The great monkeys, knowing how ruthless and harsh Sugrīva could be, started on their journey, covering the earth like moths. And Rāma continued to live on the Prasravaṇa mountain with Lakṣmaṇa, waiting for the end of the one month that Sugrīva had stipulated for finding Sītā.
Heroic Śatabali set off for the beautiful northern regions ringed by the king of mountains, Himālaya. Vinata went west with his followers. Hanumān, the son of the Wind, went south with Angada to the region where Agastya lived. And Suṣeṇa went to the dreaded west, to the regions guarded by Varuṇa. Now that he had despatched the monkeys, Sugrīva, their king, went back to his happy life.
The monkeys went forth eagerly in their appointed directions. They roared and shouted and yelled in their excitement. ‘I shall bring Sītā back!’ ‘I shall kill Rāvaṇa!’ they boasted. ‘I will kill Rāvaṇa and pulverize all the other rākṣasas that I see! I will be the one who brings Sītā back!’ ‘Even if I am weak with exhaustion, I shall bring Sītā back, no matter if she is in the underworld!’ ‘I will uproot trees, tear down mountains, dig up the earth and agitate the ocean!’ ‘I can leap over the distance of one hundred yojanās!’ ‘I can leap more than that!’ ‘Nothing can stop me from searching the earth, the ocean, the mountains and the forests, even the underworld!’ And so the monkeys, proud of their strength and abilities, bragged and boasted to each other in the presence of their king.
The monkeys did not have too much trouble following Sugrīva’s directions as they searched all over for Sītā. They looked everywhere, in lakes and rivers, in wide open spaces and in thickets, in cities and areas in the mountains that were difficult to get to. They looked in the hills and forests of the regions Sugrīva had mentioned and they divided themselves into smaller groups to scour the area, determined to find Sītā. They would search all day and gather under fruit trees at night to sleep.
When a month had passed, they returned to their king, dejected and forlorn. Mighty Vinata, who had searched the east with his followers as he had been instructed, returned without seeing Sītā. Śatabali, who had searched the north with his forces, returned at the same time. Suṣeṇa, who had searched the west with his monkeys, came back at the end of the month.
They all went to Sugrīva, who was living on the slopes of Prasravaṇa with Rāma, and said, ‘We have looked in all the oceans, the mountains, the forests, the rivers, the cities and all the uninhabited places. We have looked in the caves that you mentioned and in the dense jungles overgrown with vines and creepers. We have looked in inaccessible places, in rough and impenetrable regions over and over again. We have seen impossibly huge creatures and we have killed them. But the great-souled Hanumān has gone to where Sītā has been taken and he is bound to find her!’
Meanwhile, Hanumān had gone with Angada to search the region assigned to them and they had started on their task. He went deep into the south with his monkeys and scoured the caves and the thickets of the Vindhyas. The monkeys looked everywhere, on the peaks, in places that were hard to access because of rivers, in lakes, in the huge trees and on other mountains dense with undergrowth, but nowhere did they see Sītā, the daughter of Janaka.
They moved from place to place in their search, living on different kinds of roots and fruits. They crossed over the Vindhyas into the neighbouring region that was barren and frightening. The bare trees bore neither fruit nor flowers. The rivers there ran dry and even roots were hard to find. There were no buffalo, no deer or elephants, no tigers, birds or any other kind of forest animals. There were no pools filled with fragrant lotuses and there were no bees.
The sage Kāṇḍu had once lived there. He was rich in austerities, but he was quick to anger and his solitary life had made him stern. His ten-year-old son had been killed in that forest and so the angry sage had cursed the entire forest, making it inhospitable to birds and animals. But the monkeys searched calmly even through that wilderness with its hills and hollows and thickets. Though they were eager to please Sugrīva, they saw no sign of Sītā or her abductor.
They went further into another frightful forest, thick with bushes and creepers, where they came upon a fearsome asura who was not afraid even of the gods. The monkeys saw him standing in front of them, as large as a mountain, and they girded their loins in preparation to attack. The mighty asura charged towards them, his clenched fists raised, shouting, ‘You are dead!’ Angada, the son of Vālī, mistook him for Rāvaṇa and struck him with his open palm. Blood poured from the asura’s mouth and he fell to the ground like a toppled mountain. Once he was dead, the victorious monkeys resumed their search of the caves. But they found nothing. Exhausted and utterly dejected, they assembled under a tree.
