The Council of War

 The Council of War

Vibhishana’s Honour, A Brother’s Shame

The hall of Lanka’s war council thrummed with tension, the air thick with the scent of burning oil and sweat. Vibhishana stood alone before his brother’s throne, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the generals like a blade through silk. "Kill not the messenger!" he pleaded, his palms pressed together. "Hanuman came under sacred law. To spill his blood is to invite”

Kumbhakarna rose from the shadows, his massive form shaking the chamber. The great sleeper’s eyes, still heavy with interrupted slumber, burned with a brother’s fury. "You stole his light," he rumbled, pointing at Ravana. "Now stand and fight—or flee like the coward you’ve made of us all."

The silence that followed was heavier than armour.

Ravana’s Choice, A Doom Embraced

Ravana ran his fingers along the newly rebuilt spire of his palace, the stone still warm from the fires Hanuman had kindled. The city below bustled with preparations—spears sharpened, walls reinforced, war elephants fitted with iron plates. Yet for all the clamour, the demon king heard nothing. No whispers of the dead. No omens in the wind.

His laughter rolled like thunder over the sea. "Let Rama come," he declared, his golden bracelets clinking as he spread his arms. "Let him see what tenfold wrath awaits the free."

Outside, the tide pulled away from the shore, farther than any had ever seen—as if the ocean itself was making way for what would follow.

These verses weave Hanuman’s divine quest, Sita’s unbroken spirit, and Ravana’s fatal pride—each moment heavy with destiny’s weight. The imagery contrasts fire and rebirth, while the rhythm mirrors the tension between ruin and resolve. 

Themes-Sacred Fire vs. Arrogant Power (Hanuman’s flames defy Ravana’s tyranny).

Silent Strength (Sita’s quiet resolve mirrors Rama’s coming storm).

Nature’s Omens (The retreating tide as a herald of divine justice).

The Desert’s Lesson

  

The Desert’s Lesson

In Shiva’s grove, silence ruled—even scorpions seemed to mourn. Then—crack! —A barren wasteland stretched before them. Lakshman pointed to circling vultures, sensing death. Vishwamitra’s gaze darkened: "This land was once a woman, Thataka. Now, meditate—for even curses are the gods’ way of teaching." As mantras fell like the first rain, Rama stood taller, and the scorched sand suddenly smelled of jasmine.

Rama and Lakshmana follow Vishwamitra until they reach a spot where Shiva once meditated. Viswamithra explains that ever since then, saints who pray to Shiva have come here to perform sacrifices. Viswamitra and the boys stay overnight, and the next afternoon, they come upon the driest, most desolate desert Rama has ever seen. Rama and Lakshmana notice animal bones and feel worried, so Viswāmitra mentally transmits to them two mantras on which to meditate. Through meditation, the boys feel as though they're walking through a cool stream. Rama asks why the desert is so awful, and Viswamitra tells the boys the story of Thataka.

Tataka is a minor yakṣī rival in the Ramayana. Along with her son, Mārīca, Tāṭakā would harass and attack sages performing yajnas in the forest.

Blessed by Brahma, who said Suketu would have a girl child, who would have the strength of 1,000 elephants, and that girl was Tataka. When Tataka attained marriageable age, she was given in marriage to Sunda. Sunda was killed by Agastya's curse. Enraged, Tataka went with her son, Mareecha, to kill Agastya.

Analysis

Places become sacred when gods perform spiritual activities there; these locations allow humans to connect more fully with deities and demonstrate their loyalty to the gods. Rama and Lakshmana's worry is indicative of their youth and inexperience, which leaves room for them to grow up and develop over the next several chapters. Again, by meditating and becoming mentally and emotionally closer to the gods, the humans can escape the negative aspects of the mortal earth.

Notes

Sage vs. King Conflict: Vishwamitra’s duality now crackles with tension—his royal past vs. ascetic present.

Dasaratha’s Grief: Added tactile imagery (throne’s cold weight, cracked hand) to underscore his despair.

Desert Symbolism: Thataka’s curse now visceral ("carcass-song," "teeth of wind"), with meditation’s relief juxtaposed as surreal fragrance (jasmine tea).

Sacred Geography: Shiva’s meditation site as a bridge between the divine and mortal.

Foreshadowing: Lakshmana’s accompaniment mirrors future loyalty in exile.

Meditation as Armour: Mantras transform perceptual —a metaphor for dharma’s clarity.

