After meeting Sita and hearing her words of love and sorrow, Hanuman’s heart blazed with fury. “How dare Ravana, proud king of Lanka, steal the wife of noble Rama? This land of gold shall pay for her tears.”
Before he left, Hanuman sought to show Ravana that Rama’s power was near — and that his doom was certain.
With a mighty leap, Hanuman climbed the grand walls of Lanka. Roaring like a thundercloud, he uprooted trees, toppled towers, and crushed Ravana’s mighty gardens. The Rakshasas, startled from their sleep, rushed to stop him — but Hanuman, swift as the wind, defeated them all.
Akshayakumara, Ravana’s brave son, came forth with his warriors. Yet even he fell, unable to match Hanuman’s speed and strength. One by one, Ravana’s best were sent tumbling into the dust.
At last, Ravana ordered his fiercest warriors to capture the vanara alive. The cunning demon Indrajit, skilled in dark magic, hurled powerful weapons until Hanuman allowed himself to be bound — not from weakness, but from wisdom. He wished to meet Ravana face to face.
Bound in ropes, Hanuman stood tall and fearless in Ravana’s golden court. The ten-headed king glared down at him. “O monkey! Who are you to wreak havoc in Lanka? Speak, before I end your life.”
Hanuman laughed, his voice ringing like a temple bell. “I am Hanuman, servant of Rama, sent to find Sita. Your end is near, Ravana. Free Sita, or face a war that shall burn Lanka to ashes.”
Ravana roared in anger. “Light his tail on fire! Let him carry his own doom back to Rama.”
The Rakshasas bound cloth to Hanuman’s mighty tail and set it ablaze. But Hanuman, smiling, grew in size and leapt high into the air. With his burning tail, he set Lanka aflame — palace after palace, tower after tower — until the golden city burned like the sun itself.
The skies filled with smoke, the people of Lanka ran in fear, and the flames danced high, reflecting the fury of Rama’s coming war.
Once his work was done, Hanuman shrank back to his small form and leapt once more across the vast ocean, the fire of Lanka behind him, the hope of Sita before him.
He returned to Rama, his face glowing with triumph. Bowing low, he spoke, “O Rama, I have found Sita. She waits in sorrow but holds your name in her heart. Lanka burns with the knowledge that her rescue is near.”
Rama’s eyes shone with tears — of pride, of love, and of gratitude. “O Hanuman, you are more than a messenger. You are my very heart. Because of you, the path is clear. Now, the earth shall tremble, for we march toward Lanka.”
Thus, Hanuman’s great journey came to an end, and the fires of war began to rise — a war of love, of duty, and of the victory of good over evil.