The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  ‘“Who is this who wants to destroy my vows of fidelity to my husband?” she cried in agitation. “Do not be afraid,” replied Vāyu. “I will not harm you, lady with the lovely hips! My heart went out to you when I embraced you. You shall have a son who is brave and endowed with wisdom!”

  ‘When you were a child, Hanumān, you saw the sun rising over a large forest. You thought it was a fruit and you leapt towards it to grab it. You leapt a distance of three hundred yojanās and though the sun’s rays were strong, you did not falter. Indra hurled his thunderbolt at you as you flew through the air. You fell onto the peak of a mountain and your jaw broke. And from that you were given the name Hanumān by which you are now famous.*

  ‘Vāyu, the bearer of soft fragrances, saw you fall and was very angry. He ceased to blow in the three worlds and all creatures suffered terribly. The gods were confused and decided to appease Vāyu. So Brahmā gave you a boon, my child, by which you cannot be slain by any weapons in battle. When Indra saw that you were relatively unharmed after your fall, he was pleased and gave you the best boon of all. Your death will be of your own choosing!

  ‘Son of the Wind, you are Vāyu’s equal in splendour and you rival his capacity to get from one place to another. We are dispirited today and you sit among us, endowed with strength and power, like the king of the birds. I am old and have lost my strength but you have all the skills and powers necessary for the occasion.

  ‘Expand yourself, Hanumān! You are the foremost of all those who can leap. The entire monkey army waits to see your valour! Stand up, tiger among monkeys, and leap over the ocean! You are the swiftest of all beings! How can you ignore the anguish of the monkeys?’ exhorted Jāmbavān.

  Mighty Hanumān, worthy of all the praise showered upon him, began to increase in size. Waving his tail with joy, he attained his full strength. He swelled with energy and his form became unparalleled and the monkeys sang his praises. As a lion stretches at the mouth of a cave, so Hanumān stretched and expanded. His open mouth resembled a smokeless fire as he yawned.

  He stood among the monkeys, his hair standing on end with joy. He honoured the elders and said, ‘I am the son of Vāyu, the wind that shatters the mountain peaks, the friend of the sacrificial fire, the mighty immeasurable wind who roams the skies! No one is my equal! I can circle Mount Meru one thousand times even though it is enormous and seems to touch the sky. I can churn the sea by thrashing my arms and inundate the earth with its mountains, rivers and lakes!

  ‘I can go to where the sun rises with its garland of shining rays and return here without touching the ground! I can stride further than all those who travel in the sky. I can agitate the ocean and split the earth! I shall make the mountains tremble when I leap and repel the ocean! Flowers from plants and trees will follow in my wake as I leap across the sky. My path shall be like that of the stars and all creatures will see me as I fly! I shall pierce the clouds, I shall shake the mountains. Nobody except Vāyu and Garuḍa can rival me for speed!

  ‘I know I shall see Sītā, so rejoice, monkeys! I can leap over ten thousand yojanās and after turning Lankā upside down, I shall return!’ roared Hanumān.

  ‘Ah, dear boy!’ said Jāmbavān joyfully to the splendid Hanumān. ‘You have dispelled the profound grief of your companions. We wish you well and will perform the auspicious rites necessary for your success. Our best thoughts will be with you as you leap over the ocean. We shall all stand on one foot until you return. Remember, our lives depend on you!’

  ‘The earth will not withstand the power of my leap,’ said Hanumān. ‘But the rocky peaks will bear the thrust of my feet as I take off.’ Hanumān, the scourge of his foes, climbed up Mount Mahendra which was covered with flowering trees and creepers and grassy meadows where deer roamed. Lions and tigers and elephants wandered among its waterfalls.

  Hanumān went to the very top, and crushed under the feet of that mighty monkey the mountain roared like a rutting elephant attacked by a lion. Water was squeezed from the mountain and gushed out from the scattered stones and rocks. Deer and elephants were frightened away and the trees shook and trembled. The slopes of the mountain were deserted by the gandharvas who were busy making love as well as by the vidyādharas and all the birds. Huge serpents that lurked in rocky crevices were thrown up and as they emerged, hissing, from their holes, the great mountain shone as if it were decorated with flags. The sages fled from the peaks in agitation and the mountain was like a traveller, deserted by his companions, sitting alone in a forest.

