Rama was gladdened by the honest and forthright report concerning Lanka, now steeped in demonic dominion. He found solace too in Sītā’s noble words, wherein she had declared that Rāma must vanquish the demon king and take her back with honour.
Rāma then spoke thus:
“Hanumān’s deed is of the rarest kind—none could have achieved it. Garuḍa, Vāyu, and Hanumān alone may traverse such mighty oceans. At this juncture, I cannot conceive of another who could replicate his feat. The fortress of Laṅkā, protected by asuras and sealed from even gods, Yakṣas, Gandharvas, Kinnaras, and Uragas, was entered by Hanumān alone, unharmed and undeterred.
Laṅkā, defended well by daemonic might, was penetrated by none other than Hanumān through his own strength and valour. None but the son of Vāyu could have accomplished this. He has truly shown that his spirit is in perfect alignment with the honesty of his service to Sugrīva.
When a master assigns a difficult task, the servant who performs it with care and skill is deemed the best. One who is capable and intelligent but performs inadequately is seen as better. Yet he who lacks commitment despite ability is counted inferior. But Hanumān, in each step he took, acted with full responsibility, uplifting the honour of his master while never seeking to exalt himself.
By seeing Sītā and returning with tidings of her safety, Hanumān has preserved my life, that of mighty Lakṣmaṇa, and indeed the dignity of the entire Raghu dynasty. Yet, I have no means to adequately reward him. The news he has brought is life itself to me, and I ponder deeply how such service might ever be repaid.
To such a noble soul as Hanumān, I offer a heartfelt embrace.”
So said Rāma with trembling limbs, and he took Hanuman into his arms with tender affection.
After a moment of reflection, Rāma addressed Sugriva and the gathered chiefs:
“You have indeed dispatched this mission with great integrity. I am filled with joy upon hearing of Sita’s safety—like rain on parched earth. Yet my heart trembles: how shall we cross this vast ocean? How shall our monkey warriors set foot on the southern shores? This anxiety overshadows even my courage.”
Thus, Rāma’s valour, for a brief moment, gave way to worry, and the son of Dasharatha pondered deeply. Then the radiant son of Aditya, with unshaken resolve, said:
“O Rāma, cast aside this sorrow and despair as one abandons a false and selfish friend. We now know Sita’s whereabouts and her well-being. Then what need is there for grief?
You are wise, learned, and resolute. Take heart, regain your composure, and determine the right path forward. Let faith take root in your heart, for we shall cross this ocean filled with whales and crocodiles, reach Lanka, and swiftly destroy your enemy.
When enthusiasm falters, thought scatters, and thus follows failure. But the vānaras around us are brave, steadfast, and strong. They are ready to leap into fire, if need be, to fulfil your task. I see in them the spark to act without delay. Ravana, the vile demon, must be slain and Sita returned. I only ask—guide us with your plan.
When we reach Mount Trikala and assault Lanka, that day shall mark the end of Ravana. Believe me. Though even the gods find this ocean dreadful to cross, the best path lies in raising a bridge across its waters.
Once the bridge is built and we reach Lanka, our army, rich in strength and mystic power, shall overpower the enemy ranks. These warriors can shift form, wield trees and hurl mountains, and blaze like fire in battle.
O King Rāma, let go of the inner storm that disturbs your clarity. In every age, grief diminishes valour. Your courage and resolve are unmatched. Now is the time to shine in strength and wisdom. If the heart is shaken by emotion, the balance of mind is lost. But you are the foremost of thinkers, aware of all the intricacies of life.
Take strength from us and lead the way to victory. When you, O Rāma, stand in the field with bow and arrows drawn, none in all three worlds may stand against you. The mission given to the vānaras shall be carried out as planned.
O King, let not sorrow linger—let righteous wrath rise against the foe. Wise effort invites divine favour. Think well on how to engage the lord of rivers—the ocean. Share with us your vision. Once our legions cross the sea, triumph shall be ours.
Many of the vānaras are masters of shape and surge like flame in combat. They will rain stones and wield mighty trees, crushing the enemy host.
O Slayer of foes! I am confident—we shall cross this mighty sea, destroy Ravana and his horde.
Why speak at length? In every endeavour, success attends you. I behold sacred omens, and my heart rejoices, brimming with zeal.”
Such was the counsel of Sugriva—not mere words of comfort, but a firm expression of faith in the power of his warriors and the wisdom of their leader. A turning point had come in the tide of war and the strategy of crossing the sea.