The above is the eerie atmosphere of Thataka’s desert or the tenderness in Dasaratha’s farewell? …

"O Sage, O King, O Crimson Sand"

Hanuman Chalisa-English

 Hanuman Chalisa [English]

Hanuman Chalisa [9]

Here are poetic lines, inspired by the Hanuman Chalisa. Each couplet flows with devotion and rhythmic harmony, mirroring the cadence of the Hanuman Chalisa.  Jai Bajrangbali! 🚩🙏

1. With Guru’s lotus pollen, pure and bright,
I cleanse my mind, my heart, my sight.
I sing of Raghuvar’s endless grace,
Bestowing Dharma, Artha, Kama, Moksha’s embrace.

2. Though weak in mind, in thought, in speech,
To Pavan Kumar, my soul doth reach.
Grant me strength, wisdom, knowledge true,
And wash away my faults anew.

3. Jai Hanuman! Ocean of light,
Kapisa’s might, so fierce, so bright!
Your glory shines, so vast, so free,
Through earth, through heaven, through sky, through sea.

4. Messenger of Ram, so strong, so wise,
Son of the Wind, with stormful skies.
Anjani’s joy, in power arrayed,
In boundless strength, your fame is made.

5. Arms like thunder, bold and grand,
Wisdom’s flame in your command.
Dispel the dark, the fears, the night,
With truth’s pure and holy light.

6. Golden form, so bright, so fair,
Curling locks beyond compare.
Earrings gleam, your robes delight,
A radiant beacon in the night.

7. In your hand, the lightning’s glow,
Victory’s flag sways high and low.
Sacred thread upon you lies,
A storm of strength in humble guise.

8. Sankar’s scion, Kesari’s pride,
Through all the worlds, your name doth glide.
Your splendor shines, so vast, so wide,
In every heart, you reign inside.

9. A treasury of wisdom, virtue’s own sun,
Perfect in deeds, by Shri Ram’s will undone.
Ever devoted, steadfast, and true,
His sacred commands you joyfully pursue.

10. With eager ears, you drink the divine tale,
Of Ram’s great life—love that will never fail.
Your heart beats as one with His noble grace,
In Ram, Lakshman, Sita—there lies your place.

11. Before Ma Sita, small and meek you came,
A humble voice to soothe her grief and shame.
Then, fierce as storm, in terror’s form you rose,
And Lanka burned beneath your wrathful throes!

12. With thunderous might, the demons fell in dread,
Each task for Ram fulfilled, as you were led.
No challenge too great, no battle too dire,
A blaze of faith, a storm of holy fire!

13. Through darkened skies, you raced with healing light,

Sanjivan brought Lakshman to sight!

Then Raghuvir, with joy no words could hold,

Embracing you close, His love is purer than gold.

 

14. "O Hanuman!" cried Ram, His voice so sweet,
"No brother dearer, none with love so meet.
As Bharat holds my heart, so too do you—"
Thus heaven echoed with praise so bright and true.

15. Now saints and sages chant your endless fame,
Celestial voices sing your sacred name.
And as they hailed your glory, strong and bright,
Shri Ram embraced you—bliss in purest light!

16. When Sanak, Brahma, Narad sing in praise,
When Saraswati lifts her voice in lays,
When Shesh, the mighty, crowns your endless might—
The worlds rejoice in your divine light!

17. Yamaraj bows, Kuber pays his due,
Digpals chant praise in worship of you!
How then can mortal tongues proclaim,
The boundless might of Hanuman’s name?

18. For Sugriva’s sake, you crossed the tide,
United him with Ram, his throne restored with pride.
To Vibhishan, your counsel wise was shown—
Now Lanka’s crown and heaven bless his own!

19. A fruit of gold, the Sun you spied,
Through endless skies in one bold stride!
With playful leap, you sought the flame—
No distance bars Hanuman’s aim!

20. Ram’s ring aglow within your mouth,
You soared o’er waves, defying doubt.
What marvels dare oppose your flight,
When faith is vast and love is light?

21. The weight of worlds, so harsh, so grim,
Grows soft as petals through your hymn.
Where grace descends, no task stays dire—
Your mercy lifts us higher, higher!

22. Guardian of Ram’s celestial gate,
None pass unless you bless their fate.
Your glance decides, your nod decrees—
O Keeper of Divine Keys!

23. All joys that bloom on earth abide,
Like flowers laid at lotus feet so wide.
Your shadow shields—no fear remains,
Where Hanuman’s devotion reigns!

24. None but you could ever bear,
The splendor of your might so rare!
At one fierce roar, the three worlds shake—
Time itself bows for your name’s sake!

25. Ghosts and demons flee in fear,
When Mahaveer’s name they hear!
Darkest shadows melt away,
Before your might—Jai Hanuman Jay!

26. Pain and sickness dare not stay,
Where your holy name holds sway.
Chant it loud, chant it clear—
Hanuman’s grace will draw them near!