Though he was tired and miserable, Angada spoke gently to the monkeys and comforted them. ‘We have looked everywhere, in mountains, forests, rivers and deep caves but we have not find the goddess-like Sītā or the rākṣasa who carried her away. A great deal of time has passed. But Sugrīva is a hard taskmaster so we must continue to search. We must ignore our fatigue and disappointment and the drowsiness that steals over us and keep looking until we find Sītā. Enthusiasm, enterprise and a mind that does not give in to defeat are all necessary ingredients for success. That is why I am saying this to you.
‘Let us scour this dense and impenetrable jungle today. Raise your spirits and begin the search again! A sincere effort always produces results. Let us not sit around here and wallow in our depression! Sugrīva can mete out terrible punishments when he is angry. We must protect ourselves from his wrath as well as Rāma’s! I speak for your benefit. If you agree with me, do as I suggest, otherwise, you had better come up with another plan!’
Gandhamādana spoke up, his voice faint with fatigue and thirst. ‘Angada has made a good plan. You should accept his suggestion, monkeys, because it will be for your own good. Let us search through these hills and forests and caves and groves and these desolate mountains again!’
So the mighty monkeys rose and went back into the dense forests of the Vindhyas. They climbed the silver mountain, white as an autumn cloud, and searched among its peaks and valleys, its forests and groves, eager to find Sītā. But even when they reached the top of the mountain, utterly exhausted, they had found no sign of Rāma’s beloved. They examined every inch of the mountain and finally, they climbed down, looking around them as they came. They reached the bottom, tired and miserable, and rested for a moment before they reassembled under a tree. Somewhat revived, they began their search of the south all over again. Led by Hanumān, they searched every single inch of the Vindhyas.
They searched among the rocks and the hilly tracts of the mountains that were haunted by lions and tigers and they searched among the fast-flowing streams and waterfalls. And as they searched, the stipulated period of one month approached its end. The caves and crevices were hard to explore, but Hanumān searched them all. They went all over the southern region which was ringed by mountains on one side and the ocean on the other.
Exhausted and tormented by thirst, they finally came upon a cave which was almost entirely hidden by trees and creepers. They saw all kinds of birds flying out of its mouth, their bodies wet and smeared with the pollen from red lotuses. The monkeys were amazed for as they came closer, a delightful fragrance wafted from the cave. But the cave appeared hard to enter and they drew closer, suspicious and on their guard.
Hanumān, large as a mountain and familiar with forested areas, said, ‘We are tired and thirsty and though we have looked all over this area ringed by mountains, we have seen no sign of Sītā. But we have seen birds drenched with water coming out of this cave. There must be a stream or a well deep inside it. That would also explain these lush trees at the entrance.’
Following Hanumān, all the monkeys entered the enveloping darkness where no sun or moon was visible, a darkness so frightening, it made their hair stand on end. Inside the cave, there were all kinds of trees and, holding onto each other, the monkeys walked for a distance of about a yojanā. Fainting with hunger, thirst and fatigue, the monkeys went still deeper. Depressed and miserable, the monkeys had given up all hopes of survival when they suddenly came upon a wide open space that was brightly lit.
They found themselves in a pleasant forest where trees of gold blazed like fire and dazzled their eyes. There were all kinds of trees, some of them flowering, all of them as bright as the rising sun. They were surrounded by lapis and by blue lotuses and they were filled by birds. Pools the colour of the young sun teemed with gleaming golden fish and turtles. The monkeys saw huge mansions made of gold and silver by the waters. Their bright windows were decorated with strings of pearls, their gold and silver floors were studded with lapis and rubies. All around them were fruits and flowers that shone like coral and pearls, golden bees and lots of honey. There were couches and seats made of gold and studded with gems, huge vehicles, piles of gold and silver and bronze, heaps of priceless sandal and other unguents, the best and purest food and fruit, excellent drinks of honey and other juices as well as piles of exquisite clothes, carpets and fabrics.
The monkeys looked around the cave in wonder and suddenly, not far from them, they saw a woman ascetic. The monkeys were quite terrified when they saw her: she wore the skin of the black antelope, she obviously ate very little and she blazed with the power of her austerities. Hanumān joined his palms and honoured the old woman. ‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘Tell us whom this cave, these mansions and these jewels belong to!’