  BEAUTY

  Chapter One

  Mighty Hanumān quickly crossed over the grassy slopes, the green forests and the emerald meadows that led to the top of the mountain which was adorned with dark and light metallic ores and blue and red lotuses. It was the home of uragas, yakṣas, kinnaras and various gods. Hanumān stood on the summit of the mountain and gazed at the vast, deep ocean, the home of Varuṇa. Full of water serpents, it thundered mightily and seemed endless. The monkey faced the east and honoured the gods as he prepared to depart. He had decided to make his leap for Rāma’s sake, and so he enlarged his body, like the ocean swells during the fortnight of the waxing moon. The other monkeys watched him in wonder.

  He pressed down upon the ground with his arms and legs. The mountain shook so hard that all the flowers fell from the trees and bushes, covering it so that it appeared as if it were made entirely of flowers. It oozed water like a rutting elephant oozing ichor and released rivers of gold and silver and black collyrium and disgorged huge stones of red arsenic. Birds and animals shrieked in pain as they were being crushed and their discordant cries filled the air. Serpents spread their hoods, displaying their markings and spewed fire as they chewed rocks with their fangs. Rocks blazed and burst into flames. Even the medicinal herbs on the mountain slopes could not neutralize the venom spewed by the serpents. The ascetics and sages and vidyādharas fled from the mountain and joined the siddhas and cāraṇas who stood, watching, in the sky.

  Resembling a mountain himself, Hanumān shook his body and roared like thunder. He hurled his coiled, furry tail, which looked like a huge snake, onto the ground. He spread his stout arms which were as tough as iron bars. He crouched on his haunches and drew his feet inwards. Tensing his neck and shoulders, Hanumān summoned up all his energy and vitality. He raised his eyes and stared at the aerial path that he would take and inhaled deeply. He steadied his feet and drew back his ears. ‘I shall go to Lankā, Rāvaṇa’s city, as swiftly as exhaled breath, like an arrow shot by Rāma! And if I do not find Sītā there, I shall go just as swiftly to the three heavens. And if Sītā is not there either, I shall uproot Lankā and bring it back here along with the king of the rākṣasas, bound hand and foot!’ he yelled.

  Hanumān leapt forward without a moment’s hesitation. He flew upwards into the clear sky, taking plants and creepers and birds nesting in the flowering trees with him. He was a truly wondrous sight. The trees fell into the salty seas, the way the mountains had plunged into the ocean from fear of Indra. Followed by a train of multi-coloured flowers, Hanumān seemed like a cloud adorned with lightning. His arms, spread out into the sky, looked like five-headed serpents sticking their heads out of their mountain holes. His eyes blazed bright as lightning, like twin fires upon a mountain slope, like the sun and the moon frozen in place. His curved tail flew like Indra’s banner and circled the flying monkey like a halo. The wind under his arms rumbled and he shot forward like a blazing comet.

  The disturbance he caused in the skies agitated the ocean but Hanumān flew above the water, counting the waves. His shadow, which was ten yojanās long and thirty yojanās wide, became even more magnificent over the waters and it followed him like a streak of shining white cloud. The gods, gandharvas and the dānavas rained flowers upon the monkey as he flashed by. The sun did not burn him and the wind served him for Rāma’s sake.

  ‘I must do something to help this great monkey,’ thought the ocean. ‘Otherwise, I shall be condemned by all beings!
I was raised by Sagara, the lord of the Ikṣvākus. I must do something so that this monkey can rest for a while and then cover the remaining distance with ease.’

  The ocean called upon gold-raveled Mainaka, the hidden mountain. ‘You have been placed here by Indra as an obstacle to the asura hordes that live in the underworld,’ he said to the mountain. ‘You can grow in any direction, upwards, downwards and sideways. I urge you now to rise up! Look! There is Hanumān, flying through the sky in order to help Rāma. Help me be of service to the Ikṣvākus. Rise up above the waters and let the monkey stand upon you. He is our guest and he must be honoured!’

  Mainaka rose from the ocean, covered with great trees and creepers. He pierced the surface of the waters as the sun pierces the clouds with his rays, and grew extremely large. Hanumān saw the mountain and assumed that it was an obstacle in his path. He thrust his chest forward and knocked the mountain over as the wind might knock over a cloud. Mainaka was pleased with the monkey’s strength and so, he took the form of a man and stood upon his own summit.