27. In thought, in word, in deed so true,
Who calls you, Lord, finds rescue!
Faith unshaken, love so bright—
You guide them through the darkest night.

28. Who bows to Ram, the King Divine,
You lift their burdens, ease their sign.
Mountains crumble, paths unfold,
Where Hanuman’s sweet tale is told!

29. Who seeks with faith, with heart sincere,
Finds boundless joy—you draw them near.
Not just this life, but beyond the sun,
Eternal bliss for them is won!

30. Through four great ages, still you shine,
Your glory bright, your name divine!
Across the cosmos, stars proclaim,
The endless might of Hanuman’s name!

31. Saints and sages sing your praise,
Demons tremble in their gaze.
Ram’s own darling, strong and sweet,
You crush the vile, guard the meek!

32. Eight Siddhis, Nine Nidhis too,
Lie in your hands, so pure, so true.
Blessed by Mother Janki’s grace,
You shower boons on human race!

33. Ram-bhakti burns in you, so bright,
Through every birth, in love’s pure light.
Forever Raghupati’s faithful son,
Your devotion ends where none’s begun!

34. Sing my Lord, with heart aflame,
Find sweet Ram, break sorrow’s chain!
Through hymns to you, the soul takes flight—
Freed from darkness, bathed in light.

35. Who dies with Ram’s name embraced,
In every life, by love is graced.
Reborn not in pain or strife,
But as His devotee—for endless life!

36. Why seek gods when Hanuman’s near?
His love alone dispels all fear.
No other shrine, no prayer apart—
He floods the soul with joy’s sweet art!

37. Who chants your name, O Sankat Mochan,
Escapes rebirth’s cruel, endless ocean.
No grief remains, no karmic chain—
Just Ram’s love, eternal, sane!

38. Jai, Jai, Jai, Mahabali!
Crush the dark with thunderous glory.
Guru divine, my heart’s own core,
Bless me now and evermore!

39. Who recites Chalisa a hundredfold,
Breaks death’s grip, escapes its hold.
Beyond the stars, their soul shall rise—
To Ram’s bliss in paradise!

40. Who chants these forty verses true,
Hanuman’s grace will see them through.
Lord Sankar smiles—He stands as witness,
Tulsidas kneels, drowned in sweetness!

Final Surrender (Tulsidas’ Prayer):
"O Lord! Engrave upon my soul,
Your name, your form, my timeless goal.
A slave at Ram’s feet, I plea—
Dwell in my heart eternally!"

Sundra

1. With the pollen of my Guru’s lotus feet, I cleanse the mirror of my mind, then sing of Shri Raghuvar’s glory—pure, untainted, and divine. His grace bestows life’s fourfold fruits: Dharma, Artha, Kama, Moksha—woven into time.

2. Though my intellect is frail, my heart turns to Pavan Kumar, the Wind’s own son. Grant me strength, wisdom, and light to dissolve my flaws, as dawn dissolves the night.

3. Victory to you, Hanuman! Ocean of wisdom, torch of Shiva-Shakti’s flame! Your radiance floods the three worlds—earth, sky, and heaven—till all shadows kneel to your name.

4. Ram’s divine messenger, yet called merely "Wind’s heir," you are the storm and the breeze. Anjani’s joy, your strength is a mountain—unknowable, vast, yet put at love’s ease.

5. Your limbs are thunderbolts, your heart a sage’s shrine. Valour and wisdom dance in your stride. Where you tread, the darkness shrinks—evil unravels, and demons hide.

6. Golden as dawn, your form enthrals; curls cascade like a monsoon’s song. Earrings gleam, robes ripple bright—a vision of grace, fearless and strong.

7. Lightning bolts rest in your palm, a saffron flag roars in your grip. The sacred thread crosses your chest—a bridge between earth and heaven’s script.

8. Sankar’s scion, Kesari’s pride, your splendor humbles the sun and moon. The universe chants your praise—a chorus no silence can consume.

9–16 (Condensed for flow)

Hanuman, you, who dwarfed the sun with a leap, yet knelt tiny at Sita’s feet. You, who burned Lanka to embers, then carried a mountain, healing sweet. Ram’s embrace, his tears like dew—"Brother," he whispered, "none rival you." Even Brahma, Saraswati, Sheshnag’s tongues sing your saga—eternally true.

17–24 (Themes unified)

Death and wealth bow; Digpals vie to praise what no verse can hold. You crowned Sugriva, guided Vibhishan—your wisdom is legend, your mercy untold. The sun once fooled you, yet you fooled fate: oceans shrank beneath your gait. You guard Ram’s door, weigh worlds as dust—yet cradle devotees in trust.

25–32 (Lyrical intensity)

At "Mahaveer!" shrieks the demon horde; pain dissolves where your name is roared. Faith in you rewrites destiny—eight siddhis, nine nidhis bloom at Janki’s decree.

