Sugreeva, the noble Vanara king, drew before Rama a bold vision of the coming course, balanced with a prudent path of action regarding the formidable island of Lanka. The moment was delicate. The simian warriors, their hearts aflame with courage, stood eager to plunge into the task with storm-like swiftness. Yet Sugreeva, wise in the art of leadership, knew that the temper of a commander governs the spirit of the field. If the leader falters, all is lost to despair.
Therefore, he impressed upon Rama this critical truth: if the source of turmoil is contained at the helm, it shall not trickle down to the ranks. This task was not one of mere will—it was a labour of strategy, delicate and complex, to preserve harmony among all who stood bound to this vast and arduous campaign.
Rama, hearing the words of his ally, gave his assent. “Your counsel is just, Sugreeva, and your thoughts I do embrace,” said the prince of Raghu’s line. Then, turning to Hanuman, he spoke thus:
“O Hanuman, I may enter Lanka by the fire of Tapas, or by the force of arms, or by casting my divine arrows to drain the ocean’s tide. Yet, wisdom dictates we prepare by knowledge. Tell me, as you have seen with your own eyes: how many forts guard Lanka? How strong are her gates? What are the other defences? Speak clearly of their design, the strength of their army, the layout of their homes, their readiness for assault, their weapons, and the manner of their training. You are well-versed to narrate these truths. The time has come to shape our final strategy.”
Thus, called upon, Hanuman, the mighty son of the wind-God, began his solemn account, for now stood the turning point in Rama’s divine war against the demon world.
“O Prince,” Hanuman began, “Lanka is no ordinary city. She stands mighty upon a mountain’s peak, shielded by layers of nature and craft alike. Her walls are high, wrought of gold and studded with gems. Four great gates guard her—their breadth vast, their locks iron-willed. Upon them hang weapons both for use and for show: tridents, arrows, spiked balls, and iron stones. Machines are fixed at key posts to hurl death from afar—catapults, cannons, and contraptions the like of which few have seen.
Demons, trained without flaw, stand ready at each point to unleash these tools of war. Even the gods would find their advance hindered by such weapons. Around the city runs a deep moat filled with water—a grid swarming with monstrous fish and swift-moving crocodiles that devour any intruder, be a man, a demon, an elephant, or a horse. Strong bridges stretch over these waters, and along them stand more catapults and soldiers. Guard-houses rise above the moat, ever alert, ever watching.
And beyond all, nature has formed her layers of defenses: the mountain that upholds the city—a mountain fort; the dense forests that encircle it—a forest fort; the rivers and water channels—a river fort; and the mighty works of Ravana—a man-made fort. No ship may reach this secluded isle, nor can messages be sent or received. Isolated, she stands like a second Amaravati upon the earth.
As to the forces within, on the eastern gate stand ten thousand soldiers bearing tridents. On the south, one hundred thousand more. On the west, a million sword-wielding warriors trained in all parts of war. On the north, ten million strong, with chariots, horses, and elephants in array. At the city’s heart lies the central force—one crore in number—undefeated and invincible, standing in defiance of their king.
Their confidence rests on two pillars: their unmatched training and the singular leadership of Ravana, who personally oversees and inspires them. Halls of state, dwellings of warrior nobles, and palaces of power lie within high protection.
Yet, I, Hanuman, have breached parts of their defences. I broke the bridges. I clogged the water-grid with trees and stone. I shattered one wing of their valorous host. And thus, I say, the ocean shall be crossed, and Lanka shall be brought low.
O Rama! Besides the valiant Vanaras at your side, there are warriors such as Angada, Mainda, Jambavantha, Panasa, Anala, and the brave chief Neela. They can soar the skies, hurl down trees and stones, and break through every gate of Lanka, leaving it bare to conquest.
Give the word, and let the armies assemble at the sacred hour. My report shall serve not only to inform, but to shape the very architecture of war. Even a common king could devise a great plan with such detail—what then of one like you, O Rama? A hero, a strategist, a divine visionary?
Thus, shall knowledge become action. And action, under your hand, shall give rise to destiny. So shall the cosmic order be restored.”