‘We came into the impenetrable darkness of this cave by chance,’ he continued. ‘We were tired and thirsty and wretched. But now that we have seen all the wonderful things inside the cave, we are thoroughly confused and a little frightened. Whom do these trees belong to, that shine like the sun? And these perfect foods and fruits? And these magnificent mansions made of gold and silver with windows decorated with strings of pearls? Whose power created these fruits and flowers with this divine fragrance, and the lotuses in crystal clear water? Are the fish and turtles that swim here really of gold? Is all this your doing? Or has it been created by the power of someone else’s austerities? Explain all this to us!’
‘There is an immensely powerful dānava named Maya,’ replied the virtuous woman, who was devoted to the welfare of all beings. ‘He created this golden forest with his magical powers. Long ago, he was the architect of the dānavas and that was when he built these golden mansions. He practised austerities in the forest for thousands of years and Brahmā gave him the boon of immense wealth. Maya made this forest and lived here happily for many years. But then, he fell in love with the apsaras Hemā and Indra killed him with his thunderbolt. Brahmā gave this wondrous forest, this golden house and these resources for unending pleasure to Hemā.
‘I am Svyamprabhā, the daughter of Merusavarṇi. I am the caretaker of this forest. My friend Hemā is an excellent dancer and musician and she allows me to take care of her home. What are you doing here? What are you doing in these dense forests and how did you find this magical place? Eat these wondrous foods, these roots and fruits, and enjoy these marvellous drinks. Then you can tell me everything!’
When the monkeys had refreshed themselves, Hanumān told the ascetic all about the abduction of Sītā, Rāma’s alliance with Sugrīva, their own fruitless search in the south and how they had chanced upon the cave.
‘You have fulfilled your duties towards your guests by giving us this food. But you have also saved our lives, for we were starving. Tell us what we can do to repay your kindness,’ said Hanumān as he finished his tale.
‘There is nothing to repay. I only did my duty and I am very pleased with you all,’ replied the omniscient ascetic.
Her righteous words moved Hanumān to say to that woman whose conduct was above reproach, ‘We beg you to help us, virtuous lady! While we have been in this cave, the time stipulated by Sugrīva has passed. You must help us get out of here and save us from Sugrīva’s wrath! We have been entrusted with an immensely important task and we have been unable to pursue it while we have been here.’
‘It is impossible to leave this cave alive once you have entered it!’ said the ascetic. ‘But I shall get the monkeys out with the powers I have earned from my disciplined life and from the practise of austerities. The monkeys will have to close their eyes tightly. No one gets out of here with his eyes open!’
The monkeys covered their eyes with their hands and in an instant the ascetic got them out of the cave. ‘This is the auspicious Vindhya mountain covered with trees and creepers,’ she said reassuringly. ‘That one there is Mount Prasravaṇa and there lies the ocean Mahodadhi. May all go well with you! I must now return to my home!’ she said and disappeared into the cave.
The monkeys gazed in horror at the massive ocean with its huge waves that roared and thundered. They realized that the month stipulated by Sugrīva had elapsed while they had been in the magic cave and now, sitting at the foot of the densely-wooded Vindhya mountain, the mighty monkeys fell to worrying.
Crown prince Angada, with shoulders as strong as a lion’s and mighty arms, spoke. ‘We all left Kiṣkindha under strict instructions from the king. But the month has passed without our knowing. We have no option now but to fast until we die!
‘Sugrīva is our king and he is ruthless. He will definitely kill us if we return unsuccessful. He will never forgive us if we return without any news of Sītā. It is better to die here, fasting, than to die at his hands. It was not Sugrīva who made me the heir, it was Rāma! Sugrīva was our sworn enemy before this and now he is our master! I am sure he will not hesitate to inflict a terrible punishment upon me! Why should my friends and family suffer by watching me die? It is far better that I starve to death here by the shores of the sacred ocean!’
The monkeys agreed with what Angada had said. ‘Indeed, Sugrīva is cruel by nature and Rāma is madly in love! The month has passed without us getting even a glimpse of Sītā! If we return without success, Sugrīva will definitely kill us to make Rāma happy!’ they said.