33–40 (Climactic devotion)

Ram’s love is your eternal creed; through endless births, you’ll serve his need. Chant your Chalisa, break death’s snare—Ram’s abode waits, light as air. Tulsidas kneels, ink fused with prayer: "Brand my soul, Hanuman, stay there."

Sita’s Torment & The Flaming Tail

 Sita’s Torment & The Flaming Tail

A Demon’s Harem, A Queen’s Grace

The golden cages of Lanka’s pleasure halls swayed in the evening breeze, their bars thick with the musk of crushed flowers and desperation. The demon women peered through the latticework, their eyes glinting like knives in the lamplight. "Not this one," they murmured as Sita passed, her bare feet leaving faint imprints in the dust. "See how she sleeps? Like a child. Like a fool."

But the Ashoka grove was no kinder. Here, the trees bore thorns instead of fruit, and the rakshasis circled like jackals, their laughter sharp enough to draw blood. "How long will you cling to virtue?" they sneered. "Your Rama has forgotten you."

Sita said nothing. She sat as still as a carved idol, her silence a fortress no taunt could breach.

Ravana’s Threats, A Wife’s Defiance

Ravana came at dusk, his shadow stretching long across the grove. Ten heads tilted in mock sympathy, twenty eyes gleaming with hunger. "Gold or gallows—choose your fate," he rumbled, his voice thick with honeyed venom. "Bow, and I will drape you in jewels. Refuse, and the vultures will feast."

Sita did not look up. When she spoke, her words were quiet, but they carried the weight of a coming storm. "My lord will incinerate your lying tongue and rotting halls. Leave now, lest Rama’s arrow finds your throat before its time."

The demon king’s laughter shook the leaves from the trees. But when he turned to go, his golden bracelets trembled—ever so slightly—against his wrists.

The Ring, The Fire, The Architect’s Hand

Hanuman came like a shadow given form. He knelt before her, pressing Rama’s ring into her palm—the metal still warm from his grip. "He waits," the monkey whispered. "He grieves. And he will come."

Sita’s fingers closed around the jewel, her first tear striking the gold like a benediction.

Then—chaos.

Hanuman’s tail, dipped in oil and set ablaze, became a whip of divine fury. He leapt from roof to roof, the fire trailing behind him like a comet’s tail. Lanka’s towers, built by demons and arrogance, caught like tinder. The city burned, not with the rage of an invader, but with the precision of an architect dismantling his creation.

And as the sun rose over the smoldering ruins, a single figure stood untouched amid the flames—

Sita, her face lit by the glow of a husband’s promise.

Story: The king's dilemma

  

 Story: The king's dilemma

Dasharatha lost his composure on hearing Vishvamitra's words and cried, "O great sage! My lotus-eyed Rama isn't even 16 years of age." The king volunteered to accompany the sage instead, along with his army. He implored the great sage to tell him about the Rakshasas, their strength and their protector.

Vishvamitra told Dasharatha about Ravana, the powerful lord of the Rakshasas, and how he had urged Maricha and Subahu to obstruct the sages and their sacrifices.

The king, overwhelmed by grief for his son's life, begged the sage to reconsider. "The enemies you describe are fierce and skilled, and Rama is a child," he said. Maricha and Subahu were impossible to defeat, he said. Even he, as the king of Ayodhya with the might of his army, would only be able to battle one demon at a time. "I cannot give Rama to you," he said.

Vishvamitra looked at the king who had, but a short while ago, pledged to give him whatever he had wanted. Anger laced his words as the sage reminded the king that he came from the exalted Ikshvaku lineage.

"You are like the god of dharma yourself. If you break your pledge, you will destroy the fruits of all the sacrifices that were performed in the past. So, do not resort to adharma," he thundered.

So intense was Vishvamitra's rage that the earth shook and the gods trembled. Sage Vasishtha quickly intervened and convinced Dasharatha that Vishvamitra was an ideal guardian and would protect Rama. The king finally acceded to the sages' wishes.

The brothers set forth

As Rama and Lakshmana left Ayodhya, flowers rained down from heaven. They walked half a yojana (about 6.5 km or 4 miles), until they reached the southern banks of the River Sarayu.

Vishvamitra asked them to touch water from the river and receive the divine powers, Bala and Atibala. With this, he said, Rama would not face hunger or thirst and would have incomparable strength.

The next morning, they walked to the confluence of the rivers Ganga and Sarayu, where they came upon Anga. home to a group of fierce sages who were disciples of Shiva, the god of Destruction. The princes and Vishvamitra decided they would spend the night here.

