A promise to return

  

A promise to return

Hanuman prepared to leave Lanka bearing Sita's messages to Rama and Lakshmana and a plea from her to return as soon as possible. Ravana's one-year deadline had nearly come to an end and Sita knew that time was running out.

Sita told Hanuman to ask Rama why he had not come to Lanka to rescue her. She said, "Tell him that I said, 'O bull among men, you directed that fatal arrow towards the crow for pecking at me. Would you not render unto me that compassion, intermingled with immense strength? I heard that compassion is great dharma.

I know that the gods cannot withstand your strength in battle. Why would you not release your weapons at this Rakshasa? Why does Lakshmana not rescue me at Rama's command?'"

Rama will come

Hanuman comforted her and said, "I swear to you, Rama has turned away from all pleasures out of his love for you. Lakshmana is tormented by Rama's sorrow. The time for grief is over. Those two lions among men will soon arrive. Rama will kill Ravana in battle and take you with him to Ayodhya." He asked Sita if there was anything else she wanted to tell Rama, Lakshmana, or Sugriva, the Vanara king.

Sita replied, "Offer to the son of the great Kaushalya my obeisance and ask after his well-being on my behalf.

"Ask after the well-being of Sumitra's son, Lakshmana, who followed Rama into the forest, abandoning all luxuries, and even his parents. He even protected Rama in the forest. He considers me as his mother and Rama as his father, and is dearer to Rama than even I am. He could not have known I was being abducted. He carries whatever burden is on him.

"You do not need much instruction, great Vanara. Act in such a way that Rama comes quickly. Tell him I will bear my life somehow for a month, but no longer."

A token for Rama

Sita removed her crown jewel, the Chudamani, which she wore on top of her head, tied it in a garment, and handed it to Hanuman.

"This will remind him of three persons: myself. his mother, and the great king Dasharatha," she said. Hanuman accepted the powerful jewel with due respect, circumambulated her, and slipped it onto his finger.

Hanuman suddenly felt lighter, as if a huge burden had been lifted. He felt a deep sense of delight for he had finally seen Sita.

Sita asked him if he wanted to stay and rest. "Your company is a reprieve from this otherwise torturous existence. The ocean is immense -how will the Vanara army cross over the ocean?" she asked.

"How will the princes come? There are, perhaps, only three who can cross this distance: yourself, Vishnu's mount, Garuda, or the wind. You are indeed up to the task of my rescue, but it shall befit Rama to come himself. Act so that it comes about that way."

Hanuman reassured her. "Sugriva is honest and determined, and the Vanara are under his orders. Do not worry about their strength. They are all as powerful as me or stronger. If I could come here, there is no doub they will too. Enough grief now, wipe away your sorrov The brothers will come soon defeat Ravana, and take you safely to Ayodhya."

Sita replied, "Your words comfort me, like rain on parched earth. For a month I shall live, but no more."

A test of Ravana's strength

Hanuman left the grove, but felt that he had only accomplished a part of the task. He could not go back across the ocean, just yet, he thought. It was important to assess the strengths and weaknesses of the enemy. "Of the four means for engaging others. conciliation will not work with Rakshasas. Nor will the employment of wealth because they are themselves prosperous. Bringing abon divisions will be ineffective too because they are proud and mighty people. This only leaves the exercise of fouz I must figure out a way to compel Ravana to send his army to fight me, so that I get a sense of his strength." Hanuman decided that there was only one way t do that. "First, I will destroy this grove, like fice that runs through a dry forest," he thought. "Then, I will slay the Rakshasas that Ravana sends to attack me. Only then will I return to the king of the Vanaras."

ALTERNATIVE ACCOUNT

RAVANA'S IMPATIENCE

In the medieval Sanskrit text Adhyatma Ramayana, it is made clear that Ravana actually seeks death at the bands of the Supreme Lord manifested as Rama, and is left wondering why Rama had not yet arrived. The night Hanuman enters Lanka, Ravana dreams of a Vanara who can change his shape at will in the Astioka grove. On waking, Ravana decides to go and torment Sita while the Vanara watches to that he is forced to go and tell Rama, compeling him to come quickly. Ravana then insults Rama in Sita's presence through statements that can be read as praise and insults.

