Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana

by Devdutt Pattanaik

  By the grace of Swayamprabha, they had reached the ends of the earth. Beyond was the sea stretching to the horizon, joining the sky at a distance. Somewhere out there was Lanka.

  ‘We can search the land but we can never search the sea. How will we ever find Lanka?’ wailed Angada. He was angry that they had left the gardens of Swayamprabha. ‘I cannot go back without news of Sita. My uncle is looking for an excuse to kill me. I would rather stay here and die.’

  Hanuman and Jambuvan sat next to the young prince silently empathizing with his frustration and fear. They stared at the sea and wondered what could be done.

  A vulture called Sampati overheard Angada speak thus and was very happy, for the dead monkeys would provide him nourishment for several days. He sauntered towards them, for he could not fly.

  ‘Look, a vulture comes and waits for us to die. At least in death we will make someone happy, we who made no one happy when we were alive,’ ranted Angada. Then he said, ‘What if Jatayu got it wrong? What if Sita was not taken in the southern direction?’

  Hearing Jatayu’s name, Sampati perked up, for Jatayu was his younger brother. Long ago, the two of them had decided to race towards the sun. Being older and stronger, Sampati soared higher till he realized that the glare of the sun was too strong to bear. So he spread his wings to shield Jatayu from the searing rays. Jatayu was saved but Sampati’s wings got singed. He would never be able to fly again. He made the southern shore his home. While all other vultures could fly in search for food, he had to learn patience and wait for food to come to him.

  ‘Are you friends of Jatayu? I am his brother. Tell me all that you know of him,’ Sampati said. So the monkeys told the old vulture the story of Ram, and how Ravana abducted Sita and how Jatayu lost his wing, and his life, trying to stop him, and how Ram helped Sugriva and how Sugriva, in return, was trying to help Ram find, and rescue, his beloved wife.

  Sampati wept for his dear brother. ‘His death shall not be in vain. I will help you find the man who killed my brother. I may not fly but I have keen eyesight. I can see even beyond the horizon and beyond the sea mists. I will locate Lanka for you.’

  Sampati stood on a rock that overlooked the sea and stared south for a long time. Then he said, ‘I see an island. I see a city on that island. And in that city, I see a woman. She is the only woman in this city who looks unhappy. All the others have a smile on their faces, like beloveds satisfied by lovers. She is the only woman who wears no gold in that city of gold. That lovelorn woman under the Ashoka tree must be Ram’s Sita.’

  ‘Is that how he described me?’ asked Sita.

  ‘Yes,’ said Hanuman.

  Jambuvan, the wise bear, is part of the monkey search party. His role is not critical but he embodies the wisdom and patience that is associated with age.

  Bears (bhalukas) are seen by some modern commentators as tribes whose totem (favoured or emblematic object) was the bear.

  In the Puranas, Jambuvan is described as being so old that he had witnessed Vishnu overpowering the asura-king Bali in the form of Vamana. When Vamana the dwarf turned into Trivikrama the giant who traced the three worlds in two steps, Jambuvan went around him. He was very strong but Trivikrama accidentally bumped into him and the resulting injury made him weak. Hence, he cannot do what Hanuman can do.

  The inclusion of bears and monkeys in the narrative has been attributed to the use of hands by these animals. Both can grab and hug, making them closer to humans than birds and four-legged animals with claws and hooves. This is often seen as an early understanding of the theory of evolution. Some even propose the theory that vanaras and bhalukas are the missing link.

  The story of Ravana wanting to urinate is found in the Kashmiri Ramayana. Here, Narada ensures the Shiva-linga does not reach Lanka.

  Swayamprabha, like Sulabha and Gargi, is a female mendicant.

  South-East Asian versions of the Ramayana depict Swayamprabha as one of the many women who are smitten by Hanuman.

  In the Valmiki Ramayana, no one who enters the cave can escape. The vanaras are trapped but Hanuman convinces Swayamprabha to use her magical powers and let them go. A temple of Hanuman in Krishnapuram, which stands in Tamil Nadu’s Tirunelveli district, marks the cave of Swayamprabha. On the way back to Ayodhya, after killing Ravana, Ram greets her and thanks her for her support.

