilions, richly decorated palanquins stood poised for the king’s command. Throughout the complex, resting quarters, banquet halls, and training arenas for warriors were meticulously arranged, embodying Lanka’s formidable might.
From the outside, the palace stood like Mount Mandara, akin to Kubera’s fabled citadel. Nestled within was a celestial garden teeming with peacocks and fowls, their voices filling the air in harmonious symphony. Everywhere, gemstones were embedded in the walls, casting an ethereal glow. The very light of Lanka seemed an extension of Ravana’s power, mingling with the radiance of his golden adornments.
Gold plates, vessels, and ornaments adorned the halls, where demons drank honey from bejeweled goblets. The splendor of these chambers rivaled the courts of the wealth-god Kubera himself. Women of diverse origins—Yakshas, Gandharvas, Kinnaras, and Vidyadharas—moved gracefully, their anklets chiming melodies that resonated through the palace, evoking an atmosphere of divine grandeur.
Hanuman, wading through boundless opulence, kept his focus unshaken. His sole purpose was to fulfill his mission. The very heavens seemed to guide his steps, while the grace of Rama and the spirit of Sugriva lent him strength. Undeterred, he pressed forward, for the fate of the world rested upon his quest.