Inside Lanka

  

 

Inside Lanka

The leap across the ocean did not exhaust Hanuman. Realizing that his immense form would attract too much attention, he returned to his original appearance and walked towards the great city of Lanka. Would he find Sita there?

Hanuman looked around the island, which was a sight to behold, with its forests and rivers. Ravana's Lanka was on the peak of the Trikuta mountain and equalled the city of the gods in its prosperity and splendour.

The impenetrable fort

He approached the city and took in the moat with its flowers, and the golden rampart. Mighty Rakshasas guarded Lanka, which Vishvakarma, the architect of the gods, had built. "What would have been the use if the Vanaras had managed to get here," Hanuman wondered. "What will even Rama do when he reaches this impenetrable fort? These Rakshasas do not look amenable to diplomacy, gifts, or schemes. In any case, only four of us Angada, Nila, Sugriva, and 1-can get here.

"For now," he told himself. "Find Sita and determine if she still lives." He stood outside the city for a moment, wondering how to achieve his goal and Rama's end. Even the wind seemed t move under careful scrutiny in Ravana's realm.

So, Hanuman abandoned his regular form and made himself smaller than a gnat and waited. As the moon rost and shrouded the city in a cascade of moonlight, he entered the gates.

Lanka was divided by pathways and rows of palaces that were seven or eight storeys high. The city's prosperity and invincibility worried Hanuman, but he continued his search for Sita. Finally, he saw Ravana's palace and sensed the beautiful fragrances that filled it. Inside, he saw a thousand of his queens lying entangled, exhausted after that night's sport. None of them seemed to have been brought there forcibly, and they all appeared to love Ravana.

For a moment, Hanuman wondered if any of them could be Sita, but dismissed that thought. He continued walking and saw Ravana, reclining on a bejewelled crystal bed, and retreated. Seeing Mandodari, the king's beautiful wife, Hanuman wondered if she could be Sita. "Sita would not sleep this peacefully when she is separated from Rama. She would not dress up or drink, or be so close to another man - and what man could equal Rama anyway?" he thought.

A moment of doubt

Soon, Hanuman, struck by anxiety about dharma, thought, "Looking at other women is censured, and 1 have been looking at so many sleeping women. This will certainly destroy my dharma."

He resolved this thought soon. "Yes, I looked but there was no disturbance in my mind, and the mind is the root of the activity of the senses," he told himself.

A more immediate, serious worry took place. "I cannot see Sita anywhere, so she must be dead. This Rakshasa must have killed her as she tried to defend herself, or she slipped as he ascended the sky. Could it be that she saw the immense ocean and her heart simply stopped? Perhaps Ravana or the Rakshasis ate her." He renewed his efforts, but when he still could not find her, he began to panic.

"If I return without seeing her, what will Rama and Lakshmana say? What will I tell my comrades? If I tell Rama that I did not see her, he will certainly die. If he dies, Lakshmana cannot live and neither can Bharata or Shatrughna or their mothers.

"If Rama dies, Sugriva will not live, and Taaraa, Angada, and the rest of the Vanaras will also die. No, the end of the Ikshvakus and Vanaras will not be by my hand. I will not return. I will live here as a mendicant, or enter the sea."

He renewed his efforts and soon came upon the Ashoka grove. He invoked the deities, saying, "Obeisance to Rama and Lakshmana, to that daughter of Janaka. Obeisance to Rudra, Wind, Yama, Indra, Sun, Moon and the Maruts. Obeisance to Sugriva and all the deities.. Grant me success." So saying, he entered the grove.