  ‘I am the golden mountain,’ he said. ‘Rest on me! I have risen to help you! The ocean told me all about you, that you are going to Lankā for Rāma’s sake and that you would definitely find Sītā there! Alight on my summit. Eat the fragrant roots and fruits that grow here and continue with your journey after you have rested.’

  ‘Why do you live in the waters of the ocean infested with sea monsters?’ asked Hanumān.

  ‘Listen and I will tell you,’ replied Mainaka. ‘Long ago, in the kṛtayuga, all the mountains had wings and they flew everywhere with the speed of the wind. But the gods and the sages and all the creatures were terrified that the mountains would fall down. So Indra clipped the wings of all the mountains with his thunderbolt. Indra came to me, too, his weapon raised. But suddenly, I was hurled away by the wind and thrown into these salty waters with my wings intact. Your father, the Wind, protected me and so there is a bond between us that I must honour, monkey! Rest upon me and relieve your fatigue!’

  ‘The time for the completion of my task is fast expiring and I had said that I would not stop along the way,’ said Hanumān. ‘I cannot alight on you, but I shall touch you with my finger!’ Hanumān touched the mountain with reverence and flew onwards and upwards, leaving the mountain and the ocean far behind. He flew higher and higher into the sky, taking the path of his father, the wind.

  The gods, the gandharvas, the siddhas and the ṛṣis called upon Surasā, the mother of serpents. ‘Hanumān, the splendid son of the Wind, is flying over the ocean. Present yourself to him as an obstacle. Take on the form of a fierce and mountainous rākṣasa with a coppery face and a gaping maw filled with teeth. We want to know if Hanumān has the necessary strength and fortitude. Will he overcome you or will he be disheartened?’

  Surasā took the form of a hideous and terrifying rākṣasa and rose from the depths of the ocean. She stopped the flying Hanumān and said, ‘You have been sent to me as food by the gods. I want to eat you. Enter my mouth!’

  Hanumān joined his palms respectfully. ‘I am on a mission from Rāma to find his wife Sītā who was abducted by Rāvaṇa. You should help with Rāma’s enterprise! Once I have seen Sītā and gone back to Rāma, I promise I shall return to enter your mouth.’

  ‘No one gets past me. This is the boon that I was given!’ said Surasā, curious about Hanumān’s strength. ‘Enter my mouth now and then go on!’

  ‘Open this mouth of yours by which you hope to subdue me!’ cried Hanumān in anger. Equally angry, Surasā expanded by ten yojanās. Hanumān did the same. Surasā grew to twenty yojanās and Hanumān expanded to thirty. Surasā opened her mouth as wide as forty yojanās but Hanumān increased in size to fifty. They went on like this until Hanumān had reached a size of one hundred yojanās. He looked into Surasā’s mouth that was like a fiery hell and suddenly he contracted his body to the size of a thumb and flew in and out of her mouth in an instant. ‘I have entered your mouth and fulfiled your boon,’ said Hanumān, standing in the air. ‘Now I will go onwards to the place where Sītā is!’

  Surasā reverted to her natural form and blessed the monkey. ‘Go forward and accomplish your goal with ease! Unite Sītā and the mighty Rāma!’ she said. And Hanumān went onwards.

  Meanwhile, an immense rākṣasī named Simhikā, who could take any form that she pleased, saw Hanumān. ‘Today I shall have a huge meal! Such an enormous creature has come my way after a long time!’ she thought to herself and seized his shadow.

  Suddenly, Hanumān felt himself being caught. ‘What is this? I have been gripped by something, crippled as I fly, like a boat upon the ocean seized by a contrary wind!’ He looked around and saw a huge creature rising out of the waters. ‘This must be the enormous shadow-snatcher who was described to us by Sugrīva!’ he thought and expanded his body like a cloud in the rains.

  Simhikā saw his body growing larger and she stretched her mouth wider so that it resembled the sky and the nether worlds. Hanumān stared into her deformed mouth and noted the proportions of her body and her vulnerable spots. Hard as a diamond, the monkey threw himself into her mouth and flew out again. The siddhas and the cāraṇas saw him disappear into her mouth like the moon engulfed by Rahu during an eclipse. But the monkey had ripped apart her entrails with his sharp nails and flown out again, as quick as thought. Simhikā fell dead and the sky-dwellers rejoiced.