  Sampati plays a key role in pointing to the exact direction of Lanka; otherwise the vanaras would be all at sea. Jatayu and Sampati are the ones who point to Ram, and later to Hanuman, the direction where Ravana had taken Sita. Birds are seen as the perfect scouts as they can travel fast over vast distances across land and water.

  The story of Sampati’s wings getting singed because he flies too close to the sun echoes the Greek story of Icarus, the boy who flew too close to the sun with wings made of wax.

  After losing his wings, Sampati could not fly and hunt for fresh meat. And so, according to folklore, impressed by Sampati’s sacrifice the gods blessed him with the ability to digest rotting flesh. Thus vultures became scavengers of the dead yet were never considered inauspicious.

  Both Sampati and Jatayu are described in various versions of the Ramayana as friends of Ram’s father, Dashratha.

  Greeks venerated the vulture as the only creature that does not harm the living for its survival. The Zoroastrians venerate the vulture and invite it to eat the bodies of their dead in specially built towers of silence.

  In the Gosani festival of the Goddess in the temple city of Puri, Odisha, images of Sampati carrying monkeys on his wide wings are shown. It seems strange, as Sampati is not associated with wings. But according to folklore, Sampati gets his wings back for helping the monkeys and takes them back to Kishkindha on his wings. Perhaps in some earlier lost version the monkeys travelled to Lanka on the wings of birds. But this is pure speculation.

  Hanuman’s Story

  ‘The fastest way to reach Lanka was to leap across the sea. Every monkey can leap: from one tree to another, across rivers, over chasms and gorges, but none had ever tried to leap across the sea. Jambuvan, the old bear, was sure I would be able to make the leap, but I was not sure,’ said Hanuman to Sita.

  ‘Leap across the sea? Did you really do that? How?’ asked Sita.

  ‘It happened after Jambuvan told me the story of my birth, which I had long forgotten.’

  The gods wanted Shiva, the supreme tapasvi, to create a warrior who would support Ram and stand up to Ravana. So Vishnu took the form of the damsel Mohini and enchanted Shiva, until Shiva let his seed slip out of his body. Vayu, the wind-god, took this seed and slipped it into the ear of Anjana. From this seed was born Hanuman who came to be known as Maruti because his birth was mediated by Vayu, also known as Marutta, god of storms.

  ‘I was a strong child, so strong that I did not know my strength. Once, I leapt up into the sky to eat the rising sun, assuming it to be a fruit. I began tossing the planets around like stars. To stop me, Indra struck me with a thunderbolt, the Vajra. This made Vayu so angry that he withdrew air from all the worlds. To appease him, Indra said that I would get a body that would be as swift as lightning and as strong as thunder. That is why I am also called Vajranga, or Bajrang,’ said Hanuman to Sita.

  ‘Another time, I kept hurling boulders and mountains and creating such a racket that the rishis cursed me that I would forget my strength until someone reminded me of the same at the right time. That time came when I stood at the edge of the sea and Jambuvan said only I could leap across the sea. He praised my strength, reminded me of my capabilities and motivated me to rise up to the sky and make my way to Lanka.’

  In the Valmiki Ramayana and early retellings, Hanuman is just a mighty monkey, and a son of the wind-god. Since medieval times, Hanuman has been identified as both Shiva’s son and as Shiva’s avatar. In Balaram Das’s Odia Dandi Ramayana, Hanuman is clearly identified as a form of Shiva.

  In Eknath’s Marathi Bhavarth Ramayana, Hanuman is born wearing a loincloth that is indicative of his celibacy.


  While Hanuman is always known as the son of Anjana, his fatherhood is shared between a monkey (Kesari), a god (Vayu) and God (Shiva).

  In the Ramayana from Malaysia one hears of Ram and Sita taking the form of monkeys and producing a child that turns into Hanuman who later comes to help Ram rescue Sita from Ravana. A similar story is found in some Indian retellings, only here it is Shiva and Parvati who take the form of monkeys and give birth to Hanuman who they give to the childless monkey couple Anjana and Kesari.

  In North India, Hanuman is offered calotropis leaves that are wild and poisonous, thus reinforcing his association with Shiva, the hermit. In South India, Hanuman, popularly known as Anjaneya, son of Anjana, is offered betel leaves and butter.