…

ANALYSIS

LANKA PERSONIFIED

When Hanuman enters Lanka, in some recensions of Valmiki's Ramayana, he encounters the guardian deity of Lanka. When Hanuman defeats her, she tells him of Brahma, the Creator of the universe's prophecy that a Vanara would defeat her, and that it would mark terror for the Rakshasas. This story is retold in many versions, but in Bengali poet Krittibas Ojha's retelling, it is the goddess Chamunda whom Hanuman encounters. Her consort, Shiva, had told her that she could only return home when she had met Hanuman.

ALTERNATIVE ACCOUNT

A MEETING WITH VIBHISHANA

In Valmiki's Ramayana, Hanuman merely sees Ravana's brother Vibhishana's palace as he passes by. In Awadhi poet Tulsidas's Ramcharitmanas, he stops at Vibhishana's house, noticing the signs of his devotion to Rama in the objects of worship outside. When Vibhishana wakes up and remembers Rama's sacred name, Hanuman is determined to go and speak to him. He comforts Vibhishana by reminding him of Rama's compassion, and Vibhishana tells him how to get into the Ashoka grove where Sita is confined.

The Vanara army gathers

 The Vanara army gathers

Sugriva's messengers went out in all directions to gather the Vanaras that lived in the five great mountains, the lotus groves, forests, and hermitages. They arrived in the millions, on their king's command, to be Rama's army, battle Ravana, and rescue Sita

Countless Vanaras heard the command of their king Sugriva, who was like death itself in his ferocity. They came from all corners of the land and the great mountains of Mahendra, the Himalayas, the Vindhyas, Kailasa, and Mandara.

Pleased, Sugriva and Lakshmana left for Rama's abode on Mount Prasravana, on a golden palanquin, to the auspicious sounds of conch shells and drums. Surrounded by his fierce commanders and soldiers, he resembled the sun.

Friends reunited

Rama saw Sugriva and his army approach his cave, their hands joined in salutation, out of respect. Almost immediately, his dissatisfaction dissolved, and he embraced Sugriva and asked him to be seated.

Rama spoke up. "The king who pursues dharma, economic and political prosperity, and desire at the appropriate times and in appropriate measure is a real king, best of the Vanaras. However, the one who pursues only desire, abandoning the other two, is like a person sleeping on the branch of a tree. Destroyer of enemies, the time for our endeavour has arrived.

Contemplate the course of action with your advisers."

Sugriva replied, "I have regained lost fame and glory only because of you, Rama. Look, here are the chiefs of the Vanaras, fierce to look at and familiar with various kinds of geography. They are the sons of gods and Gandharvas (magical beings) and can take on any form. They travel with immense battalions. There are brave Vanaras, Golangulas (apes with special powers). and bears, arriving like the great Indra. king of gods. They shall go to war on your behalt, kill Ravana, and reunite you with Sita."

Rama praised him, "Just as it is not surprising that Indra causes rain, and the sun removes darkness, so it is only natural that a friend like you should act in my interest. With you as my protector, I shall defeat all enemies. Ravana abducted Sita for his own destruction

The glorious army

As he spoke, immense dust clouds rose, covering even the sun. The ground began to shake and the mountains, forests, and groves quaked. Soon, the entire earth seemed covered by the army of the Vanaras. They poured in from all directions, the strongest Vanaras from the forests. rivers, mountains, and seas, offspring of the gods with Vanara women (See pp 40-41). A large force accompanied each chieftain. The brave Shatabali arrived with 100,000 million Vanaras, as did Sushena, Taaraa's father, whose face glowed like a golden mountain. Hanuman's father, wise Kesari, with a complexion that resembled lotus fibres, arrived, surrounded by a contingent of a million Vanaras. Gavaksha, the king of Golangulas, terrible in valour, was seen as well, surrounded by his army of 10,000 million Vanaras. The slayer of enemies and known for his speed, Dhumra, the lord of all the bears, came with his warriors, as did Panasa and Nila, with armies of Vanaras as far as the eye could see. Darimukha had 10,000 million Vanaras with him, Gandhamandana brought thousands of millions of Vanaras, while Angada came with a billion, and Mainda and Dvivida brought 10,000 million each.

