Journeying onward, he beheld bustling cities teeming with elephants, horses, and chariots. The land everywhere was level and lush, caressed by gentle breezes that soothed the senses. As he traveled further, he came upon the marshes ruled by the king of the Sindhu—a place so beautiful it seemed like heaven itself. There, his eyes fell upon a magnificent banyan tree, dark as a raincloud, its vast canopy surrounded by assemblies of sages. This tree was extraordinary, its branches stretching a hundred yojanas in every direction. From its mighty limbs, both an elephant and a great-bodied turtle hung suspended. Then, for the sake of his meal, Garuḍa—the mighty Suparṇa, best among birds—alighted on one of the branches. His immense weight caused the branch, thick with leaves and sages, to break suddenly. Gathered upon that branch were the revered Vaikhānasas, Māṣas, Vālakhilyas, and Marīcipas, their ascetic forms appearing almost like goats. Moved by compassion for these great sages, Garuḍa, with the broken branch a hundred yojanas long, gently took them up. Carrying the branch swiftly, along with both the elephant and the tortoise, the righteous Garuḍa stood on one foot and consumed the flesh of his prey. In the process, he destroyed the territory of the Niṣādas with the branch, and, having freed the great sages, he experienced unparalleled joy. Filled with that happiness, Garuḍa’s strength doubled, and the wise one resolved in his heart to bring the nectar of immortality. Continuing on, the brother of the Lord of Wealth beheld another banyan tree, named Subhadra, marked by Suparṇa and frequented by hosts of great sages. Having crossed to the far shore of the ocean—the lord of rivers—he found a secluded, holy, and beautiful hermitage deep within the forest. There, he encountered Mārīca, the rākṣasa, clad in black antelope skin and with matted locks, disciplined in his diet. Rāvaṇa, having arrived in the proper manner, was warmly received by Mārīca, who honored him with all kinds of human enjoyments. After welcoming him with food and water, Mārīca addressed his guest with words of inquiry: “Is all well with you, O king, lord of the rākṣasas in Laṅkā? For what purpose have you come here so swiftly again?” Thus questioned by Mārīca, the radiant and skillful Rāvaṇa replied. (Now begins the thirty-sixth sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇyakāṇḍa.) “Mārīca, dear one, listen carefully to my words. I am afflicted, and in my distress, you are my highest refuge. You know Janasthāna, where my brother Khara, the mighty Dūṣaṇa, and my sister Śūrpaṇakhā reside. There, too, is Triśiras, the flesh-eating rākṣasa, and many other valiant night-wanderers, all skilled in their aim. By my command, these rākṣasas dwell there, harassing the sages who practice righteousness in the great forest. Fourteen thousand rākṣasas of terrible deeds, valiant and true to Khara’s will, reside in Janasthāna. Now, those mighty ones, gathered together and fully dependent, engaged in battle with Rāma. The rākṣasas, led by Khara and wielding various weapons, confronted Rāma, who in the heat of battle became enraged. Without uttering a single harsh word, but with his bow set in motion by a rain of arrows, Rāma slew all fourteen thousand fierce and powerful rākṣasas. Khara was struck down, Dūṣaṇa fell, and Triśiras too was killed. Thus, Rāma made the Daṇḍaka forest free from fear. Exiled by his angry father, he now dwells there with his wife, his life nearly spent. That Rāma, the destroyer of my army, is a disgrace among kṣatriyas—unrighteous, harsh, cruel, foolish, greedy, and lacking self-control. He has abandoned righteousness, his mind set on unrighteousness, delighting in harming others. Without enmity, he has taken up violence in the forest. My sister was disfigured—her ears and nose cut off. Therefore, I will seize his wife Sītā, who is equal to a daughter of the gods, from Janasthāna. I will take her by force—be my ally in this, for with you by my side, mighty one, I shall surely succeed. Even if all the gods and their brothers come, I have no fear; so be my ally, for you are truly capable, O rākṣasa. In strength, in battle, and in pride, there is none equal to you; you are a great hero, skilled in magic and strategy. For this purpose, I have come to you, O night-wanderer. Listen to what must be done as my ally, according to my words. Take the form of a golden deer, adorned with silver spots, and wander before Sītā at Rāma’s hermitage. Seeing you in that form, Sītā will certainly ask Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa to capture you. Then, when both are gone and the place is deserted, I will seize Sītā at my ease, just as Rāhu seizes the moon’s radiance. Afterwards, when Rāma is tormented by the abduction of his wife, I will strike him down at my leisure, my purpose accomplished and my heart satisfied.” Hearing Rāvaṇa’s account of Rāma, the great-souled Mārīca was seized by terror. His mouth went dry, and he licked his parched lips; his eyes, wide and unblinking like one dead, were fixed upon Rāvaṇa, tormented by the dreadful prospect before him.