As the city of Lanka blazed and burned, the assembled demons, witnessing the devastation, were seized by terror and confusion. They wondered among themselves, “Is this the wrath of Brahma, the great grandsire and four-faced creator of the world, come here in the form of a monkey to destroy us? Or is this the supreme power of Vishnu himself, of inconceivable, unmanifest, infinite, and singular nature, now arrived by his own maya in the form of a monkey for our destruction?” Thus, groups of distinguished demons, gathered together, spoke anxiously as they beheld their city suddenly engulfed in flames—along with its living beings, houses, and trees—all reduced to ashes before their eyes. Lanka, set ablaze in an instant, with its demons, horses, chariots, elephants, flocks of birds, beasts, and trees, cried out in agony, filling the air with a dreadful and tumultuous sound. The cries of “Alas, father! Alas, son, beloved friend! Alas, lord of life, my body, my good fortune is destroyed!” rose from the demons, their lamentations creating a most terrible and fearsome clamor. Enveloped in blazing fire, with its mighty warriors slain and its defenders scattered, Lanka appeared as if cursed, overcome by the wrathful power of Hanuman. The great-minded Hanuman looked upon Lanka, now marked by leaping flames and filled with terrified and despairing demons, and it seemed to him as if the earth itself had been struck down by the wrath of the self-born creator. Having shattered the forest thick with precious trees, slain the great demons in battle, and burned that splendid city, Hanuman, the son of the wind-god, stood firm and resolute. After destroying many demons, breaking the forest, and setting fire to the demon dwellings, Hanuman, great of soul, turned his mind toward Rama, remembering his true purpose. At that very moment, all the hosts of gods praised Hanuman, the foremost of monkeys, mighty as the wind, and of great intellect. The gods, foremost sages, Gandharvas, Vidyadharas, and serpents—all the great beings who witnessed these events—rejoiced with supreme and incomparable joy. Hanuman, having shattered the forest, blazing with energy, slain the demons in battle, and burned the dreadful city of Lanka, shone forth with great radiance. Standing atop the ornate summit of a foremost mansion, the lion among monkeys, his blazing tail forming a garland of flames, shone like the sun adorned with rays. Having compressed all of Lanka, the great monkey then extinguished the fire on his tail in the ocean. The gods, Gandharvas, Siddhas, and great sages, upon seeing Lanka thus burned, were seized with utmost wonder. Beholding Hanuman, the best of monkeys, all beings present thought, “This is the fire of Time itself.” Now begins the fifty-fifth chapter in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Sundara Kāṇḍa. As Hanuman saw the burning, terrified city of Lanka, filled with panic among the hosts of frightened rākṣasas, he began to reflect deeply. A great fear arose within him, and self-reproach took hold: “What have I done by burning Lanka?” he thought. “Blessed indeed are those great souls who, with wisdom, restrain the anger that arises—just as the wise quench a blazing fire with water. “Who, when enraged, would not commit evil? In anger, one might even slay elders; in anger, a man may insult the virtuous with harsh words. When provoked, a person never discerns what should or should not be said; for the angry, there is nothing forbidden—no act or word is beyond them. He who, through patience, casts off rising anger as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin—he alone is truly a man. “Shame on me, so foolish, shameless, and foremost in wrongdoing! Without thinking of Sītā, I have committed an act that brings ruin to my lord. If this whole city has been burned, surely the noble Jānakī too has perished; by my own ignorance, I have destroyed the very task entrusted to me by her husband. “The mission for which I came has been ruined; for, while burning Lanka, I did not protect Sītā. Though this task seemed slight, I have, overpowered by anger, destroyed its very root. Clearly, Jānakī is lost—no unburned part of Lanka is visible; the entire city has been reduced to ashes. If, through my error in judgment, this mission has failed, then today, right here, I too desire to give up my life. “Shall I cast myself into fire, or into the mouth of the submarine fire? Shall I offer my body to the beings dwelling in the ocean? How could I, still living, face the lord of the monkeys, or those two tiger-like men, having destroyed all that was to be accomplished? Indeed, through the fault of anger, I have now displayed this well-known instability of monkeys to the three worlds. “Shame on the passionate, unsteady, and uncontrolled nature—because of desire, even under a master, I did not protect Sītā. If Sītā is lost, then both Rama and Lakshmana will perish; and with their destruction, Sugrīva and his kin will also be destroyed. Hearing these very words, how will Bharata, devoted to his brother and righteous in soul, together with Shatrughna, be able to go on living? When the virtuous Ikshvaku lineage has surely come to ruin, all the people will be afflicted with grief and sorrow. “Therefore, I am one bereft of fortune, deprived of righteousness and wealth, my mind overcome by anger and fault, clearly a destroyer of the world.” As Hanuman was thus tormented by remorse, certain omens appeared to him—those which he had observed before, he now reflected upon again. Then a thought arose in his mind: “Or perhaps, O lovely-limbed one, protected by her own splendor, the blessed lady will not perish; fire does not act upon fire. Indeed, fire cannot touch the wife of that righteous man of immeasurable brilliance, who is guarded by her own conduct.” Thus Hanuman, torn by doubt yet comforted by hope, pondered the fate of Sītā amidst the ruins of Lanka.