The great warrior Tara, who could be seen from a distance like a radiant star, brought 50 million Vanaras while Rambha, with a face like the rising sun, arrived with 11,100 Vanaras.

Hanuman came as well, with 10,000 million mighty Vanaras, terrible in valour, like the great Mount Kailasa.

They roared and leapt high in the air. They approached Sugriva, like giant clouds that covered the sky, and honored their king with folded hands.

LOCATION

MOUNTAINS IN THE RAMAYANA

Several mountains are listed when describing the places from where the Van are to be brought forth. Five of them seem to form a set - Mahendra, the Himalayas, the Vindhyas, Kailasa, and Mandara. Valmiki also names the mountains where the sun rises and sets and the mighty Meru and Maharuna. Of these, the Himalayas are personified most often. Mahendra is sometimes identified with the upper ranges of the Western Ghats in India, whereas the Vindhyas occupy central India. Mandara served as the base for the churning of the ocean. Mount Meru has an extensive mythological and Puranic apparatus, which often goes along with an understanding of its mystical significance.

Not much is known about the Maharuna, apart from this mention. Kailasa is most famous as the abode of Shiva, the Destroyer, as well as Kubera, the god of wealth, and continues to be of great significance. The locus of Kailasa has a great cross-sectarian and trans-Asian appeal due to the importance of that region not only for Hindus but also for certain Buddhist communities.

The Pledge of Friendship

 The Pledge of Friendship

When Sugriva realized that Rama and Lakshmana were not there to kill him, but wanted to form an alliance, he happily agreed to help them. He consoled the grieving Rama and promised to find Sita. Theirs would prove to be a powerful friendship.

Hanuman returned to his Vanara form and carried the princes to Rishyamuka. After reassuring Sugriva, who was hiding on Mount Malaya, Hanuman introduced Rama and Lakshmana to him as the sons of Dasharatha, from the lineage of Ikshvaku kings. He told Sugriva of Rama's exile and Sita's abduction and said, "Rama seeks your friendship.

Accept the brothers, honour them, worship them."

No longer anxious, Sugriva assumed a human form and accepted the offer.

Forging an alliance

Sugriva said, "Hanuman has told me of your humility in righteousness, asceticism, and compassion. I am honoured by your desire to form an alliance of friendship with me. If it pleases you, here is my arm, extended towards you in friendship. Accept my hand with yours and let this bond be firm."

Rama held Sugriva's hand in a firm grasp as Hanuman lit a sacred fire, made the appropriate offerings, and placed it between them.

Rama and Sugriva then circumambulated the fire. They looked at each another with immense affection, and Sugriva said, "Hanuman has explained why you are here. I will return your beloved Maithili to you no matter what the means and from whichever realm she has been hidden in." He told Rama that he may have seen Sita. "We were sitting on a hilltop when a weeping woman threw down a cloth and ornaments. It could have been your wife being carried across the sky," he said.

A friend's consolation

Sugriva brought forth the ornaments and, seeing them, Rama's eyes filled with tears as he held them close. He showed them to Lakshmana, who looked at them with reverence and said, "I do not know her armlets or earrings, but I know her anklets, as I worshipped her feet every day."

Rama asked Sugriva with some desperation, "Where did you see her taken? Where does this Rakshasa live? What is the strength of his armies? Which family does he belong to?" Sugriva said he did not know the answers, but added, "Do not lose hope, O scorcher of enemies. I am an ordinary Vanara and I have not grieved over my wife's abduction in such a way. You are an illustrious man, known for his forbearance and virtue across the land. Those who lose themselves to grief don't find joy, and their strength and valour diminish. Do not think I presume to preach to you. I merely speak as a friend."

