The strong and mighty Vanaras surrounded the son of Vayu, Hanuman, atop Mount Mahendra, their spirits high and hearts eager. Among them, the wise and venerable warrior Jambavan, filled with joy, addressed Hanuman, who was devoted to Lord Rama and deeply concerned for Sita, with a warm request:
“Dear Hanuman, tell us about your journey to Lanka. Did you see Devi Sita? How is she faring? How is that cruel demon Ravana treating her? Once we hear your tale, we can decide our next course of action—what should be conveyed to King Sugreeva, and what should be held back, with wisdom and care.”
With folded hands, Hanuman bowed reverently and prayed to Sita Devi in his heart, before beginning his tale.
“With a firm resolve to reach the southern shore, I soared into the sky. Midway through my journey, a golden mountain suddenly rose before me. Thinking it an obstacle, I prepared to destroy it. But just as I was about to strike, I heard a gentle voice:
‘Dear one, I am Mainaka, friend of Vayu and like a father to you. In ancient times, mountains had wings and would fly across the skies, causing great disturbances. At the request of the sages, Indra clipped their wings and fixed them in place. Your father Vayu, saved me and placed me in the ocean’s depths. Today, I rise to offer you rest and help in your mission for Rama.’
I thanked him and continued on my journey, soon encountering Surasa Devi, the mother of serpents. She blocked my path and declared, ‘By my boon, you must enter my mouth before you go further.’ I respectfully explained my mission and pleaded with her. But she insisted. So, I grew in size, and so did she. Then, understanding her divine nature, I quickly shrank, entered her mouth, and exited before she could react.
Pleased with my wit, she blessed me: ‘O Vanara, your mission is noble. May you succeed and meet Sita soon.’
As I soared onward, a strange force pulled me down. Looking below, I saw a terrifying demoness emerging from the waters—Simhika—dragging me by my shadow. She tried to devour me, opening her jaws wider than my form. Instantly, I shrank, descended with force, and blocked her breath from within. She collapsed and died in the ocean.
I continued undeterred and reached the shores of Lanka at sunset. I shrank to a tiny form to avoid detection and entered the city stealthily. At the gate stood a fierce demoness, who tried to attack me. With a swift slap, I knocked her down. She rose and said, ‘I am Lankini, the guardian of this city. You have defeated me. Surely, you will defeat all these demons. Proceed with your task.’
I explored the city’s mansions, gardens, and lakes. At last, in the Ashoka grove, beneath a Simsupa tree, I saw the radiant and sorrowful Sita, surrounded by cruel demonesses who tormented her constantly. I watched from above in my tiny form.
Soon, Ravana arrived with his retinue. Sita trembled with fear. He tried to entice her to become his queen, but she sternly warned him that Rama would be his end. Ravana threatened, ‘If you do not yield in two months, you shall die.’ Sita replied with fire in her voice, ‘Your tongue will fall for speaking such insults. You are a sinner and a coward. You kidnapped me while Rama and Lakshmana were away—otherwise, you would have been slain. Rama is virtuous, divine, and a peerless archer. Your doom is near.’
Enraged, Ravana was about to act, but his wife Dhanyamali intervened and led him away. The demonesses resumed their torment. Among them, one noble soul, Trijata, spoke of a dream: ‘If Sita joins Rama, the demon race will perish. Let us seek her mercy—she is our only hope.’
Sita assured her, ‘What you said will come true. I shall save you from Rama’s arrows.’
Moved by all this, I decided to reveal myself. I sang praises of the Ikshvaku dynasty from my perch. Sita looked up and asked, ‘Who are you, O Vanara?’
I told her of Sugreeva’s alliance with Rama and introduced myself as Hanuman, Rama’s emissary. I showed her Rama’s signet ring, and she wept with joy. I offered to carry her back, but she said Rama must come himself, defeat Ravana, and take her with honor. She gave me a head ornament to present to Rama and asked me to tell him she had only two months left to live.
Bowing to her, I prepared to leave, but her sorrow ignited my fury. I grew to my immense form and destroyed the Ashoka grove. The demonesses fled and informed Ravana.
Ravana sent troops to capture me—I killed them all. He sent his generals, his ministers’ sons, and even elite warriors, all of whom fell in battle. Then came Akshakumara, who fought bravely but met his end. Finally, Ravana sent his son Indrajit. I laid waste to his forces but was eventually captured by his Brahmastra.
Bound and brought before Ravana, I declared, ‘I am Hanuman, son of Vayu, emissary of Sugreeva, sent by Rama. Sugreeva asks you to return Sita with honor and seek refuge. Rama is compassionate, but if you do not yield, your end is certain.’
Ravana ordered my execution, but his brother, the righteous Vibhishana, intervened. He reminded them that killing an envoy was against dharma. Instead, Ravana ordered my tail to be burned.
Demons wrapped it in cloth and set it ablaze. They paraded me through Lanka, but I shrank, broke my bonds, grew again, and, wielding a massive iron rod, laid waste to the city. I spared Vibhishana’s house out of respect. But then a fear struck me—had Sita been harmed in the fire?
Just then, celestial beings from the sky assured me: ‘Sita is unharmed. Your mission is noble. You have struck fear into Ravana’s heart.’
By Sita’s grace, though my tail burned, I felt no pain. I returned to her, overjoyed to see her safe. She blessed me, and I departed, my heart filled with Rama’s strength.
I have completed the mission entrusted to me. Now, dear warriors, it is time for us to act.”
Hanuman’s tale filled the Vanaras with confidence and joy. Prince Angada prepared to decide the next steps. The air grew fragrant with the scent of fruits and honey, the breeze gentle and cool. Flowers rained down on the Vanaras, as if the heavens themselves were celebrating this divine moment. A great course of action was soon to unfold, destined to shape the fate of the world.