  Jambuvan gives the earliest motivational speech, a song of praise reminding Hanuman of his origins and prowess, giving him the strength to do what has never been attempted before.

  Hanuman is worshipped as the remover of problems. He has control over celestial bodies like the sun and the stars and so can remove bad astrological influences. Across India, offerings are made to Hanuman on Tuesdays and Saturdays, days that are associated with two malefic planets, Mangal (the planet Mars) who creates conflict and Shani (the planet Saturn) who delays things.

  Crossing the Sea

  Hanuman then told Sita of his journey across the vast sea.

  He first increased the size of his body. The branches of trees with leaves, fruit and flowers clung to his limbs as he grew in size. His head stretched beyond the sky and the planets wondered whether they had to go around his head or around the sun. Under his weight the mountains by the seaside started oozing liquid metal like the juice of crushed sugar cane. Then with a thunderous roar, he leapt into the sky and made his way south towards Lanka.

  The flowers that clung to Hanuman’s body as he gained size were swept away by the force of the wind, and they fell into the sea, arousing the curiosity of fishes that rose from the waters to see this incredible sight: a monkey flying like a bird towards Lanka. No bird had made this journey. No fish had swum that far. There was great excitement in the three worlds at this occurrence of the impossible.

  Then, a few hours into his journey, a mountain rose from under the sea. Hanuman saw this as an obstacle perhaps created by demons. But it was Mainaka, the son of Himavan, king of the mountains. ‘Stop, son of the wind. Rest on my peaks. Refresh yourself,’ he said. No, said Hanuman, thanking the mountain. There was a mission to complete. No rest until then.

  Then Hanuman found his path blocked by Surasa, mother of the sea creatures. ‘Make way for me. I am Hanuman, on a mission for Ram,’ he shouted.

  Surasa responded, ‘Who is Ram? Who is Hanuman? What is a mission? All I know is that I am hungry and you are my food. Surely feeding the hungry is more important than going on a mission. You must satisfy my hunger. Give me food or become my food. Only then will I let you pass.’

  ‘I have no food to give and if I become food to satisfy your hunger, how then will you let me pass?’ asked Hanuman.

  Surasa smiled at the cleverness of this monkey and said, ‘If you, who can be food or provide food, pass without entering my hungry mouth, you will earn so much demerit that you will never succeed in your mission.’

  ‘It may be my dharma to feed you but it is your dharma to catch food given to you. Don’t blame me if you can’t catch me,’ said Hanuman expanding the size of his body, forcing Surasa to widen her jaws that were lined with vast rows of venomous teeth. Then, very quickly, Hanuman reduced himself to the size of a bee and entered Surasa’s mouth and left it just as quickly. Before Surasa could understand what was happening and was able to snap shut her jaws so greatly widened, Hanuman was gone, on his way to Lanka.

  Hanuman heard Surasa chuckle in delight. ‘A creature as smart, strong and sincere as you will surely succeed.’

  Then a sea monster called Simhika caught Hanuman by pinning down his shadow with magic. Resistance seemed futile as her magic was very strong. So Hanuman allowed himself to be swallowed by the monster, but once inside, he expanded himself in size, tearing her insides apart and ripping out of her body. The sea, until then blue, turned purple as the red blood spread in every direction.

  Finally, covered with the blood of Simhika and the sweat of his long journey, Hanuman saw the shores of Lanka, lined with coconut palms that waved in the wind as if welcoming him like the wives of warriors returning home after years in battle.

  It was night when Hanuman landed on the beach and walked towards Lanka. His path was blocked by a fierce being, a woman with eight arms. She had a torch in one hand and a bell in another, a trident in one hand on which an elephant had been impaled, and a sword wet with the blood of a lion in another, a snake spitting venom in one hand and a club fitted with a human skull in another, a pot of fire in one hand and an axe in another. Her hair was unbound and her forehead was smeared with vermilion. All she wore was a string of human heads, warriors she had killed in battle.

  ‘I am Lankini, guardian of the city,’ she said. ‘I serve its master. First it was Kubera, king of yakshas, who built the city. Now it is Ravana, king of rakshasas, who drove Kubera and his yakshas out and declared himself overlord of this city.’