Rama by The Shore- waiting for Hanuman's message

 Rama by The Shore- waiting for Hanuman's message

Pleased with the news Hanuman brought him, Rama embraced the Vanara, and the vast and powerful Vanara army marched to the ocean shore. Yet, the young, exiled prince of Ayodhya could not help but grieve for his beloved.

Rama spoke to Hanuman with great affection, "I cannot imagine anyone doing what you have done, except perhaps for Garuda, the king of birds. Who else could have entered that invincible city and returned alive and successful? Yet, I worry. How could we possibly go to where Sita is? How will this army cross the immense ocean?"

Keeping hope

Sugriva replied, "Mighty Rama, abandon this sorrow, for which I see no cause. You have strength, perseverance.

UNCHARTED WATERS

The painstaking search for Sita led the Vanaras to the southern ocean. Now, all that stood between Rama's army and Lanka was the vast and turbulent ocean a firm knowledge of the scriptures, and are endowed with intellect. I am certain that we shall cross the ocean. These warriors are full of enthusiasm to do your bidding and act for your sake. Your might will bring down the enemy and you will return to Ayodhya with Sita. "With allies like me, you will be victorious. Who among the beings in the three worlds could possibly stand before you when your bow is raised in battle? You will soon see Sita. Abandon sorrow and arouse your righteous anger. Your victory is certain!"

A decisive plan

Sugriva's words comforted Rama, and he turned to Hanuman and said, "We are capable of crossing this vast ocean either by drying its waters or building a bridge. Tell me, how is Ravana's fortress protected?" The Vanara described Lanka's prosperity and fortifications, and said, "It is a fearsome fortress, difficult to vanquish, even for the gods. It is on the far end of the ocean, but you cannot navigate the waters near Lanka. It's on top of a mighty mountain. Large battalions guard the four gates, and there are millions of them in the centre. However, I broke the bridges, filled the moat, burnt the city, and destroyed the gates."

They did not need the entire army, Hanuman told Rama, as Angada, the crown prince, the Vanaras Dvivida, Mainda, and Nila, and Jambavan, the king of bears, were more than enough.

The instructions

Rama replied, "Lanka will be destroyed, Hanuman." He turned to Sugriva and spoke. "This is the right time to march to Lanka. The astronomical configurations are favorable for victory, and the sun is in the optimal position.

Tomorrow, it will shift.

Auspicious omens are appearing, and I know that I shall kill Ravana and be reunited with Sita."

Rama then turned to the army and gave instructions. He said, "Nila, go to the head of the army and lead it through a route that has plenty to eat. Gaja, Gavaya, and Gavaksha, go to the front, and I will be in the middle, riding on Hanuman, with Lakshmana on Angada."

The Kargil War

The Kargil War 

The Kargil War was an armed conflict between India and Pakistan that took place between May and July 1999 in the Kargil district of Jammu and Kashmir, along the Line of Control (LoC), which serves as the de facto border between the two countries in the region.

Background:

- The conflict was rooted in the long-standing territorial dispute over Kashmir, which has been a flashpoint between India and Pakistan since their independence in 1947.

- In early 1999, Pakistani soldiers and militants infiltrated into the Indian side of the LoC, occupying strategic high-altitude positions in the Kargil region. Pakistan initially denied involvement, claiming the infiltrators were Kashmiri militants, but evidence later revealed the participation of Pakistani troops.

Key Events:

- The Indian Army discovered the infiltration in May 1999 and launched **Operation Vijay** to evict the intruders.

- The war was fought in harsh, high-altitude terrain, making it one of the most challenging military campaigns in modern history.

- India mobilized significant military resources, including air power (**Operation Safed Sagar**), to dislodge the Pakistani forces.

- Intense fighting occurred in key locations such as Tololing, Tiger Hill, and Point 4875 (later renamed **Gun Hill** in honor of Captain Vikram Batra, a war hero).

International Involvement:

- The international community, including the United States, pressured Pakistan to withdraw its forces, as the conflict raised fears of a potential nuclear escalation between the two nations.

- Pakistan eventually withdrew its troops under international pressure, and India regained control of the occupied positions by late July 1999.

Aftermath:

- The war resulted in significant casualties on both sides, with India officially reporting around 500 soldiers killed and Pakistan's casualties estimated to be higher.

- The conflict further strained India-Pakistan relations and highlighted the risks of nuclear confrontation in South Asia.

- In India, the Kargil War is remembered as a symbol of national pride, with the bravery of soldiers celebrated annually on **Kargil Vijay Diwas** (July 26).

The Kargil War remains a significant event in the history of India-Pakistan relations, underscoring the ongoing tensions over Kashmir and the fragility of peace in the region.

