लङ्कादुर्गवर्णनम्

Kākutstha heard Sugrīva's words, full of reason and real purpose, and accepted them. Then he turned to Hanumān. "By austerity, by building a bridge or by drying up the ocean, one way or another I am able to cross this sea. But tell me how many strongholds impregnable Laṅkā has; I want to know it all, monkey, as if I had seen it with my own eyes. The size of its army, the fortifications of its gates, the way Laṅkā is defended and where the rākṣasas live: tell me truly everything you saw there, at your ease and exactly as it is, for you are skilled in every way." At Rāma's words Hanumān, son of the Wind and the best of speakers, began to answer. Rāma's confidence is plain: the sea is no real obstacle to him, for austerity, a bridge and drying it up are all within his power. Yet like a prudent commander he first asks to know the enemy's fortress, and wants Hanumān's account to be as vivid as if he had seen it himself. Hanumān is the right one to ask, for he alone has been inside Laṅkā and seen all its secrets. In the previous sarga Sugrīva gave courage; in this one Hanumān gives knowledge, and the poet's order shows that a war needs both. Rāma asks about four things: the army's strength, the gates and forts, the city's defences and the rākṣasas' dwellings, which are the chief points in the old science of surveying a fortress. By saying "at your ease and exactly as it is" he gives Hanumān a free hand: tell what you saw, hide nothing and add nothing. His praise, "you are skilled in every way", shows his trust in his envoy's powers of observation, and Hanumān is called the best of speakers because in the Sundara Kāṇḍa he spoke so skilfully with both Sītā and Rāvaṇa. Rāma's first words deserve special notice. The three means he names, austerity, drying the sea and the bridge, unfold exactly in what follows: first Rāma fasts to win over the Ocean, then in anger takes up his bow to dry it, and at last Nala builds the bridge. The seed of the whole bridge-building episode lies in this one verse.

"Listen," said Hanumān, "and I will tell you in order the whole work of that fortress: how Laṅkā is guarded and protected by troops, how the rākṣasas are devoted to Rāvaṇa and awed by his power, how rich Laṅkā is and how dreadful the ocean, how the troops are disposed and the mounts arranged." And the best of monkeys described it truly. "Laṅkā is joyful and exultant, crowded with rutting elephants, vast, full of chariots and thronged with rākṣasas. It has four wide and mighty gates, their doors firmly fastened and barred with great beams. At them stand large and powerful engines for hurling arrows and stones, to drive back an attacking army, and hundreds of terrible, sharp śataghnīs of black iron, set up and kept ready by bold bands of rākṣasas. Its great golden rampart is hard to assail, its inner face inlaid with gems, coral, cat's-eye and pearls. All round it run moats, most fearsome yet most beautiful, with cool, fathomless water full of crocodiles and fish. At their gates are four very long bridges, fitted with many engines and lined with great rows of buildings. When an enemy army comes, the engines guard those bridges and fling the attackers into the moats on every side. One bridge, though, is immovable, strong and exceedingly firm, adorned with many golden pillars and platforms. And Rāvaṇa himself, Rāma, eager though he is for battle, keeps his composure: he is alert and never careless in watching over his troops." The bridges here are causeways over the moat, which the engines can tip up and throw into the water. The description shows a fine knowledge of the old art of fortification, laying out the layers of defence from outside inwards: gate, doors, bar, engines, śataghnī, rampart, moat and causeway. The last layer is Rāvaṇa's own vigilance, for he is not only a pleasure-seeker but a constant inspector of his army. Hanumān does not hide the enemy's strengths either: the rākṣasas are devoted to Rāvaṇa and Laṅkā is full of joy. That is the mark of a truthful envoy, who does not make the enemy smaller to please his master. The list of jewels shows Laṅkā's wealth, the crocodiles and fish the menace of its moats; beauty and terror together are Laṅkā's nature, as the Sundara Kāṇḍa also described it. The one bridge that no engine can move may be the royal road, kept for Rāvaṇa's own going out.

"Laṅkā, moreover, has no approach; it is a fortress worthy of the gods and a terrifying one, with fourfold defences of water, mountain, forest and artifice. It stands on the far side of an ocean whose other shore is distant, Rāghava; no ships can reach it, and it is inaccessible on every side. Built on a mountain top, that citadel is like a city of the gods; full of horses and elephants, Laṅkā is all but unconquerable. Moats, śataghnīs and engines of many kinds adorn the city of the evil-minded Rāvaṇa. Ten thousand rākṣasas hold the eastern gate, all formidable, spear in hand, fighting with the sword's point. A hundred thousand hold the southern gate with a fourfold army, and its warriors too are unsurpassed. A million hold the western gate, all bearing shield and sword and skilled in every weapon. Ten million hold the northern gate, chariot-fighters and horsemen, sons of noble families, highly honoured." The four defences are those of water, mountain, forest and man-made works such as ramparts and moats, and Laṅkā has all four: the sea, Mount Trikūṭa, its groves and its walls. The numbers rise gate by gate, so the northern gate is the most heavily guarded. Each gate's warriors are described with their own weapons: spears and swords in the east, a fourfold army in the south, shield-and-sword men skilled in every weapon in the west, and in the north chariot-fighters and horsemen of noble birth. Posting the sons of noble families in the north suggests that the northern gate was the chief one, since an enemy was most likely to come from that side. And the words "no ships can reach it" stir Rāma's anxiety again: not even boats can make the crossing, so a bridge is the only way.

"Hundreds of thousands of formidable yātudhānas hold the central camp, with more than a crore of rākṣasas besides. But I have broken those bridges, filled in the moats, burnt the city of Laṅkā and thrown down its ramparts, and a part of the army of those mighty rākṣasas has been destroyed. However we cross the home of Varuṇa, let the monkeys take it that Laṅkā is as good as destroyed. Aṅgada, Dvivida, Mainda, Jāmbavān, Panasa, Nala and Nīla the commander: what need have you of the rest of the army? Leaping across to Rāvaṇa's great city, these alone will break it open, mountains, forests, moats, gateways, ramparts, mansions and all, and bring her back, Rāghava. So order a full muster of the forces at once, and choose to set out at an auspicious hour." The central camp is a garrison at the heart of the city that could send help to any gate in an emergency. After the whole description comes this note of hope: Laṅkā is hard to reach, but its defences have already been broken. If one envoy could do so much, what could the whole army not do? By asking what need Rāma has of the rest of the army, Hanumān suggests that not even the full host is needed; the leading monkeys alone would be enough. His mention of an auspicious hour points to the start of the next sarga, where Rāma orders the march at the hour of victory. His modesty shows too: he does not boast of his own deed, speaking of it as destroying only a part of the army, and he praises the strength of Aṅgada and the others. Picturing the monkeys uprooting Laṅkā whole, with its moats, gateways, ramparts and mansions, is an exaggeration meant to fire their spirits. The sarga that began with Rāma's question ends with Hanumān's appeal, so that knowledge of the enemy's strength turns into the army's resolve. The speaker's order is carefully chosen, first fear and then hope: only after describing the enemy's strength in full does he tell of how he broke it.