Chapter 16 - Hanuman’s Reflections on seeing Sita

Having offered obeisance to Sita who was worthy of homage, and also to Rama of gentle conduct, that bull among monkeys became absorbed in thought once more.

Reflecting awhile, his eyes full of tears on account of Sita, that sagacious monkey, Hanuman, gave voice to his distress in the following words:—

“None can withstand the force of destiny, since Sita, the consort of the illustrious brother of Lakshmana ever obedient to his preceptors, has met with this misfortune. Conversant with the prowess of Rama and the sagacious Lakshmana, that divine lady is no more perturbed than is the Ganges at the approach of the rainy season. In character, age, conduct and family, they are equal and Raghava is worthy of Vaidehi, that one of dark eyes, who is his.”

Seeing Sita, radiant as newly minted gold and who resembled Lakshmi beloved of the worlds, Hanuman approaching Rama in thought, said:—

“On account of this large-eyed lady, the mighty Bali was slain, and Kabanda, equal to him in strength; for her, the mighty demon Viradha, despite his renowned prowess, also succumbed in the forest under the thrusts of the valiant Rama, as Shambara under Mahendra’s blows. It was for her that fourteen thousand demons of outstanding exploits were pierced by Rama’s arrows resembling tongues of fire in Janasthana. Khara too was brought low on the field of battle; Trishiras was overthrown and the mighty Dushana also by the righteous Raghava. And it was on her account that that supreme and inaccessible kingdom of the monkeys belonging to Bali was acquired by Sugriva, renowned in the Three Worlds; it is for this large-eyed damsel, that the effulgent Lord of the Waters has been crossed by me and this city explored. Methinks that if Rama had turned the whole earth, with its boundaries, upside down for her sake, it were fitting! Were the dominion of the Three Worlds on one side and Sita, born of Janaka, on the other, the former would not equal a fraction of the latter; such is the virtuous daughter of the magnanimous King of Mithila, who is wholly devoted to her lord. She, as a field was being dug, rose from a furrow which the blade of the plough had turned, covered with dust which gleamed like the pollen of a lotus; she, the eldest daughter-in-law of King Dasaratha, who was full of courage and nobility and was never known to retreat in battle; she, the beloved consort of the faithful and dutiful Rama, knower of his own Self, is now in the power of the titans.

“Renouncing every pleasure, actuated by love of her lord, disregarding the inevitable privations, she entered the beautiful forest to live on fruit and roots, ever engaged in the service of her spouse and considered herself to have attained the peak of felicity there, as if it were the palace itself. This lady, whose limbs resemble Kanaka gold and who was ever wont to smile when conversing, now suffers unimaginable woes and Raghava, like a thirsty man panting for a stream, sighs for the sight of that noble woman oppressed by Ravana. Reunited with her, Raghava will enjoy felicity once more, as a king who has been deprived of his throne rejoices on regaining it.

“Deprived of all comfort and pleasure, far from her kinsmen, she preserves her life in the hope of seeing Rama and being reunited with him. Oblivious of the titans and the trees covered with fruit and flowers, her spirit is wholly absorbed in the thought of Rama. For a woman the greatest decoration is her lord and Sita, though incomparably beautiful, no longer shines in Rama’s absence. It is only Rama’s heroism that makes it possible for him to continue living separated from his consort and prevents him from being overwhelmed with grief. This lady of dark eyes, resembling the moonlight, worthy of happiness, is now utterly wretched and my heart is troubled. Patient as the earth, this lady whose eyes resemble lotuses, who was formerly protected by Rama and Lakshmana, lying at the foot of a tree, is being guarded by demons of hideous aspect. Like a waterlily snapped by the frost, the daughter of Janaka, her beauty faded, is fainting under the rain of misfortunes and, like a doe separated from the herd, is fallen into this distress. The Ashoka trees with their boughs bending under the weight of their blossom seem to increase her grief, as also the moon of pure beams that is rising in this spring season.”

Reflecting thus, that valiant monkey, being convinced that it was Sita, stationed himself in the Shingshapa tree.