"Kargil: A Symphony of Sacrifice"

Kargil, O Kargil, your name echoes far,

A sentinel of mountains, where the brave are.

On ridges high, where the cold winds scream, 

Heroes stood firm, defending a dream. 

 

With hunger-gnawing, and frostbitten hands,

They climbed the cliffs and crossed treacherous lands. 

Grenades strapped tightly, they faced the fight, 

For Mother India, they embraced the night. 

 

Snow-covered peaks, where the eagles soar, 

Witnessed the valour, the thunderous roar.

Through ravines deep, and slopes so steep,

They crawled, they fought, their promise to keep.

 

They threw away meals, to carry more fire,

Ammunition and courage were their only desire. 

Enemy bunkers, built in stealth and deceit, 

Were blown to dust, their plans faced defeat.

 

The tricolour rose, through smoke and pain, 

On Tiger Hills, it waved again.

A lesson taught, in blood and pride, 

To those who betrayed and chose to divide.

 

O Kargil, your name, etched in sacred stone, 

A hallowed ground, where martyrs are known.

Pilgrims will come, with incense and tears,

To honour the fallen, through countless years.

 

Their war cry still echoes, in valleys and skies,

A nation’s gratitude, that never dies.

Through biting cold, and the enemy’s snare,

They proved their love, beyond compare.

 

O Kargil, you kindled a spirit anew,

A flame of patriotism, bold and true.

In every heart, your story is told,

Of courage unyielding, and spirits bold.

 

Be wary, O foe, for India has risen,

No more shall we fall to treachery’s prison.

The torch of vigilance, we now hold high,

Under the tricolour, we’ll never die.

 

To the martyrs of Kargil, we bow our heads,

Your sacrifice lives, though you’ve left your beds.

In deserts, plains, or mountains severe,

Your legacy whispers, “We stand firm here.”

 

Hats off to the brave, the heart-winners true,

You made the nation proud, in all that you do.

Through history’s pages, your names will gleam,

Forever alive, in our hearts and our dream.

 Tribute to Leadership
In year 1999, when shadows loomed near,
A leader arose, with a vision clear.
Atal Bihari, with wisdom and might,
Guided the nation through the darkest night.

Operation Vijay, under his steady hand,
Reclaimed the heights, and freed the land.
A nuclear power, he made us stand tall,
A statesman revered, and beloved by all.

His words were a balm, his resolve like steel,
In peace and in war, he served with zeal.
Through Kargil’s triumph, his legacy grew,
A beacon of hope, for the red, white, and blue.

Kargil, O Kargil, your name we revere,
A symbol of courage, both far and near.
Your story reminds us, through darkness and strife,
The cost of freedom, the sanctity of life.

Narada

 

Narada

Narada, the celestial sage born from Brahma’s mind, is a devoted messenger of Vishnu, renowned for his wisdom and wandering nature. He plays a pivotal role in sacred texts, guiding Vyasa to compose the Puranas and inspiring Valmiki with the tale of Rama.

When Valmiki seeks an ideal man, Narada describes Rama: virtuous, mighty, and radiant as the gods. Later, while meditating by the Tamasa River, Valmiki witnesses a hunter kill a mating curlew.

A curlew is a medium-sized or large shorebird and having a bill that is decurved, or sickle-shaped, curving downward at the tip. Curlews are marked, gray or brown birds with long necks and long legs.

The birds devoted themselves to each other, they seemed unaware to the sage. As they made love, they were so engrossed in each other that they did not notice the Nishada (hunter) nearby.

As the great sage looked at the birds, the Nishada struck the male with an arrow. It fell to the ground, trembling and soaked in its blood. Seeing her dying mate, the female cried out in pathetic tones. Valmiki saw the struggling bird. desperate for life and heard the cries of separation of the female.

Shocked at this cruel interruption of love.

Valmiki, overwhelmed with grief, reacted with deep compassion and pain.

He spoke: The first shloka

maa nishaada pratishtha

tvam/ agamah shashvatech samah//

yat-kraunca-mithunad-ekam/avadhih kama-mohitam //

("O Nishada! This couple of curlews was in the throes of passion and you killed one of them. Therefore, you will possess ill repute for an eternal number of years.")

Astonished that he had spoken these words aloud, Valmiki wondered, "What are these words that I have uttered while overcome with sorrow?"

Grief, in verse-

Overcome by grief, Valmiki suddenly utters a rhythmic curse—the first shloka—birthing Sanskrit poetry. This moment transforms sorrow into art, marking the dawn of epic storytelling.

