The magnificent palace Hanumān beheld was adorned on all sides with splendid pavilions, so grand that it seemed to rival Mount Meru and Mandara, reaching up as if to touch the very sky. This marvelous structure, crafted by the divine architect Viśvakarman, gleamed with the brilliance of fire and the sun. Its golden stairways and exquisite altars added to its grandeur, inviting awe. Everywhere, latticed windows made of gold and crystal caught the light, while altars of sapphire and great blue gems shimmered in the hall. The palace radiated with wondrous coral and precious jewels of immense value, and incomparable pearls sparkled throughout, shining everywhere like the palm of a hand. The air was perfumed with red sandalwood and golden-hued incense, filling the halls with auspicious fragrances, and the palace shone with the radiance of the young sun. Adorned with various splendid pavilions of excellent form, Hanumān, the great monkey, ascended the celestial Puṣpaka chariot. Standing there, he sensed the divine aroma rising from drink, food, and offerings, permeating the palace. He inhaled this blended fragrance, which was as delightful as a gentle breeze and felt like the embrace of a dear friend. Guided by this enchanting scent, Hanumān made his way toward the place where Rāvaṇa resided. As he approached, he saw a great and auspicious hall belonging to Rāvaṇa, as splendid as a beloved woman. Its jewel-encrusted steps and golden lattices sparkled in the light. The floor, covered in crystal, resembled the spaces between teeth and was decorated with pearls, diamonds, coral, silver, and gold. The hall was embellished with many jewel pillars and richly adorned columns, all equal, straight, and very tall, beautifully decorated all around. The pillars rose high like wings, as if ascending to the heavens, and the hall was spread with a great carpet marked with the signs of the earth. Expansive like the earth itself, it was filled with houses and districts, resounding with intoxicated birds and perfumed with divine fragrances. Furnishings of costly coverings added to its splendor, and it was served by Rāvaṇa himself, the lord of the rākṣasas. The hall was pure and white as a swan, scented with smoky agarwood incense. Offerings of leaves and flowers were placed throughout, radiant yet mottled, delighting the mind and pleasing the senses with their colors. This divine hall dispelled sorrow and generated prosperity, satisfying the five senses with their five highest objects. Protected by Rāvaṇa, the hall nourished its inhabitants like a mother. Hanumān marveled, thinking, “This is heaven, the world of the gods, perhaps even Indra’s city, or the highest attainment.” As he pondered, he noticed golden lamps, shining like tricksters bested in a game by greater tricksters. The brilliance of the lamps, Rāvaṇa’s radiance, and the gleaming ornaments made Hanumān think the hall was ablaze. Then he saw, seated upon carpets, a thousand noble women adorned in garments and garlands of various colors, each decorated in diverse attire. At midnight, when half the night had passed, these women, overcome by drink and sleep, had ceased their games and lay in deep slumber. The sleeping group shone in the silence, as quiet as swans and bees in a great lotus pond. Hanumān observed their mouths, fragrant as lotuses, with closed teeth and shut eyes, belonging to those beautiful women. As the night ended, their faces appeared like blooming lotuses, and as the petals closed again, they returned to their nighttime repose. These lotus-like faces were surely sought again and again by intoxicated bees, just as bees desire blooming lotuses. Reasoning thus, Hanumān considered them equal in qualities to those born of the waters. The hall, adorned by these women, shone for him like the clear autumn sky beautified by stars. Surrounded by them, Rāvaṇa, the lord of the rākṣasas, shone like the radiant lord of the stars encircled by stars. Hanumān thought, “These here, gathered together, are like the stars that fall from the sky, surrounded by the remnants of merit.” Just as the light, color, and radiance of great, auspicious stars are clearly seen, so too did the luster and beauty of those women shine there. Their hair and garlands lay loosened, precious ornaments scattered, their minds overcome by sleep at the time of drinking and sport. Some had forehead marks smeared, anklets displaced, and necklaces slipped to their sides. Others were adorned with pearl necklaces, garments fallen loose, and sashes untied, like young girls carried away. Some wore no earrings, others had garlands broken and crushed, like blossoming creepers trampled by a lordly elephant in a great forest. Necklaces on some, shining like moonbeams, rose up and looked like sleeping swans between their breasts. For others, cat’s-eye gems appeared like kadamba birds, and golden threads resembled pairs of cakravāka birds. Adorned with swans and kāraṇḍava birds, and decorated by cakravāka birds, their hips and buttocks shone like riverbanks with sandbars. Some, with golden lotuses as large as nets of tinkling bells, lay asleep like rivers with beautiful banks, grasping feelings and fame. On the soft limbs and at the tips of the breasts of some, splendid rows of ornaments appeared like beautiful jewels. The ends of garments of some, stirred by the breath from their mouths, fluttered again and again above their faces, completing the serene, wondrous scene Hanumān witnessed in Rāvaṇa’s palace.