Rama offers his help

Rama wiped his tears and embraced Sugriva, "You only speak as a friend would, Sugriva. Pacified by your affectionate address, I have returned to my natural state. You have promised to help me find Sita. Now, O tiger among Vanaras, tell me what I can do for you. Whatever you need will come to be, like the seeds in a well-prepared field during the monsoon. What I have said in pride, take as bare fact, for I have neither uttered a lie in the past, nor s shall I in the future. This, I swear upon truth itself." Hearing the words of the mighty Rama, Sugriva knew his endeavour would be successful. "The gods must be smiling upon me today, for how else could a scion of the Raghus be my friend, witnessed by the sacred fire? One may win the kingdom of the gods with a friend such as you by one's side, what of my own kingdom. Friends, whatever state they may have fallen into, and whatever state one may fall into, remain the ultimate refuge," he said. He then told Rama the story of his misfortune.

Origin of Shiva’s Worship in Kashmir

 Origin of Shiva’s Worship in Kashmir

Before we speak of sages deep, of Abhinavagupta’s flame,

Let us trace the ancient stream from where Śiva’s glory came.

In Kashmir’s dawn, the songs were sung of powers high and wide,

Of Śiva and His radiant Shakti ever at their side.

The Nilamata Purāṇa tells of gods in varied guise,

Of Ganesa, Vedic lords, and Buddhas yet to rise.

Yet through the crowd of many forms, one presence shone above—

The Lord of dance, of death and birth, and Parvati, His love.

The Nagas dwelt by mountain streams, by cloud and serpent known,

Their faith was entwined with ancient rites and mysteries of their own.

Old Nikumbha, spirit-king, was honoured in their song,

Yet through it all, fair Śiva’s name was whispered deep and long.

Though Buddhism touched the valley’s rim, its shadow faint and small,

The primal pulse of Śiva’s grace still echoed overall.

A mingling of the old and new, of earth and sky and fire,

Thus, Kashmir’s heart was shaped and stirred by Śiva’s vast desire.

Sundra

Sham Misri

 

On Bushan’s six-month ceremony

A Tender Farewell to Our Beloved Baiji

Six months have passed since you left us, Bhushan Misri—our dear Baiji—yet the weight of your absence lingers like an unfinished melody. Today, as we gather to honor your memory in solemn ceremony, our hearts ache with the quiet sorrow of missing you, even as they swell with gratitude for the luminous legacy you left behind.

Born in April 1941, amidst the blossoms of spring, you arrived as a promise—a jewel, just as your name foretold. Bhushan: an ornament, a brilliance that adorned not only your family but all whose lives you touched. Your mother, Soma, cradled you with hope; your father, Janki, named you with a poet’s vision, foreseeing the radiance you would bring into the world. And so, you did—through your wisdom, your gentle grace, and the quiet strength of your character.

A scholar, an engineer, a visionary, you shaped the very foundations of progress in J&K; your work etched into the land you served. Yet beyond your professional triumphs, it was your kindness that defined you. The warmth of your presence, the depth of your ideas, the way you made even the simplest moments feel sacred—these are the gifts we clutch tightly now, like fragile treasures in trembling hands.

Baiji, you were our guiding star in life, and now, though parted from us, you shine still distant yet constant, a light in the vast sky of memory. We speak your name and feel the echo of your laughter, the weight of your wisdom, the love that outlives time itself.

Today, as prayers rise and tears fall, we whisper: You are missed. You are cherished. You are forever our Bhushan—our brightest ornament, our eternal adornment.

May your soul rest in peace, even as your light continues to guide us from afar.

With love and remembrance,
Your Family and All Who Hold You Dear

OM -Shanti… Shanti… Shanti

With tears in his eyes, it is your brother Sham, Bairaj, you would call me, remember. 

Hanuman’s Fire & The March to War

 Hanuman’s Fire & The March to War

I. The Flaming Tail (Divine Retribution)

The rakshasas laughed as they bound Hanuman’s tail in oil-soaked rags, their drunken jeers echoing through Lanka’s streets. A monkey in chains! What better sport? But Hanuman merely smiled—and grew.