Tāra heard the frightened monkeys chattering and he said, ‘Enough of this sadness! We can go and live in that cave and enjoy ourselves! It is a magical cave and it is difficult to enter. It is filled with trees and water and roots and fruits. We have nothing to fear in there, even from Indra, let alone from Rāma or Sugrīva!’ The monkeys heard Tāra’s speech that seemed to agree with Angada’s plan and they were reassured. ‘Do whatever it takes to ensure that we are not punished!’ they begged.
At this point, Hanumān realized that Angada had all but won the kingship of the monkeys. He saw Angada growing in power, strength and majesty, like the waxing moon at the beginning of the bright lunar fortnight. Angada, who was as wise as Bṛhaspati and as brave as his father, seemed willing to fall in with Tāra’s plan.
Hanumān was devoted to his master and skilled in the arts of politics. He began to create dissension among the monkeys. Once he got the monkeys away from Angada, he started to intimidate Angada with angry threats. ‘You are a greater warrior than your uncle and as capable of ruling the monkeys as your father, Angada! But you know that monkeys are fickle by nature. Without their wives and children here, they will soon stop obeying your commands. And let me also tell you, that none of us, not me, not Jāmbavān, Nīla or Suhotra, will join you! You cannot win us over from our allegiance to Sugrīva by offering us bribes or with threats.
‘The mighty can fight with the weak and establish themselves, but the weak should never take on the strong if they want to survive. You think this cave is an impregnable defence, but I tell you that Lakṣmaṇa can destroy it with his arrows as if it were nothing! If you decide to stay where you are, the monkeys will desert you in no time. Pining for their wives and children, living in fear and starvation, regretting the hard beds on which they must lie, they will soon turn their backs on you!
‘Without your family and friends and your well-wishers, you shall live in terror, frightened even of a trembling blade of grass! And Lakṣmaṇa’s arrows, swift, sure and deadly as they are, will haunt you all the time! But if you return with us humbly, Sugrīva will make you king in the course of time. Your uncle loves dharma. He is determined to do the right thing and win your affection. His heart is pure and he keeps his promises. He will never kill you! He wants to win your mother’s love. In fact, that’s what he lives for! Besides that, he has no son of his own. Come back with us, Angada!’
Angada listened to Hanumān’s speech which was filled with devotion to his master. ‘Steadiness, purity of mind, compassion, resolution and courage are all virtues that Sugrīva lacks!’ he replied. ‘How can he know and love dharma when he takes his elder brother’s chief queen as his own, even while his brother is alive? He should regard her as a mother! How can he know dharma when he blocked the entrance to the cave while his brother was engaged in combat? How can he be honourable when he made a pact with Rāma and after gaining his own ends, forgot about his part of the bargain?
‘He ordered the search for Sītā because he was terrified of Lakṣmaṇa, not because he was reluctant to violate dharma! How can it be said that he loves dharma? How can a noble and well-born kinsman trust this creature who is fickle and ungrateful, conveniently forgetting the favours that he receives? A son is installed as a successor, whether he is good or bad. How will Sugrīva tolerate the continued presence of his enemy’s son? Why should I go and live in Kiṣkindha, weak, vulnerable, powerless and without a friend, especially when I have failed in the task assigned to me?
‘Sugrīva is ruthless, deceitful and cruel. He will at least have me imprisoned as a lesser punishment in order to keep the kingdom! Death by fasting brings me greater glory than imprisonment! Let the monkeys give me permission to do this and they can return home! I swear before all of you that I shall not enter that city! I shall fast to death right here. This death shall be more glorious.
‘Pay my respects to Sugrīva, the king of the monkeys, and give him my best wishes for his welfare. Ask with sincerity about the health of my aunt Rūmā and console my mother Tārā. She has been a loving mother and she has suffered a lot. When she hears that I have died here, I am sure that she will kill herself!’, Angada honoured his elders and fell weeping onto the ground that was covered with darbha grass.
All the other monkeys also began to weep when they saw Angada so distressed. They condemned Sugrīva and sang Vālī’s praises as they gathered around Angada, determined to die with him. They felt sure that his decision was good for them, too. They purified themselves with ritual ablutions and lay down on the darbha grass that lined the northern shore of the ocean. The mountain echoed the wailing of the monkeys who were as large as mountains themselves, as if it were echoing the thundering of rain clouds.