As Hanuman soared through the sky, his immense form cleaved the air with the force of a tempest. The flowers, caught in his mighty wake, clung briefly to his colossal body before drifting downward, settling upon the ocean’s surface like a constellation of stars scattered across the vast waters. The entwining creepers, their blossoms of varied hues, wrapped around his frame, forming an ethereal aura, as if lightning danced upon a looming storm cloud.
At his tremendous speed, petals and vines cascaded into the sea, their descent mirroring the shimmer of celestial bodies upon the restless tide. His powerful arms, outstretched to the heavens, bore semblance to the five-hooded serpent, gliding effortlessly through the ether. It seemed as though he commanded both sky and ocean, an unchallenged sovereign of the elements. His eyes, ablaze like twin fireballs, flashed against the darkness of the firmament, resembling lightning piercing a brooding mountain. Those deep, green orbs, round and luminous, outshone even the sun and moon in their youthful tenderness. His crimson nose, radiant as the twilight glow, added to the spectacle of his divine presence.
Ascending higher still, his tail shot upward, proud and unwavering, like the celestial banner of mighty Indra. Though vast in form, with gleaming fangs bared in might, his flight was guided by wisdom as much as strength. To maintain his course, he curled his tail in a perfect arc, steadying himself as a veiled sun peeks through storm-laden clouds. The ores and gemstones buried within his sinews, when struck by the force of wind, cast forth glimmers of red, black, and crimson, draping his figure in the brilliance of a mountainous colossus adorned with the treasures of the earth.
The very air trembled as it whistled through his limbs, a thunderous symphony heralding his passage. To distant eyes, he seemed as a meteor blazing from the northern heavens to the southern reaches, an astral force defying all restraint. His ceaseless momentum created the illusion of a being suspended mid-flight, his form luminous and immense, drifting perpetually through the boundless expanse. To those unknowing of his nature, it seemed as though a resplendent and weighty mass floated across the heavens, radiating an aura of divine purpose.
His velocity rivalled that of Aditya himself, and the golden chains adorning his waist and shoulders gleamed like those upon a mighty war-elephant. His shadow, cast upon the sky, moved in steady grace, resembling a celestial vessel gliding across the heavens. Beneath him, the ocean raged in response, stirred by the sheer force of his passage, its waters rising in tumultuous waves as if yearning to reach him. Wherever he flew, the sea beneath him swelled with agitation, its tides surging in awe of his power.
His shadow, spanning leagues upon the ocean’s surface, moved as a great celestial shade, akin to drifting clouds bound in rhythmic motion. His form, vast and radiant, resembled a mountain with wings, a titan among the elements. As he cleaved through the skies, the very air bore the markings of his path, a furrow drawn upon the heavens by the hand of Vayu’s own son. The clouds, stirred by his flight, stretched in streaks of white, red, black, and green, trailing behind him like a divine chariot in pursuit of Garuda himself. Each bound of his mighty leap through the shifting cloudbanks wove an intricate dance upon the firmament, like the moon slipping in and out of a silvered mist.
In answer to his unwavering devotion, the sun’s scorching rays softened, granting him passage without hindrance. The fierce winds, in reverence, tempered their force, embracing him in a soothing caress, easing his celestial sojourn. It seemed as if the very cosmos conspired in favour of Rama’s cause, aligning itself to honour the noble purpose of Hanuman’s flight.
Witnessing this wondrous journey, sages and seers marvelled at Hanuman’s valour, their voices raised in praise of his indomitable spirit. Even the Gandharvas and divine beings, once fearful of Lanka’s might, now found solace in the realization that a warrior of such unparalleled prowess was descending upon the fortress of their dread. The ease with which he traversed the heavens astounded even the Yakshas, the serpents, and the celestial beings who watched in silent admiration.
The lord of the ocean, stirred by the righteousness of Hanuman’s mission, resolved to offer aid. His heart, bound by gratitude to the noble lineage of Ikshvaku, found itself duty-bound to honour the emissary of Rama. “If I fail to render my assistance in this holy endeavour,” he thought, “my neglect shall be etched in the annals of time as a stain upon my name.” For was it not the great King Sagara of the Ikshvaku dynasty who had sanctified these very waters with the virtue of his deeds? And was not Rama, their noble descendant, worthy of the ocean’s allegiance? Hanuman, the messenger of righteousness, could not be left to toil unaided.
Thus, the ocean deity turned to the golden mountain, Mainaka, who lay concealed within the depths, and addressed him with reverence. “O sacred mountain, once placed here by mighty Indra to guard the worlds from the demons’ ascent, your presence has remained unyielding against the tides of time. Now, I bid you rise from these waters and offer respite to the valiant Hanuman. For the Ikshvakus are venerable to both you and me, and aiding their cause shall be met with the highest favour of the divine. Let this act be a tribute to Rama’s righteousness, a gesture of honour in service of dharma.”
Moved by the ocean god’s words, Mainaka heeded the call. With a tremor that shook the deep, he ascended, his golden peaks bursting forth from the waves, shining with the radiance of a hundred suns. Life flourished upon his slopes, and his dazzling crest, adorned with nature’s bounty, glowed with an ethereal brilliance.
Yet Hanuman, ever resolute in his purpose, mistook this sudden emergence for an obstacle to his mission. Unyielding, he expanded his form and, with the force of his mighty chest, struck the mountain aside. Mainaka, awestruck by the sheer power of Hanuman’s will, took on a celestial form and addressed him with reverence.
“O noble warrior, your task is one of unparalleled difficulty, and I bid you rest upon my summit, that you may regain your strength before continuing your journey. The ocean itself, in gratitude to the Ikshvakus, has sought to honour you. To receive aid is not to falter, but to honour the bonds of righteousness. Even the greatest deeds are accomplished not alone, but through the harmony of all elements.
You have travelled four hundred miles, and six hundred more remain ahead. Pause but for a moment, partake of the fruits and waters of my peaks, and then continue your course with renewed vigour. Your mission is sacred, your purpose unwavering, and all creation watches in awe as you soar through the heavens.”
With these words, Mainaka revealed a truth of ages past. “In the golden age, all mountains bore wings, roaming the skies with the swiftness of Garuda himself. But their boundless flight struck terror into the hearts of sages and celestial beings, who feared their descent might bring destruction upon the land. Indra, in his wrath, severed their wings with his thunderbolt, sparing none. Yet Vayu, with mercy, bore me away to safety, preserving my freedom. To honour that divine act, I now extend my gratitude to you, his noble son.
O Hanuman, scion of boundless virtue! The very cosmos aligns itself with your cause. Strength, faith, and righteous purpose have always been the guiding forces of dharma. And as long as courage and wisdom walk hand in hand, even the most arduous journey shall find its destined triumph.”