His tail, now a towering inferno, lashed like a whip of divine fury. He shrank, slipped free, and with a single leap, became a living wildfire. Gold domes melted beneath his footsteps. Palaces crumbled into ash. The winds themselves howled "Burn, Lanka, burn!"—a chorus of retribution.

Only when the ocean’s tides rushed in, hissing where salt met flame, did the fire sigh into submission. The last embers whispered "Rama’s name."

II. The Jewel’s Weight (Rama’s Tears)

Hanuman knelt before Rama, Sita’s choker gleaming in his palm—a fragment of moonlight in the prince’s endless night. "She lives," he said.

Rama’s tears fell upon the gem, its glow undimmed by captivity. Lakshman stood rigid, his fingers white around his bow—twelve years of fear honed to a razor’s edge.

"What boon can I grant you?" Rama cried.

Hanuman pressed his forehead to his lord’s feet. "Only this—let my heart beat until the last word of Your story is told."

III. The War Council (Ocean’s Defiance)

At Mahendra’s cliff, the sea roared its challenge. Sugriva’s fist struck stone. "We’ll bridge this brine or die trying!"

Nala, the architect of legends, unspooled vine-twine to measure the waves. "Each rock I cast will float," he vowed, "if it bears Ram-Nam etched upon its skin."

Then Angad roared, "Who dares the deep?" A billion paws answered. The cliffs trembled as the army of vanaras and bears hurled themselves into the tide.

IV. The Squirrel’s Stripes (A Tiny Ally’s Zeal)

Amid the giants, a dust-furred squirrel rolled pebbles toward the causeway, her body straining with absurd devotion.

Rama knelt. "Why labor so, little one?"

"All service counts," she chirruped.

Moved, he stroked her back with honeyed fingers—leaving three golden stripes upon her fur. "Now all time will know," he said, "that victory is woven not just by strength, but by love’s stubborn art."

V. The Bridge Rises (A Path of Faith)

Slab by slab, the bridge took form—stones buoyed by the weight of Rama’s name, not gravity. Bears heaved boulders; monkeys stacked them in rhythmic unison. The ocean, outmatched, bowed beneath their feet.

At last, Rama stepped onto the causeway, his bowstring humming a warning to the winds.

"Now, Lanka," he murmured, "hear dharma coming."

The Rule of a Woman-Kashmir

 The Rule of a Woman-Kashmir

This is the story of how Lord Krishna once became the worst enemy of the land of Kashmir.

King Gonanda, the first king of Kashmir, was a relative of the evil king, Jarasandha, whom Krishna was fighting.

"I must go to Jarasandha's aid," Gonanda informed his court.

"But, Sire," protested his ministers, "Jarasandha is wicked and cruel and Krishna has cause to be angry. It is wrong to join forces against Krishna."

"I know all this," said Gonanda, "but when a relative calls for help, I cannot ignore him. It is my duty to support Jarasandha." He glanced around the silent court and was touched by the grief-stricken faces of his ministers. "I must leave now," he said, "God willing, I will return. It will all happen as fate decrees."

The ministers remained desolate. Gonanda's prowess in battle was well known and feared. He was easily the strongest ruler that the land ever had. And yet, his might was combined with a gentleness and compassion that endeared him to all.

Soon after, Gonanda marched forth to Mathura with a large force. They reached their destination after several days and pitched their camp on the banks of the Kalindi (Yamuna) river.

Within the town, confusion reigned. "This king will destroy us," lamented the people. "Mathura is doomed!"

When Gonanda attacked the town, this prophecy was more than fulfilled. The soldiers of Mathura were crushed and the people ran helter-skelter, seeking to avoid retribution at Gonanda's hands. It was then that Balarama, Krishna's brother, stepped into the breach.

"Do not be disheartened," he told the shattered soldiers. "I will engage Gonanda in battle and destroy this mighty foe." Accordingly, armed with his plough, Balarama entered the battlefield and challenged Gonanda to a fight. The clash between the two was terrible to behold. At long last, Balarama, wounded and exhausted, drove home the final thrust that lulled the noble Gonanda.

