Hanuman, the mighty and devoted son of the Wind, stood poised upon the mountain, his heart set on his sacred mission. With unwavering resolve, he declared, “If need be, I will uproot Lanka itself, along with Ravana, and bring it here!” Having spoken thus, the best among monkeys gathered his strength and leapt forward with astonishing speed, his mind steady and determined, imagining himself to be like Garuda, the king of birds. As Hanuman sprang up with immense force, the trees on the mountain, their branches drawn in, were pulled up all around him. Some clung to him, their boughs heavy with blossoms and honey-intoxicated birds. With these trees trailing behind, Hanuman sped through the clear sky, his leap so powerful that the trees, torn from the earth by the strength of his thighs, followed him briefly—like devoted kinsmen accompanying a loved one departing on a long journey. For a moment, they resembled an army following its king. Accompanied by these blossoming trees, Hanuman, massive as a mountain, became a wondrous sight. Soon, those trees with deep roots, as if in awe or fear, slipped from his wake and plunged into the salty waters below, like the mountains of Mahendra sinking into Varuna’s oceanic realm. Now, Hanuman soared on, his body adorned with a garland of various flowers and fresh buds, shining in the sky like a raincloud lit up by fireflies. As he raced onward, the trees released their flowers, which scattered and drifted down into the sea—like friends taking their leave after a visit. The great, vibrant mass of blossoms, stirred by the wind of Hanuman’s passage, fell gently upon the ocean, making the vast waters sparkle as if the night sky itself had been strewn with stars. Bathed in a shower of fragrant, multicolored flowers, Hanuman gleamed like a rising cloud adorned with flashes of lightning. The water, covered with these scattered blooms, shone like a sky filled with stars or lamps. His arms, stretched out before him, looked like two five-mouthed serpents emerging from a mountain peak. As Hanuman sped across the ocean, it seemed as though he were drinking in the vast waters with their rolling waves, thirsting for the sky beyond. His eyes, blazing and following the wind’s path, shone like lightning, fierce as fires atop a mountain. His large, tawny, round eyes glimmered, steadfast like the moon and the sun side by side. His face, with its reddish nose, glowed with a crimson hue, like the sun’s disk at twilight. His tail, raised high as he leapt, shone in the sky like Indra’s own banner. The circle formed by his tail and his shining white fangs gave Hanuman the appearance of the sun surrounded by its halo. His hips, bright red, made him look like a mountain split open and stained with red ochre. As the lion among monkeys leapt across the ocean, the wind rushing between his sides roared like thunderclouds. He streaked across the sky like a meteor falling from the northern heavens, trailing a brilliant path. Stretched out and luminous like a flying firebrand, Hanuman resembled a great elephant, grown vast, with a rope around his flanks. His immense body and the deep shadow he cast above made him seem like a wind-driven boat afloat on the ocean. Wherever Hanuman reached over the ocean, the waters below appeared to churn and froth, maddened by the sheer force of his limbs. With tremendous speed, he vaulted over the crests of the ocean’s waves, as high as mountains, each one seeming to rise up to meet him. The mighty winds stirred by Hanuman and the clouds together shook the ocean, which roared in response. Dragging the great nets of waves in the salty water, Hanuman, tiger among monkeys, leapt as if scattering the heavens and the earth themselves. With each bound, he crossed the vast waves—rising like Mount Meru and Mandara—as if counting them one by one. At that moment, the ocean, resounding with his power and filled with clouds, shone in the sky like autumn clouds spread wide. The waters churned so that sharks, crocodiles, fish, and turtles could be seen, their bodies exposed as if stripped of their watery coverings. As Hanuman advanced, the serpents dwelling in the ocean mistook him for Garuda himself flying above. His shadow, immense and beautiful, stretched ten yojanas wide and thirty yojanas long over the sea. It followed him, shining upon the salty waters like a line of dense, white clouds. Hanuman, radiant and massive, shone as he moved unsupported through the path of the wind, like a winged mountain soaring alone. The ocean below, along the path he took, seemed suddenly hollowed out, as if a trough had been carved into its depths. As Hanuman passed through flocks of birds in his descent, he swept away masses of clouds like the king of birds himself, or as the wind would scatter them. Great clouds—white, red, blue, and madder-colored—shone brilliantly as they were drawn along by his passage. Entering and emerging again and again from these billowing clouds, Hanuman appeared now hidden, now revealed—like the moon itself, veiled and unveiled by the night sky.