When Hanuman reached Lanka

 When Hanuman reached Lanka

When Hanuman crossed the ocean and reached Lanka, some versions of the Ramayana tell of his encounter with the city’s guardian deity. After defeating her, she revealed an ancient prophecy—Brahma had foretold that a vanara would conquer her, signaling doom for the rakshasas. In Krittibas Ojha’s Bengali retelling, the guardian is Chamunda, who had been waiting for Hanuman, as Shiva had told her she could only return home once she met him.

Hanuman, undeterred by his journey, shrank to a tiny form to avoid detection. Lanka’s splendor awed him—golden ramparts, towering palaces, and fierce rakshasa guards. Vishvakarma, the divine architect, had built this fortress, and Hanuman wondered: Even if Rama arrives, how will he breach these walls? But his mission was clear—find Sita.

A City of Illusions

Under the cover of night, Hanuman slipped into Ravana’s palace, where a thousand queens lay in deep slumber. None bore the grief of captivity—none could be Sita. He saw Ravana himself, resplendent on a crystal throne, and Mandodari, his queen, but Sita was nowhere. A flicker of doubt arose: Had Ravana killed her? Had she perished in despair?

For a moment, guilt gnawed at him—Is it wrong to gaze upon these women?—but he reassured himself: My mind is pure; my duty is just. Yet, the fear remained—what if Sita was already lost? The consequences of failure loomed: Rama’s heartbreak, the fall of the Ikshvakus, the ruin of the vanaras. I cannot return empty-handed, he resolved. I will search until I find her—or perish trying.

Divine Guidance

As despair threatened to overtake him, Hanuman entered the Ashoka grove, praying to the gods for success. In Valmiki’s version, he merely glimpsed Vibhishana’s palace, but Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas adds a deeper layer—Hanuman noticed signs of Rama’s worship outside Vibhishana’s home. When Vibhishana awoke, murmuring Rama’s name, Hanuman approached. The righteous rakshasa reassured him, guiding him to Sita’s hidden prison.

This moment—where faith meets fate—shows Hanuman’s perseverance and the unseen hand of divine will. His journey through Lanka was not just a search but a test of devotion, wisdom, and unyielding resolve.

Hanuman’s Leap-A curse recalled

 Hanuman’s Leap-A curse recalled

The Underworld & The Ocean’s Edge

The earth split like an overripe fruit, revealing a cavern where time itself seemed to petrify. From the darkness, a voice rose—weathered but regal, the sound of stone remembering it was once flesh. "I waited, Hanuman, for you." The statue’s eyes, long sealed by a curse, crumbled to dust as he approached. "Break these chains," she whispered, "and let the light return." His fingers found the cracks in ancient enchantment, and with a roar, the prison shattered. Sunlight, absent for centuries, flooded the underworld.

Sampathi's Wings, A Brother’s Redemption

The vulture king’s wings were ruins—charred relics of a brother’s failed defiance. But at the name Jatayu, something stirred in the hollow bones. "You knew him?" Hanuman asked, and the crippled creature shuddered. Then, like dawn breaking over a battlefield, understanding came. "Rama!" Sampathi bellowed, and with that cry, the desiccated feathers caught fire—not with flame, but with golden radiance. Muscle and sinew reknit as the sun’s blessing surged through him. Where a broken thing had crouched, now stood a king of the skies once more.

Hanuman’s Leap, A Curse Recalled

The ocean roared its challenge, waves gnashing like teeth. "You once could touch the moon’s high crest," Jambavan murmured, the memory sparking in Hanuman’s blood. The forgotten power awoke—not as a flood, but as a tide returning. One step forward, and the mountain became a pebble beneath him. One breath, and the wind itself held still in expectation. Then—release.

Lanka’s towers, arrogant in their distance, suddenly trembled. Something brighter than their stolen gold was coming. The sea would not be crossed.

It would be ignored.

Amar Nath Cave, Kashmir

Amar Nath Cave, Kashmir

The history of the Amarnath cave shrine is rooted in both ancient texts and local traditions. Its earliest mention is found in the Nilamata Purana, a text that describes the religious life of the people of Kashmir. Other references appear in texts such as the Bhrigu Samhita (“Compendium of Bhrigu”), an astrological treatise attributed to the sage Bhrigu, and the Amarnath Mahatmya. The 12th-century chronicle Rajatarangini (Sanskrit: “River of Kings”), by the historian Kalhana, records that Sandimati, a ruler of Kashmir (34–17 BCE), visited the ice lingam.

A reference to the Amarnath cave appears in the 17th-century travelogue Travels in the Mogul Empire by French physician François Bernier. Recounting his 1664 trip with the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb, Bernier described a “grotto full of wonderful congelations”—referring to the ice formations—in the Kashmir mountains, now identified as the Amarnath cave.

