Hidden in the branches of the Simsapa Hanuman feasted his eyes on the strikingly beautiful a panorama. Bustling with every known bird, bush, tree and creeper there was no fruit or flower that was not seen in the glorious grove, irrespective of seasons. Scents that forever pervaded the air were heavenly, and the beauty of it all seemed to meander on and on, as far as the eye could see. Though his mind revelled in the beauty that lay before him, Hanuman's roving gaze never for a moment faltered in its search for Sita, suddenly it stilled and having stilled, refused to move! It rested on a mammoth temple like structure supported by a thousand pillars and large as mount Kailas it soared towards the sky. With benches of gold, steps of coral and gems of every colour lending their dazzle to every pillar, post and dome its brilliance was hard to behold. Even as Hanuman stared in great wonder, there appeared in that glow a divine form and it was Sita's! It was she, the consort of Rama for whom he had crossed the ocean, for whom Rama pined and for whom Ravana had imperilled his very life. He recognised her for he had seen the wicked rakshasa abduct her. Unkempt and emaciated her dark hair like a black serpent hung down her back in a single braid. Her woebegone face was tearstained and her radiant beauty was veiled by sorrow just as a fire veiled by smoke. The harsh floor couched her slender body and startled eyes betrayed fear as Sita appeared like a timorous deer that had strayed into the midst of a pack of hungry wolves. With a strength born of her purity and chastity Sita sat with her head bent and heart heavy. In spite of the turmoil that raged in her, the soft ethereal glow of her beauty buried under layers of mental and physical agony refused to desert her. Any vestige of doubt that Hanuman may have had of Sita's identity vanished when he recognised her jewels described by Rama. They were not on her person but tied to the branches of a nearby tree. "This certainly is Sita," said the thrill that ran through him, it is her whom Rama considers to be his better half, his love and his very life. 'Only her sublime beauty can match that of Rama's and though separated they still survive because they live in each other's hearts. Sita lives because she is a woman and has not the liberty to cast away her body, but Rama who has the freedom to do so, does not succumb to that temptation. How great must be his anguish and how intolerable the agony of having to continue living without his beloved consort. Rama who has done many difficult things has now achieved the impossible by surviving without Sita'!
Summary
Hidden in the branches of the Simsapa Hanuman feasted his eyes on the strikingly beautiful a panorama. Bustling with every known bird, bush, tree and creeper there was no fruit or flower that was not seen in the glorious grove, irrespective of seasons. Scents that forever pervaded the air were heavenly, and the beauty of it all seemed to meander on and on, as far as the eye could see. Though his mind revelled in the beauty that lay before him, Hanuman's roving gaze never for a moment faltered in its search for Sita, suddenly it stilled and having stilled, refused to move! It rested on a mammoth temple like structure supported by a thousand pillars and large as mount Kailas it soared towards the sky. With benches of gold, steps of coral and gems of every colour lending their dazzle to every pillar, post and dome its brilliance was hard to behold. Even as Hanuman stared in great wonder, there appeared in that glow a divine form and it was Sita's! It was she, the consort of Rama for whom he had crossed the ocean, for whom Rama pined and for whom Ravana had imperilled his very life. He recognised her for he had seen the wicked rakshasa abduct her. Unkempt and emaciated her dark hair like a black serpent hung down her back in a single braid. Her woebegone face was tearstained and her radiant beauty was veiled by sorrow just as a fire veiled by smoke. The harsh floor couched her slender body and startled eyes betrayed fear as Sita appeared like a timorous deer that had strayed into the midst of a pack of hungry wolves. With a strength born of her purity and chastity Sita sat with her head bent and heart heavy. In spite of the turmoil that raged in her, the soft ethereal glow of her beauty buried under layers of mental and physical agony refused to desert her. Any vestige of doubt that Hanuman may have had of Sita's identity vanished when he recognised her jewels described by Rama. They were not on her person but tied to the branches of a nearby tree. "This certainly is Sita," said the thrill that ran through him, it is her whom Rama considers to be his better half, his love and his very life. 'Only her sublime beauty can match that of Rama's and though separated they still survive because they live in each other's hearts. Sita lives because she is a woman and has not the liberty to cast away her body, but Rama who has the freedom to do so, does not succumb to that temptation. How great must be his anguish and how intolerable the agony of having to continue living without his beloved consort. Rama who has done many difficult things has now achieved the impossible by surviving without Sita'!