Upon the lordly slopes of Mount Ṛṣyamūka, Sugrīva gathered with his trusted counselors, all standing together with hands respectfully joined. Their hearts were heavy with anxiety, for Sugrīva, the chief of the monkeys, was gripped by fear and suspicion, ever wary of his brother Vāli’s malice. At this tense moment, Hanumān, renowned for his wisdom and eloquence, turned to Sugrīva, who trembled with dread at the thought of Vāli’s possible pursuit. “Let go of this great anxiety about Vāli,” Hanumān gently counseled. “This Malaya mountain is excellent and secure; there is no danger from Vāli here. I do not see that cruel-hearted Vāli anywhere about, O best of monkeys, nor is there any sign of peril for you.” He continued with warmth and clarity, “Your fear is born of the wrongs done by your elder brother, but here, that wicked Vāli cannot reach you. Your monkey nature is evident, O mighty leaper—your mind is restless, making it hard for you to find peace. But a king must act with discernment, guided by signs in all matters. Without wisdom, a ruler cannot govern his people.” Sugrīva listened to Hanumān’s auspicious words, and, reassured, spoke further to his wise counselor. “Look at those two men, Hanumān—the ones with long arms and wide eyes, bearing bow, arrows, and sword. Who would not be afraid, seeing such formidable figures, so like the sons of the gods? I suspect they may have been sent by Vāli himself. Even among kings with many allies, trust must be given with caution. Enemies often come in disguise, and those who are not trusted may strike even at our weakest points.” He warned Hanumān, “Vāli is clever and farsighted, as all kings should be. It is vital to recognize those who would destroy us, even if they appear as ordinary men. Go to them, Hanumān, and approach as if you were just another monkey. Carefully observe their gestures, their manner, and their speech. Try to discern their true intentions, see if their hearts are joyful, and win their trust by praise and reading their signs. Stand before me and ask what purpose these two bowmen have in coming to this forest. If their hearts are pure, you will know it by their words or their appearance, for the wickedness of people can be recognized.” Thus instructed by Sugrīva, Hanumān, the mighty son of the Wind, resolved to approach the strangers. With humility, he said, “So be it,” honoring Sugrīva’s wise command. Then, gathering his strength, Hanumān set out toward the place where Rāma, resplendent and accompanied by Lakṣmaṇa, stood. Now begins the third chapter in the glorious Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki, in the Kiṣkindhā section. Understanding Sugrīva’s instructions, Hanumān leapt from Mount Ṛṣyamūka, his heart set on meeting the two noble descendants of Raghu. Casting aside his monkey form, he assumed the guise of a humble mendicant, his approach filled with cunning and care. As Hanumān drew near, he addressed the two heroes, offering them fitting praise and honoring them according to custom. With gentle words, he spoke to these steadfast, noble men—ascetics of firm vows, who resembled royal sages and even the gods themselves. “Who are you two, of such radiant appearance, who have come to this place and startled the herds of deer and other forest creatures? I see you looking all around at the trees along the banks of the Pampā, which enhances the beauty of this pure river. Who are you, patient and golden-hued, wearing bark garments, sighing deeply, with splendid arms, disturbing the forest dwellers? “You both have the gaze of lions, immense strength and valor, and carry bows that rival Indra’s own. You are radiant, handsome, and noble, with arms like elephant trunks—truly, the foremost among men. Your very presence illuminates the lord of mountains, and you both are worthy of kingship, equal to immortals. How have you come to this land? “Your eyes are like lotus petals, your matted locks alike, and you seem as if you have descended from the world of the gods. It is as though the sun and the moon have come together upon the earth—such is your majesty. With lion-like shoulders, great energy, and arms like iron clubs, you resemble two powerful bulls in their prime. “You are worthy of all ornaments, yet I see you unadorned. Both of you seem fit to protect this earth, which itself is adorned by mighty mountains and oceans. Your bows are beautiful, smooth, and finely decorated, shining like Indra’s thunderbolt. Your quivers, filled with sharp arrows and adorned with refined gold, are pleasing to behold. Each is packed with blazing, life-ending arrows like serpents, and your swords gleam like released snakes. Yet, as I address you, you do not speak—why is this so? “Know that there is a righteous one named Sugrīva, foremost among monkeys, a hero cast out by his brother and wandering the world in sorrow. Sent by that great-souled Sugrīva, I have come to you. I am Hanumān, chief among monkeys and son of the Wind. Sugrīva, righteous and noble, desires your friendship. Please know me as his minister, Hanumān, sent to you in goodwill.