Hanumān, the great monkey, entered a wondrous palace fitted with latticed windows crafted from gold and crystal. Altars of sapphire and magnificent blue gems adorned its halls, their brilliance unmatched. Everywhere, radiant coral and precious jewels of immense value sparkled, and incomparable pearls shone, lighting up the palace like the palm of a hand. The air was perfumed with red sandalwood and golden-hued incense, filling the space with auspicious fragrances. The palace gleamed with the brightness of a young sun. Splendid pavilions of excellent form stood throughout, and Hanumān ascended the celestial Puṣpaka chariot. Standing there, he perceived the divine aroma rising from drink, food, and offerings, the blended fragrance wafting through like a beautiful breeze—a scent so powerful, it felt like a beloved friend meeting another. Guided by this fragrance, Hanumān made his way to the place where Rāvaṇa resided. As he set out, he came upon a great and auspicious hall belonging to Rāvaṇa, as splendid as a cherished woman. The hall was adorned with jewel-encrusted steps and lattices of gold, its floor covered with crystal that resembled the spaces between teeth. Pearls, diamonds, coral, silver, and gold decorated every surface. Inside, many jewel pillars rose, richly adorned and equal in height, straight and tall, beautifully decorated on all sides. These pillars soared like wings, as if ascending to the heavens. A magnificent carpet, marked with the signs of the earth, was spread across the hall. The space was expansive, filled with houses and districts, resounding with the calls of intoxicated birds and perfumed with divine fragrances. Costly coverings furnished the hall, and it was served by the lord of the rākṣasas himself. Its purity and whiteness were like that of a swan, and smoky agarwood incense scented the air. Offerings of leaves and flowers, radiant yet mottled, delighted the mind and pleased the senses with their vibrant colors. This divine hall dispelled sorrow and generated prosperity, satisfying each of the five senses with their highest objects. Protected by Rāvaṇa, it nourished its inhabitants like a mother. Hanumān wondered, “Is this heaven, the world of the gods, perhaps Indra’s city, or the highest attainment?” He pondered as he looked around and saw golden lamps, their brilliance shining like tricksters bested by greater tricksters in a game. The radiance of the lamps, Rāvaṇa’s own splendor, and the gleaming ornaments made Hanumān think the hall was ablaze. Then, he saw a thousand noble women seated on carpets, adorned in garments and garlands of many colors, decorated in diverse attire. At midnight, when half the night had passed, these women, overcome by drink and sleep, lay silent, their games ended, strong in slumber. The group shone in their silence, as quiet as swans and bees resting in a great lotus pond. Hanumān observed their mouths, fragrant as lotuses, with closed teeth and shut eyes—faces of beautiful women. As the night ended, their faces bloomed like lotuses in the morning, then closed again as petals do at night. These lotus-like faces seemed to be sought again and again by intoxicated bees, just as bees desire blooming lotuses. By reasoning, Hanumān considered these women equal in qualities to those born of the waters. The hall, adorned by their presence, shone for him like the clear autumn sky beautified by stars. Surrounded by them, Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas, radiated like the lord of the stars encircled by his celestial companions. Hanumān thought, “These gathered here are like stars fallen from the sky, surrounded by the remnants of merit.” The light, color, and radiance of these auspicious women shone as brightly as the stars themselves. Their hair and garlands were loosened, precious ornaments scattered, minds overcome by sleep after drinking and sport. Some had their forehead marks smeared, anklets displaced, and necklaces slipped to their sides. Others were adorned with pearl necklaces, garments fallen loose, sashes untied—like young girls carried away. Some wore no earrings, others had garlands broken and crushed, resembling blossoming creepers trampled by a mighty elephant in a vast forest. Necklaces on some, shining like moonbeams, rose up and looked like sleeping swans nestled between their breasts. For others, cat’s-eye gems appeared like kadamba birds, and golden threads resembled pairs of cakravāka birds. With swans and kāraṇḍava birds, adorned 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, stirred by breaths from their mouths, fluttered above their faces. These radiant ends of garments, like banners, shone at the base of their faces in various hues of gold. The earrings of some women, splendid in radiance, gently trembled, moved softly by the breath from their mouths. Thus Hanumān beheld the palace and its inhabitants, their beauty and splendor filling him with awe as he continued his search.