Mathura rejoiced while Kashmir was sunk in gloom. Gonanda's son, Damodara, was crowned the king of Kashmir while tears of rage gushed from his eyes.

War Drums: The Siege of Lanka

 War Drums: The Siege of Lanka

I. The Beacons Ignite

The drums of war thundered across the shores of Lanka, their hides stretched taut, their rhythm like the pulse of a coming storm. Nila’s engineers, swift and precise, studied the tides, marking the moment when the ocean would yield its path. Rama knelt beside the floating stones, each one etched with the names of his warriors. "These rocks will bear our weight," he murmured, "but it is blood that will write our victory." With a final glance at the darkening horizon, he gave the command—"March."

II. Vibhishana’s Choice

Beneath the cloak of a storm-wracked dawn, Vibhishana crossed the bridge of sunlit stone, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. He had left behind his crown, his kin, even the golden spires of Lanka—all for the sake of a truth that burned brighter than loyalty.

Lakshman’s bow creaked, his arrow nocked, suspicion sharp in his eyes. But Rama stayed his hand. "A man who turns from darkness to light," he said, "is not our enemy, but our brother." Vibhishana bowed, his palms upturned—no longer a prince of demons, but a disciple of dharma.

III. The Gates Assaulted

Angad stood before Lanka’s gates, his challenge ringing through the air like a war-horn. With a single stamp of his foot, the earth cracked, the palace trembled, and Ravana’s throne split beneath him. The demon king only laughed. "Bring me Rama’s head," he commanded, and his legions surged forward—iron-fanged, chariot-borne, a tide of fury.

But the vanaras answered with boulders, with trees uprooted, with the raw strength of those who fight for justice. The clash shook the very foundations of Lanka.

IV. Kumbhakarna Rises

For six months, the giant had slept, his hunger a dormant beast. Now, summoned by war’s cacophony, Kumbhakarna awoke—and his first act was to devour the sun. Spears pierced his flesh, arrows studded his hide, yet still he roared, crushing friend and foe alike beneath his monstrous stride.

It was Lakshman who struck the fatal blow, his arrow finding the hidden vein beneath the demon’s skull. Kumbhakarna swayed, then fell like a mountain collapsing—his death tremor flattening the battlefield.

V. Indrajeet’s Shadow-Sorcery

The cruelest trick came like a dagger to Rama’s heart—a phantom Sita, lifeless in the air, her image torn and bleeding. For a single, terrible moment, despair threatened to unmake him.

Then Hanuman’s voice cut through the illusion. "Maya!" he cried. "See the lie for what it is!" Guided by Vibhishana’s wisdom, Lakshman stormed Nikumbhila’s hidden grove, where Indrajit chanted his dark rites. A single arrow silenced the sorcerer forever, his sacrificial flames turning to funeral pyres.

VI. The Final Duel

Ravana’s golden chariot gleamed like false promise as it rolled onto the battlefield. Rama stood before him, his bow steady, his voice colder than the void. "You stole light from the world," he said. "Now face the darkness you sowed."

For three days and nights, they fought—god against demon, destiny against defiance. And when at last Rama loosed the Brahmastra, its fire sheared through Ravana’s ten heads like a scythe through wheat. The demon king’s screams echoed into silence.

VII. The Pyres and The Return

Sita emerged from the ashes of her trial, unscathed, her purity proven by the flames themselves. Yet Rama’s eyes were shadowed, his heart a battlefield of duty and doubt.

Then the earth itself spoke. A great chasm opened, and the goddess Prithvi rose, cradling Sita in her arms. "This queen walked no sinner’s path," she declared. And with that, the last chains of suspicion fell.

Their journey home was a march of ghosts and glory. And when Rama at last stood before Bharat, his brother wept, pressing the worn sandals of exile to his forehead. "The throne was always yours," he whispered. The war was over. But its echoes would never fade.

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."