The spirit of the simian warriors soared, emboldened by the unwavering guidance and tangible revelations bestowed by the mighty bird Sampati. His counsel proved invaluable to the weary and dejected company scouring the vast lands for Sita. At last, they arrived at the ocean’s edge, where they stood in awe, struck silent by the boundless expanse before them—a mirror of the world’s immeasurable vastness.
The strongest among them now faced their ultimate test. Lined up in solemn order, their eyes scanned the surging waters where colossal creatures roamed, stirring the depths with their formidable presence. Crocodiles of monstrous size, whales of unfathomable bulk, sharks swift as death itself, and serpentine water-beasts moved unrestrained, shattering the waves into torrents of chaos. The sea, ever-changing in temperament, appeared playful in one moment, serene in another, yet menacing in its heart—a realm where waves rose like towering mountains in some places and charged like galloping steeds in others. The ocean’s immensity rivaled the heavens, and the warriors’ enthusiasm faltered, waning beneath the oppressive realization of the impossible task before them.
Murmurs of uncertainty spread through their ranks. The peril of crossing such a formidable expanse loomed large, and their spirits, once aflame, now flickered in the winds of despair. But Angada, son of Vali, roused them with words both fierce and wise. “Warriors!” he declared, “this is no time for sorrow to take root. The burden placed upon us is sacred, decreed by our king, and we must not falter in our duty. Cast away despair and steel your hearts! This is the moment to prove your valor!”
Through the night, anxiety warred with resolve in their minds. Angada, radiant as Indra among gods, knew that only he or Hanuman could rouse the warriors from their despondency. Addressing the seasoned veterans among them, he spoke with purpose. “Who among you possesses the strength and skill to traverse this ocean and uphold Sugriva’s oath? Who will rise to the call, conquer this challenge, and deliver us from fear and failure? Whose might will bear us toward our destined path, restoring our honor before Rama, Lakshmana, and our sovereign? This deed shall not only bring glory but also serve as a divine boon to your kin, preserving the unbroken legacy of our race!”
Yet none dared to answer. Silence reigned, for even the bravest hesitated before the churning abyss. Again, Angada urged them: “You, who are the best among the strong and the bold, are of celestial descent, honored by kings, gods, and sages alike! You who roam the skies unfettered, tell me—how far can you soar?”
Thus emboldened, the mighty warriors stepped forth, each proclaiming his prowess. Gaja, firm in voice, vowed he could traverse a hundred miles. Gavaksha, with ease, claimed two hundred. Sarabha, unshaken, declared three hundred. Rishabha, brimming with confidence, boasted four hundred. Gandhamadana, unwavering, pledged five hundred, while Mainda and Dwivida, twin titans, assured they could reach eight hundred. Then Sushena, resolute, promised to cover eight hundred and fifty in a single bound.
At last, the venerable Jambavan spoke. “Once,” he reminisced, “in my prime, I circled the world twenty-one times with the force of a tempest. When Vishnu, in his Vamana form, strode across the cosmos, I circumambulated him in reverence. But age has wearied my limbs, and I cannot summon the strength to span a thousand miles. Yet this task must not fail, for the will of Sugriva must be fulfilled.”
Angada, noble of spirit, rose with conviction. “I can surpass a thousand miles,” he proclaimed, “but I fear I may lack the strength to return.”
Jambavan, wise and discerning, addressed him with reverence. “Prince of the vanaras! Your prowess is unmatched; indeed, you could conquer the skies themselves. Yet it is not fitting for you to undertake this journey. You are our leader, the pillar upon which we stand. To risk yourself would be a transgression against the very order of kingship. A ruler must be shielded by his warriors, not sent forth in peril. You are our prince, and we are bound to deliver you safely back to Sugriva and Tara. The root of any great mission must be preserved, lest the endeavor itself wither.”
Angada pondered these words, his mind torn between duty and resolve. “If I do not go,” he mused aloud, “and no one else proves capable, Sugriva’s wrath shall be upon us. He is a just king, but relentless in governance. I see no alternative.”
But Jambavan, unwavering in wisdom, reassured him. “Fear not, brave prince. Our mission shall not falter. The one destined for this task is among us, and I shall awaken him now.”
Thus, with steady steps, Jambavan approached Hanuman, who sat in meditative stillness, a beacon of unshaken tranquility amid the storm of doubt. In his serene presence, Jambavan saw the embodiment of boundless strength, the very force that would turn the tide of destiny. His words, steeped in wisdom, would soon set forth a miracle—a triumph ordained by fate, heralding the dawn of universal balance.