The skies blushed with dawn as Rama, his heart burning with purpose, stood beside the ocean’s mighty waves. Before him stretched the endless sea — deep, vast, and fierce — guarding Lanka like a jealous serpent guarding its treasure.
The vanara army gathered behind Rama, thousands strong, their eyes fixed upon the horizon where Sita waited. Yet the ocean roared, mocking their hope, daring them to cross.
Rama, noble and patient, prayed to the ocean god. “O mighty sea, make way for us. Let us pass and fulfill the task of dharma.” For three days and nights, Rama waited, his voice humble, his heart steady.
But the ocean, vast and proud, gave no answer.
At last, Rama’s eyes blazed with righteous fury. He rose, his bow strung tight, his arrow gleaming with the power of fire. “If you will not yield, O sea, I shall dry your waters and turn your depths into dust!”
The skies trembled, the earth quaked, and the waves froze in fear. Rising from the depths, the Ocean God bowed low. “O Rama, forgive me. I am bound by my nature. I cannot part, but I offer you my blessing. Build your bridge, and I shall hold its stones upon my waves.”
With the Ocean’s blessing, the great task began. Under the command of Nala, the vanara engineer, the mighty army gathered trees, boulders, and mountains.
And then, a miracle unfolded.
Each stone, carved with the name of Rama, floated upon the sea — defying nature itself. Rock by rock, the bridge stretched forth, strong and steady, its path gleaming under the golden sun.
Hanuman, Angada, Jambavan, and the vanara legions worked day and night — their chants rising like music, their hearts filled with faith. The bridge grew, mighty and unbroken, a testament to love, courage, and the power of Rama’s name.
At last, the bridge — known as the great Ram Setu — stood complete, reaching from the shores of Bharata to the golden gates of Lanka.
Rama stood upon it, his eyes shining like the morning sun. “Forward!” he called, his voice echoing across the waters. “Today we march — for Sita, for dharma, and for the end of Ravana’s pride.”
The vanaras roared with joy. With Rama and Lakshmana leading the way, they crossed the ocean — step by step, heart by heart — until the golden city of Lanka rose before them, proud and gleaming, unaware that its final dawn had begun.
Thus, with the sea behind them and destiny ahead, Rama’s army stood ready — for the war that would shake the heavens, the earth, and the very soul of the world.