  Hanuman swung his tail and knocked Lankini down. When Lankini tried getting up, he swung his tail once more and knocked her down again. Lankini then simply lay on the ground, spreadeagled, refusing to get up. The guardian of the city was not upset. Long had she protected the city. Now, finally, she had an opportunity to let go. ‘You are no monkey. You are the herald of doom. Ravana’s days are numbered,’ Lankini said.

  Hearing this exciting tale of the monkey who crossed the sea, who was as strong as he was smart and committed, Sita’s heart was filled with hope and joy.

  The fifth chapter of the Ramayana, Sundara-kanda, which describes the monkeys’ search for Sita, is the most popular and most auspicious chapter of the epic. It is symbolic of hope, of seeking and finding what one misses dearly.

  Hanuman displays perseverance with Mainaka, cleverness with Surasa, brute strength with Simhika.

  According to rationalists, Hanuman did not fly, he swam. In the Valmiki Ramayana, words for swimming and flying are used interchangeably.

  Every village in India is associated with a goddess. She is Gramadevi, the lady of the settlement, the domesticated earth who sustains the village. Lanka is no exception.

  Cities and villages across India are associated with Gramadevis, such as Mumbadevi of Mumbai, Kali of Kolkata and Chandika of Chandigarh.

  Images of reclining goddesses are found in many parts of South India. They represent the earth who receives seed and bears children, the plants.

  Most forts in India are called durg as they are guarded by Durga, the goddess who rides a lion and bears weapons and is the patron of kings.

  Contrary to popular belief that all fertility deities are female and guardian deities are male, this story reveals that even the mighty Ravana’s city is protected by a goddess. Like Tadaka, Lankini is strong and fearsome.

  Lankini can be equated with the Amazons of Greek mythology, warrior women who are part of Indian folklore. Chandragupta Maurya is said to have been guarded by a contingent of female warriors.

  Finding Sita

  ‘The city of Lanka is vast, full of women. How did you know I was Sita?’ asked Sita.

  Hanuman admitted it was not easy. He flew from one house to another, sometimes in the form of a bee, sometimes in the form of a parrot, peeping through windows and hovering over courtyards. Most people were asleep. He saw mothers sleeping next to their children, children sleeping with their dolls, lovers embracing each other after having made love, old men and women who tossed and turned in their sleep.

  How does Sita look, he wondered. In Ravana’s palace he found Ravana sleeping surrounded by many women, all of them satisfied. They were dressed in the finest clothes, wearing the finest ornaments. Hanuman found the room full of perfume and music everywhere. If ever there was
paradise on earth, Hanuman thought, it had to be here.

  Amongst the women on Ravana’s bed, he saw a particularly beautiful and serene woman. Could that be Sita? But something told him that she could not be Ram’s wife. He decided to look elsewhere.

  Finally, just as dawn was breaking, he found his way to the garden of Ashoka trees next to the palace. He saw there a woman under a tree, no jewels on her body except her hairpin, surrounded by many rakshasa women, clearly there to guard her, but who had dozed off.

  ‘I remembered how Ram had remarked on seeing the jewellery collected by the monkeys of Kishkindha that the only piece of jewellery missing in the bundle was the hairpin. The only ornament you have on your body is your hairpin. So you had to be Sita. Thus it was that I found you,’ said Hanuman to Sita.

  Hanuman then asked Sita for something to prove to Ram that she had been found. Sita gave Hanuman her hairpin. ‘When a woman’s hair is unbound it means she is free. When it is neatly bound, it means she is committed. This hairpin, the only piece of jewellery I did not drop on the forest floor, reveals I am committed to Ram in mind and spirit, but Ravana seeks to unbind my hair. Tell him to hurry. Ravana must be stopped or the consequences will be terrible.’

  Then Hanuman had a doubt. ‘What if Ram thinks I picked this up from the forest floor too? Is there something you can tell me that will prove beyond all doubt that I met you alive, none but you? Maybe a secret you shared?’

  ‘You think of all possibilities,’ said an impressed Sita. She then told a secret tale to Hanuman: ‘One day, while he slept, a crow pecked me, it kept troubling me, biting my ear. It was no ordinary crow; it was Jayanta, son of Indra. I wept and I bled but I did not shout because I did not want to wake up Ram from the sleep he so richly deserved. But he sensed my pain and woke up and was so angry with the crow that he pierced one of his eyes and drove it back to the sky.’