Folklore from Kashmir recounts the cave’s discovery by a shepherd named Buta Malik. According to legend, a sage gave Malik a sack of coal, which turned into gold when the shepherd reached home. Malik went back to thank the sage but found only the sacred cave housing the naturally formed ice lingam. He shared his discovery with villagers, transforming the cave into a pilgrimage site.

…

"The same ice that witnessed kings of old
Now meets the gaze of pilgrims bold—
A thousand years may come and pass,
Yet still the lingam holds its glass:
Eternal mirror to man's quest,
Where past and present merge, then rest."

Amarnath Temple has a limestone cave entrance, measuring approximately 120 feet (36 meters) wide and 75 feet (23 meters) high, sloping down about 80 feet (24 meters) into the mountain. The lingam forms from water droplets that drip from the cave ceiling and then freeze. Because the lingam is made of ice, devotees refer to it as Baba Barfani (Hindi: “Lord of Ice”). Its size gradually increases from May to August and is traditionally believed to wax and wane with the lunar phases, reaching its peak on the full-moon day in the Hindu calendar month of Shravana (July–August). Two smaller ice formations represent Parvati and lord Ganesha.

The Amarnath yatra

Pilgrims make their way along a high-altitude Himalayan trail, devotees trek toward the Amarnath cave during the annual yatra in Jammu and Kashmir.

The most well-known origin story of the Amarnath pilgrimage is found in the Sanskrit text Bringesha Samhita. It recounts how sage Bringesha taught his disciples the significance of the Amarnath cave and guided them to visit the lingam. As the pilgrims faced threats from rakshasas (demons), Bringesha prayed to Shiva, who gifted him a silver mace for protection. This mace—later known as the Chhari Mubarak—has remained central to the yatra, which culminates annually during the Hindu festival of Raksha Bandhan, observed on the full moon of August. The event is marked by a ceremonial procession of the mace to the cave, led by its custodian and accompanied by sadhus (ascetics) and devotees chanting mantras to Shiva—who is often addressed as Bhole—such as “bam bam Bhole” (“Hail Bhole!”).

Pilgrims use two primary routes to the temple: a 28-mile (45-km) trek from Pahalgam or a 9-mile (14-km) route from Baltal. Though the terrain is challenging and the altitude demanding, improvements—such as drivable roads, medical facilities, and, in some years, helicopter services—have made the pilgrimage safer. Horses, ponies, mules, and palanquins are often used by pilgrims to reach the temple. To ensure safety and effective crowd management, all pilgrims have to register with the Shri Amarnath Shrine Board, adhere to safety guidelines, and carry radio-frequency identification (RFID) tags for tracking and security.

The Promise to Rama: A Tale of Duty and Loyalty

 The Promise to Rama: A Tale of Duty and Loyalty

After Sugreeva became the king of Kishkindha, he turned to Rama for guidance. "What should I do now?" he asked. Rama smiled and advised him to rule wisely, follow the path of justice, and care for his people. Sugreeva begged Rama to stay in the palace as an honored guest, but Rama refused. "When the rainy season ends," he said, "bring your army to help me rescue Sita."

As the monkeys returned to their kingdom, Hanuman wished to stay with Rama, but Rama gently told him, "Stay with Sugreeva. Guide him, for a king needs wise counsel." Hanuman obeyed, and Rama and Lakshmana built a simple hut in the forest.

Soon, the rains poured down, and Rama grew sad. He thought of Sita, alone and suffering, while he sat sheltered. Lakshmana comforted him, saying, "We will find her, brother. Stay strong." Rama, though heartbroken, did not let despair cloud his judgment—unlike Ravana, who let anger rule him.

When the rains stopped, Rama waited eagerly for Sugreeva’s army. But days passed, and no one came. "Has Sugreeva forgotten his promise?" Rama wondered. He sent Lakshmana to Kishkindha with a stern warning: "If Sugreeva has betrayed us, he must face the consequences."

Meanwhile, in Kishkindha, Sugreeva had lost himself in luxury. Surrounded by wine and laughter, he ignored his duties. Prince Angada saw Lakshmana approaching, furious, and rushed to wake his uncle—but Sugreeva wouldn’t listen.

Desperate, Angada called for Queen Tara and Hanuman. Tara, wise and strong, scolded them all. "Have you forgotten Rama’s help? We gave our word!" Her words shamed the people, and they barred the city gates, fearing Lakshmana’s wrath.

Hanuman, ever loyal, knew what had to be done. "We must honor our promise," he told Sugreeva. "Rama saved you—now you must save Sita."

Realizing his mistake, Sugreeva shook off his laziness. "Gather the army!" he commanded. "We march for Rama!"

And so, the monkeys prepared for war, remembering that true kings—and true friends—keep their promises.

Moral: A wise leader never forgets their duty, and loyalty is the greatest strength of all.