As I journeyed across the earth, there came a moment when the world itself seemed to shrink before my eyes. The vast land appeared as the smooth surface of a mirror, whirling like a firebrand, and became as small as the print left by a cow’s hoof. With determination, I turned towards the east, where I beheld wondrous sights: forests of many kinds of trees, mountains that delighted the heart, rivers that sang as they flowed, and lakes of every variety, each more beautiful than the last. There, I saw the radiant mountain where the sun rises, its slopes adorned with glittering minerals. Beyond it stretched the Milk Ocean, forever the dwelling place of celestial nymphs. Yet, even as I marveled at these wonders, Vali relentlessly pursued and harassed me, forcing me to turn back suddenly, O Lord. Undeterred, I set forth again, this time towards the south, into lands rooted in the Vindhya mountains, fragrant with sandalwood trees. Searching among the forests and mountains, I pressed deeper into the southern regions, but once more, Vali gave chase, driving me away. Thus, wandering through many lands and beholding that excellent mountain, I eventually reached the great western mountain, only to be forced northward by Vali’s pursuit. In the north, I gazed upon the mighty Himalayas, the golden peak of Meru, and the endless northern ocean—yet nowhere did I find refuge from Vali. It was then that Hanuman, ever wise and prudent, spoke to me: “I remember, O King, how Vali, lord of the monkeys, was once cursed by the sage Matanga. Should Vali ever enter Matanga’s hermitage, his head would be shattered into a hundred pieces.” “Here, then, our dwelling will be safe and free from fear,” Hanuman assured me. And so, O Prince, we made our way to the mountain Rishyamuka. Out of fear of Matanga’s curse, Vali dared not enter, and thus, O King, having seen all this with my own eyes, I came to dwell in this cave, after traversing the whole earth. Now, listen to the next part of the tale as recounted in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa. At Sugriva’s command, the foremost of the monkey leaders set out swiftly in all directions, determined to find Sita. They searched everywhere—lakes and riverbanks, the sky above, bustling cities, and regions so remote and difficult that only rivers could reach them. Every mountain, forest, and grove named by Sugriva was explored with care. Throughout the day, the monkeys searched ceaselessly for Sita, and each night they would gather upon the earth, resting under trees that bore fruit in every season. Wherever they went, they found such trees and made their beds there, resuming their search with the dawn. When the first day’s search was done, the leaders gathered with Sugriva at Prasravana mountain, though their hearts were weighed down by despair. The mighty ones who had searched the eastern direction returned with their counselors, having found no trace of Sita. The great monkey who had scoured the northern lands came back with his forces, troubled and afraid. Sushena, who had searched the western quarter with his band of monkeys, returned at the end of the month. Approaching Sugriva, who sat with Rama atop Prasravana, they offered respectful greetings and reported: “All the mountains, dense forests, and rivers flowing to the sea have been searched, as well as every inhabited region. Every cave you named, every thicket tangled with creepers, has been explored. In the most remote, uneven, and difficult places, we encountered and overcame creatures of immense size, searching those inaccessible regions again and again.” They spoke with hope: “Hanuman, born of a noble and mighty lineage, will surely find Maithili. The son of the wind, Hanuman, has set out for the very direction in which Sita was taken.” Now, listen to the next chapter of the sacred Rāmāyaṇa. Hanuman, accompanied by Tara and Angada, swiftly set out for the region Sugriva had designated. With all the foremost monkeys, they covered great distances, searching the caves and dense thickets of the Vindhya mountains. They explored mountain peaks, river fortresses, lakes, towering trees, groves, and forested hills, leaving no place unchecked. Yet, though they searched in every direction, they did not see Sita, the daughter of Janaka. As they pressed on, these indomitable heroes sustained themselves on roots and various fruits, resting here and there as their search continued. The region was vast, difficult to traverse, filled with caves and dense forests, waterless and deserted—a place that inspired fear. Even so, they searched those forests thoroughly, though they suffered greatly, and found themselves in another vast and difficult region, full of caves and tangled thickets. Leaving that place behind, the fearless monkey leaders entered yet another region, even harder to penetrate. Here, the trees bore fruit in vain, with neither flowers nor leaves; the rivers had run dry, and roots were scarce and hard to find. No buffaloes, deer, or elephants roamed there, nor tigers, birds, or any other wild creatures. There were no trees, medicinal herbs, creepers, or even grass—only lotus ponds on the ground, their blossoms and glossy leaves shining beautifully, fragrant yet untouched by bees. In that desolate land once lived a great sage named Kaṇḍu, a truth-speaker, rich in ascetic power. Thus, the search for Sita pressed on, through every hardship and every land, guided by hope and the strength of the monkey hosts.