Angada and his valiant warriors, their spirits wavering, found themselves ensnared by doubt, their conduct momentarily unbefitting the stature of the bold and valorous. In a fleeting lapse of resolve, they surrendered to despondency, their minds clouded by speculation. Seeking fortitude, they longed to hear the tale of Sampathi, hoping to glean from it some wisdom that might ease their arduous task.
Meanwhile, Sampathi, having completed the sacred water rites in honor of his departed brother, Jatayu, found himself surrounded by the Simians. With reverence, they entreated him to recount the tale of his life and destiny. Perched upon the verdant edges of the hill, the venerable bird turned his keen gaze upon Angada and spoke:
“O faultless prince! Listen well. In the days of my prime, as I soared the heavens beside my beloved brother, shielding him from the sun’s relentless blaze, my wings, smitten by its fiery wrath, were consumed to naught. Bereft of flight, I plummeted from the sky, falling upon this very mount Vindhya, much like a ripe fruit loosened from its bough. For six days, I lay insensate, lost in oblivion. And when at last I awoke, the world appeared a void, unrecognizable to my weary eyes.
“Yet, as my vision steadied upon the vast ocean, the towering mountains, the whispering forests, and the glistening lakes, realization dawned upon me—I was bound to this place, unable to move an inch. Flocks of birds, shadowed caves, and mighty cliffs bore testament to my dwelling: the sacred mount Vindhya. Nearby, a hallowed hermitage, graced by celestial beings, stood as a beacon of divine presence. This hermitage, where noble rituals flourished, was presided over by the sage Nisakara, whose wisdom drew gods and sages alike to seek his benediction.
“In my anguish, I recalled this venerable sage, whom Jatayu and I had visited in bygone days. Summoning my last reserves of strength, I descended with great struggle from the unyielding heights and reached the plain below, where sacred grass flourished in abundance. I yearned for the sage’s darshan, and as I neared his ashram, the air was thick with the fragrance of divine flora. Trees laden with blossoms and fruits stood in perfect harmony—no barren boughs marred the landscape of his sacred abode. There, under the shade of a mighty banyan, I awaited his presence.
“Presently, from the east, after completing his morning oblations at the river, the sage approached, radiant as a walking blaze. A wondrous sight unfolded before me—bears, stags, tigers, lions, and mighty serpents moved beside him in tranquil harmony, as if Brahma himself were escorted by all creation. As he stepped into his hermitage, his divine retinue dispersed in haste, each returning to its realm. The sage beheld me, a gentle smile gracing his lips. Moments later, he returned and spoke: ‘O noble bird, your form is singed, your body weakened, and your limbs bereft of motion. Yet I perceive in you the swiftness of the wind, the strength of the storm. You are the elder brother of Jatayu, he the younger. Once, in human form, you both prostrated at my feet. Tell me, how came you to lose your wings? Was it illness, or the wrath of another? Speak, and let me hear your tale.’
“With a heavy heart, I recounted my reckless pursuit of the sun, the folly of pride that had led to my downfall. In an attempt to shield my brother, I spread my wings wide, only to be consumed by the very fire I sought to defy. Stricken by searing pain, I fell insensible upon this mountain, my strength drained, my honor tarnished. O sage! The weight of humiliation and suffering robbed me of will; I drew breath only in anguish. In our arrogance, my brother and I, blinded by vanity, vied in reckless contests, measuring our might against the heavens. We soared ever higher, gazing upon the world below—chariots thundering across the land, maidens dancing in crimson robes, and as we ascended further, all movement seemed like mere ants in procession. The vast forests appeared as mere grassy meadows, and the towering peaks of Himavat, Vindhya, and Meru seemed no more than elephants wading through lakes.
“Then, as realization struck, sweat poured from our brows, and terror gripped our hearts. We lost our sense of direction—east and west, north and south—nothing remained but the searing flames devouring us from all sides. We fought to discern the sun, its brilliance rivaling the very breadth of the earth. In despair, I beheld Jatayu faltering, plummeting toward the land below. In that instant, I descended with all my might, spreading my wings to shield him, that he might be spared the agony I endured. But alas! I had misjudged the fury of the sun’s embrace, and in my folly, my own wings succumbed to the insufferable heat. Jatayu, I surmised, had fallen in Janasthana, while I, bereft of consciousness, was cast into the depths of Mount Vindhya.
“Thus, I lost all—my kingdom, my brother, my strength. Stranded, half-alive, I had no yearning to endure this existence. In sorrow, I lamented my fate before the noble sage. Contemplating for a moment, he then spoke: ‘O Sampathi! I can restore your wings, your sight, your life, and your strength. But your purpose is not yet fulfilled. A great destiny awaits you; one revealed to me in meditation. Listen well!
“‘In the illustrious Ikshvaku dynasty, a king named Dasaratha shall beget a son, Rama, whose radiance shall outshine the stars. Righteous and steadfast in dharma, he shall honor his father’s command and dwell in the forest with his brother Lakshmana and his virtuous consort, Sita, the daughter of the noble Janaka. In time, the wicked king of demons, Ravana, an embodiment of arrogance and deceit, shall abduct Sita and imprison her in Lanka. Bound in sorrow, she shall spurn all enticements, holding fast to her devotion. Seeing her suffering, the gods themselves shall intervene—Indra shall grant her celestial nectar, of which she shall set aside a portion upon the earth, an offering to Rama, whether he lives or perishes. This sacred act shall be a beacon of her unwavering love.
“‘O King of Birds! Know that Rama’s envoys shall one day seek her whereabouts. You shall be their guide, revealing to them the path to Lanka. Thus, shall your waiting bear fruit, and only then shall your wings be restored. Remain steadfast, for your service shall aid a cause beyond measure. Fulfill your duty, and honor the sages, the Brahmins, and the gods alike.
“Though burdened by grief, I vowed to await these noble princes. For eight thousand years, I dwelled in the sage’s ashram, and for two hundred more, I have lingered upon this peak, awaiting their arrival. The sage’s words alone have sustained me, reminding me of my duty and warding off despair. And now, at last, the moment has come.
“I know well the might of Ravana and the treacherous depths of his dominion. Yet when my task was fulfilled, and in the presence of the noble Vanaras, my wings, once lost, were miraculously reborn. Strength and sight were restored, and the power I once wielded in youth surged within me once more. By the grace of the revered Nisakara, my vigor has returned, proof that the will of sages never falters. Take heart! The time has come to set forth. Sita shall be found, and the tide shall turn in your favor.”
With these words, Sampathi tested his newfound wings, soaring high above the mountains and the sacred hermitage, a testament to the sage’s divine pronouncement. The Simians, hearts ablaze with newfound hope, prostrated before him in gratitude. With renewed vigor,