  ‘You have done a great deed by killing this terrible creature today!’ they said to Hanumān. ‘May you attain your goals safely! Creatures like you, who have the four qualities of intelligence, determination, vision and competence, never fail in their tasks!’

  Hanumān accepted their blessings and went onwards to Lankā. But as he approached the city, he noticed that he was as large as a cloud that covered the sky. ‘When the rākṣasas see my huge body and my immense speed, they will be very curious,’ he thought quickly. He contracted his mountainous body and reverted to his natural shape, like one who has been unconscious regains his senses.

  Now that he had crossed the ocean, which was garlanded with waves and filled with strange creatures, and reached its far shore by his own strength, Hanumān gazed at Lankā which was as lovely as Amarāvarī, the city of the gods.

  As Hanumān stood on top of Mount Trikūṭa and looked upon the city, a rain of flowers fell upon him from the trees. Even though he had just leapt over one hundred yojanās, the valiant monkey was not breathing heavily and showed no signs of fatigue. He approached the city slowly, walking through meadows of fresh new grass, wooded hills, fragrant groves and flatlands strewn with rocks and boulders. The city of Lankā lay beyond these, on the summit of a mountain.

  Hanumān saw trees of all kinds, laden with beautiful flowers, their swaying tops filled with nesting birds. The trees which stood in the parks and groves and pleasure gardens provided fruit and flowers all year round. Lotus pools were haunted by swans and other water birds. As he came closer, Hanumān noticed that even the moats which surrounded the city were filled with lotuses and lilies. But they were also guarded by well-armed rākṣasas since the time Rāvaṇa had abducted Sītā.

  Hanumān gazed in wonder at the city of Lankā which seemed like the city of the gods. It had beautiful golden gateways and ramparts, with climbing vines carved on them, that surrounded hundreds of mansions festooned with flags and banners. Situated on top of a mountain, the city with its dazzling white buildings looked like it was hanging in the air. Ruled by Rāvaṇa, it had been created by Viśvakarmā and seemed to float in the sky. It teemed with fierce rākṣasas as Bhogavatī teems with serpents. This city of unimaginable perfection had once belonged to Kubera. It was now guarded by terrifying rākṣasas with sharp nails and teeth who were armed with every kind of weapon.

  Hanumān reached the northern gates and saw the city spread before him like a woman, the walls and ramparts her body, the vast ocean her clothes, the fortifications her hair and the upper stories of the mansions her earrings. Lankā was as h
igh and lofty as the peaks of Kailāsa and seemed to touch the sky. Her tall buildings seemed poised to take off into the air.

  Hanumān considered Lankā’s formidable defences, the fact that it was surrounded by the ocean and that it contained an opponent as mighty as Rāvaṇa. ‘Even if the monkeys manage to get here, it will be no use, for Lankā cannot be conquered even by the gods! What will Rāma do when he reaches this impregnable fortress protected by Rāvaṇa? But first let me find out if Sītā is here or not. I shall think about this problem after I have seen her!’

  ‘But I cannot enter the city of the rākṣasas, guarded on all sides by fierce and cruel creatures, in this form!’ he thought. ‘I will have to outwit these brave and terrible creatures in order to find Sītā! I should enter the city at night in a form that is barely visible. This important task must be performed at the right time!’

  Gazing at the city which was unassailable even by the gods, Hanumān sighed in despair. ‘How will I manage to see Sītā and remain unnoticed by Rāvaṇa? I want to see Sītā alone and in secret. Intentions and plans can be brought to nought by circumstances of time and place as well as by a careless emissary. Sometimes, even a firm intelligence cannot illuminate the difference between advantage and disadvantage. Messengers who consider themselves wise can often ruin what they are sent to do!

  ‘How can I make sure that our mission is not ruined, that my leap over the ocean has not been in vain? If the rākṣasas see me, Rāma’s intentions to destroy Rāvaṇa will be fruitless. The rākṣasas will recognize an outsider even if he were to take the form of a rākṣasa. There is no hope for me if I stay like this. No one, not even my father the Wind, could get past these creatures undetected! If I remain here in my natural form I will be destroyed and my master’s plans will be foiled. I will make myself tiny and enter the city at night and look into every single house until I find Sītā!’ Having made this decision, Hanumān waited anxiously for the sun to set.