With bows slung over their shoulders, quivers brimming with arrows, and swords gleaming in the light, two noble warriors advanced with a majestic stride toward Mount Rishyamuka. Their formidable presence cast a shadow of dread upon Sugreeva, the son of Ruksharajas, and his gathered counsel. Uneasy, the monkey prince paced to and fro, his gaze shifting between the royal figures. Their countenances bore an air of reassurance, yet the weight of suspicion lay heavy upon him.
Surveying their robust sinews and high stature, Sugreeva murmured, “These are men of royal descent, warriors of exceptional might. Yet, clad in ascetic robes with matted locks, they appear as wandering hermits—perhaps a mere guise. Could they be mercenaries, summoned by Vali to end my existence?”
Overcome with doubt, Sugreeva and his companions leaped to the higher peaks of the mountain, seeking refuge from the uncertain threat posed by the alien visitors. Encircling their prince in vigilant defense, they sprang from crag to crag, their swift and chaotic movements striking unease into the hearts of all who beheld them. Their thundering footfalls sent tremors rippling through the mountains, dislodging great boulders and stirring the wild beasts from their lairs. Towering trees were wrenched from their roots, while stags, tigers, and feral cats scattered in frenzy, their cries echoing through the dense wilderness. A tempest of fear was thus conjured by the monkey warriors, ensuring any approaching force would be delayed in countering their tumultuous defense.
Then, amidst the din, Hanuman—peerless in wisdom and unparalleled in strength—spoke with serene clarity, “Sugreeva, my prince, let not unfounded fear cloud your mind. This is Mount Malaya, where Vali’s strength is diminished. He is not present here, nor can his cruelty reach us. O Prince of noble spirit, I discern no sign of deceit or malice in these warriors. Your apprehension is misplaced. You, who are a king, must not allow fear to unseat reason. Strengthen your resolve and seek the truth before yielding to dread. A sovereign must possess steadfast judgment and a mind unshaken, lest he fail his subjects.”
Sugreeva listened intently, yet doubt still lingered. “Hanuman, noble as your words may be, who would not tremble at the sudden arrival of such warriors? They are mighty, armed, and regal in bearing. Could Vali not have sought the aid of a powerful king to vanquish me? Monarchs hold alliances that span realms, and for them, quelling a fugitive such as I am but a trifling endeavor. We must tread with caution. O Hanuman, go forth in disguise. Observe their demeanor, listen to their speech, and ascertain their intent. If they are noble in spirit, approach them with courtesy and sweetness. Once trust is secured, inquire plainly— ‘For what purpose have you ventured into this wilderness?’ O son of Anjani, discern whether their mission is righteous and fair, for in speech, one’s true heart is revealed.”
Obedient to his king’s command, Hanuman, the embodiment of strength and wisdom, descended from the heights of Mount Rishyamuka. Concealing his true form, he assumed the guise of an unassuming hermit and approached the warriors with humility. In carefully measured words, he greeted them with reverence, bowing deeply in respect.
“By your radiant presence, you seem no ordinary men, but Rajarshis—royal sages, divine in aspect. Though garbed as ascetics, your noble bearing betrays a lineage of kings. Your visages are fair, your forms luminous, and even the wild beasts of the forest cower before your advance. Pray, tell me, what calls you to this desolate wood? The hermits and dwellers of these lands tremble at your warrior-like presence, for you are strong, armed, and resolute. Your gaze is that of lions poised for battle, your bows arched like Indra’s celestial bow, and your quivers bristle with fearsome arrows, imbued with divine might.
Who are you, O warriors whose brilliance graces this sacred mountain? Your sinews bear the marks of battle, your shoulders broad as those of mighty bulls, your hands strong as an elephant’s trunk. By all that I see, you are destined to rule the world. Tell me, lords of noble bearing, what brings you to this place? It is rare to behold warriors of such radiance clad in the robes of hermits. It seems as though the sun and moon themselves have descended upon the earth in disguise.
Your presence stirs the air with the fervor of a lion poised for the hunt, the power of a bull ready to charge. You are no ordinary wanderers but warriors of renown. These bows you bear gleam like Indra’s thunderbolt, and your swords, sharp and relentless, resemble the very tongues of Yama, the god of death. Speak, I implore you! For I, Hanuman, minister to the exiled prince Sugreeva, have come as his emissary.
Sugreeva, a sovereign true of heart, was cast from his kingdom by his merciless brother, Vali, and now seeks refuge upon this mountain. He, who is fair-minded and just, desires alliance and friendship with you. As his humble envoy, I have come in this guise, sent by my lord to discern your purpose. Know that I am Hanuman, son of Vayu, blessed with the gift of flight and transformation at will. My sole intent is to serve my king and ensure his well-being.”
Thus speaking, Hanuman fell silent, awaiting their reply.
Hearing these words, Rama, pleased by the eloquence and sincerity of the monkey minister, turned to Lakshmana and said, “Behold, Lakshmana! This Hanuman, Sugreeva’s emissary, is no ordinary being. He is adept in expression, his speech pure and refined. His manner is friendly, yet formidable to foes. Address him with the highest courtesy, for he is a minister of great wisdom.
No man unversed in the Rigveda, Yajurveda, and Samaveda could speak with such clarity and grace. His words are precise, his meaning unambiguous, his discourse both sweet and profound. His facial expressions are truthful, his gaze unwavering in sincerity. His entire bearing befits that of a great Vedic scholar. Every syllable he utters flows seamlessly, without discord or error. Even an enemy, upon hearing his gentle words, would be soothed into peace.
O Lakshmana, a king’s fortune is bound to his ministers, and a ruler with such an emissary shall never falter in his pursuits.”
Lakshmana, absorbing Rama’s wisdom, turned to Hanuman with due reverence. “O, Son of Vayu, scholar of the highest order! We know of Sugreeva and have indeed come in search of him. Your words are golden, and your mission noble. We shall follow your counsel and forge bonds of friendship with your king.”
Hearing Lakshmana’s words, Hanuman’s heart swelled with joy. A new tide had turned—the fated meeting of man and monkey had set into motion a divine orchestration, wherein alliances were forged, destinies intertwined, and the grand design of the cosmos began to unfold.
Thus commenced a union that would echo through the ages—a melody of dharma, valor, and universal harmony composed in the sacred lands where men and vanaras joined hands in purpose.