In the hallowed chronicles of time, the valiant Hanuman stood as a paragon of might, wisdom, and celestial wit. In the crucible of trial, his resplendent faculties shone forth, casting away the lingering doubts of the divine hosts who pondered his prowess against the wiles of the demonic realm of Lanka. In solemn benediction, they anointed him with victory in his sacred quest—not merely to unite two mortals, but to conjoin two cosmic forces, equal in power, wisdom, and energy, ensuring the equilibrium of the universe.
Thus was this august task conferred upon Hanuman, necessitating trials most severe. The swift and discerning intellect became his beacon, guiding him as he soared with the velocity of Garuda himself, cleaving the firmament and transcending the ocean’s boundless expanse. Through veils of thunderous clouds, he surged past celestial birds and the divine elephant Airavata. Along his path, the heavens unfolded in their splendour—hermits, sages, and luminous beings traversed the skies in radiant chariots drawn by lions, elephants, tigers, and birds of omen, their courses fixed in immutable harmony, like the divine order of planetary orbits.
Above the ethereal path, fiery meteors clashed, scattering radiant plumes in a spectacle of celestial thunder. This domain was the sanctum of those exalted by austerities and sacred rites, where Agni himself bore the consecrated oblations of yajnas to the gods. The act of divine apportioning, a delicate decree of fate, preserved the balance between gods, mortals, sages, and even demons—a masterpiece of cosmic design. The Sun, Moon, and constellations gleamed in divine accord, heralding auspicious omens.
The vast expanse ahead lay under the dominion of celestial beings—Yakshas, Gandharvas, and divine serpents—who sought the benediction of the gods. Here, in the untrammelled void, resided Vishvavasu, the celestial musician, in the company of the nymph Menaka. Once cursed by Indra to inhabit the form of the demon Kabandha, he had been liberated by Rama’s valour. In this expanse, the sacred paths of Surya and Chandra glowed with tranquillity, tread upon by celestial elephants, the vigilant sentinels of the cardinal directions. The valorous Vidyadharas moved freely, granted boundless passage by the divine decree. This resplendent realm, a sanctum of the ascended, appeared as though fashioned by the Creator solely for their dwelling.
Amidst these lofty heights, Hanuman, the son of Vayu, soared without wings, visible to all quarters of the cosmos. Yet, in the murky depths below, the demoness Simhika espied the colossal being aloft and invoked her dark sorcery—an art most sinister, drawing her prey by seizing their very shadow. As Hanuman felt an unseen force ensnaring his flight, he faltered momentarily, swaying like a vessel amidst tempests. With keen recollection, he remembered Sugriva’s counsel of a lurking sea-demoness, one who ensnared souls by their shadow before devouring them whole.
Understanding that mere force would not suffice against this wretched fiend, Hanuman expanded his form to a monstrous magnitude, causing the demoness to stretch her maw into a vast chasm, an abyss of certain doom. In an instant, with preternatural agility, he shrank to the size of an elephant and plunged down her gaping throat, settling upon her windpipe and choking her into submission. Writhing in agony, the cursed being was vanquished, her fell from dissolving to reveal a sage-woman, freed at last from an age-old malediction. With tearful reverence, she hailed Hanuman:
“O noble Vanara, thou hast severed the chains of my ancient curse. In gratitude, I bestow upon thee my benedictions—may thy mission be crowned with such glory that it shall shine immortal in the annals of creation!”
The celestial hosts echoed their acclaim, exalting Hanuman’s indomitable courage, unwavering strength, and sagacious vision. “O bravest of warriors!” they extolled. “These virtues—boldness, intellect, and mastery—are the very pillars of triumph. Whosoever embraces them shall know no defeat.”
Thus, sanctified by their blessings, Hanuman pressed onward in solemn contemplation of his quest. With Lanka’s shores now within reach, he beheld the eerie terrain—a realm of twisted woods, towering peaks, and rivers of luminous waters. The mighty Malaya Mountain loomed before him, its forests dense with fragrant screw pines, towering coconut groves, and sandalwood trees that wove thick veils of verdant splendour.
Alighting upon the cliffs of Lamba, he surveyed Lanka’s splendour—an impregnable citadel, perched atop soaring peaks. His sudden arrival sent the creatures of the land into frantic retreat, their instinctive dread attesting to the might he bore. The vast ocean, teeming with serpents, crocodiles, and monstrous leviathans, lay behind him, while before him stood the peerless grandeur of Ravana’s golden city.
This was no mere expedition, but an undertaking blessed by the will of the cosmos itself. It was a venture upon which the harmony of all realms rested. To those who upheld its sacred order, prosperity was assured; to those who defied it, only ruin would follow. As Hanuman set foot upon Lanka’s soil, the great saga of celestial balance reached its fateful crescendo. The very fabric of destiny trembled, for now, the momentous confluence of Rama and Sita had begun to unfold.
