Vanaras Meet a Vulture on the Sea Shore

Sure — here's a more immersive and insightful version, keeping the flow natural and poetic, and avoiding rigid structure while staying true to the original narrative:

The Vanaras were weary. Their journey had stretched far beyond what they’d imagined — through caves and forests, across mountains and mirages of hope. Then came the moment of grace: the tapaswini Swayam Prabha. She wasn’t just a sage — she was a turning point. With quiet assurance, she asked them to close their eyes. And as they obeyed, something surreal happened — in a blink, they were no longer wandering in the heart of the wilderness. They found themselves on the southern seashore, the vast ocean stretching endlessly before them.

She had kept her word. She had brought them as close as possible to Seetha Mata. Not the exact spot — that, she said, was hidden, shrouded by rakshasa maya, cloaked in magic no sage could pierce. But this, she said, was close enough. The rest was in their hands now.

They searched for her once more, perhaps hoping she might still appear — but as always, they gathered at sunset, in silence.

Only four or five days remained before Sugreeva’s deadline would end. The anxiety wasn’t loud, but it seeped into their bones.

Morning came, and with it, Angada’s breaking point. He turned to Jambavan and said the unthinkable — 'Give me permission to die.' He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t blaming anyone. But he was crushed under the weight of expectation. 'I will stop eating. I don’t want to die at Sugreeva’s hands. Let me do it my way. I was shown mercy, made Yuvaraja — but maybe I shouldn’t have been. I’ve become an obstacle in Sugreeva’s son becoming king. I couldn’t find Seetha Mata. I’ve failed. When I return, he won’t spare me. Better I go on my own terms.'

Jambavan, old and wise, didn’t try to cheer him up. He simply said, 'Even I don’t want to go back. Sugreeva was clear. He won’t tolerate failure. He’ll destroy everyone — and then himself. I will fast with you, Angada. The rest may return if they want, gather their families, seek safety — if such a thing exists.'

Hanumanji spoke up. 'I will also do what you both are doing.' But his heart knew otherwise. Deep down, he was steady. It wasn’t over. This was his Lord’s mission. How could it fail? His mind was calm — the Lord’s plan always reveals itself, just in time.

Jambavan turned to Hanumanji, gently reminding him — 'You’re immortal. Death can’t touch you. I too will last till the end of the kalpa. Starving won’t end us. But we must stay beside Angada. He must not feel abandoned. It looks like failure, but who knows what the Lord has set in motion?'

Someone among the Vanaras suggested retreat — to return to the cave of the tapaswini. 'It’s safe, it’s rich with fruits, Sugreeva won’t find us there.'

Hanumanji’s reply cut deep. 'You think you can hide? If we found that place, Sugreeva will too. There’s no corner in all three worlds where the Lord’s arrows cannot reach. We ache when separated from our families — and He is separated from the Janani of the Universe. Can we imagine what He must be feeling?'

Jambavan didn’t argue. He simply said, 'Those who want to go — go. Me and Hanuman, we’ll stay with the Yuvaraja.'

And then the spirit of the Vanaras roared back to life. 'We’re not going anywhere. We will fast with the Yuvaraja. We’ll give up our lives too.' These weren’t just a few. They were in the hundreds of thousands. Loyal. Ready.

And then something stirred.

A massive shadow emerged from a cave. A vulture. Not just any bird — a huge, ancient, weathered creature. He saw the monkeys preparing for death and chuckled darkly. 'What a day. So many monkeys ready to starve. No need to hunt again. I’ll eat as they weaken. I’ll eat before they die.'

He moved forward.

The Vanaras trembled. Not from fear of death — but from humiliation. 'We couldn’t complete the Lord’s task. We disappointed our kings. And now we will be torn apart by this vulture. Blessed was Jatayu. Though a vulture, he died for the Lord. Sri Rama Himself performed his funeral and gave him mukti. And now another vulture comes to devour us.'

But the moment the vulture heard the name Jatayu, everything changed.

'You know Jatayu? How do you know my brother? Don’t be afraid — tell me what happened to him.'

Angada stepped forward and told him all. Every moment, every word, from the abduction to Jatayu’s brave fight, to his final moments in Rama’s lap.

The great vulture listened with eyes burning.

'I am Sampati,' he said. 'Jatayu was my own brother. We once tried to fly to the sun. My wings were scorched. He turned back. I fell. A rishi nursed me, told me that Vanaras would come one day — looking for Seetha Mata. He said I would guide them, and then my wings would grow again.'

'Now lift me. Take me to the sea. I want to offer water — jalanjali — for my brother.'

Hanumanji, alone, lifted Sampati. On his back, the aged vulture performed the rite, offering water with his beak. Then Hanumanji brought him back.

Sampati spoke, clearer now. 'My son, Suparshwa, once told me of something strange. While flying for food, he saw a dark man flying with a woman. She was screaming. My son tried to stop him. The man trembled and claimed he was the king of Lanka. He begged to pass. Somehow, he escaped. When my son told me, I scolded him and threw him out. I haven’t seen him since.'

'But I can see Seetha Mata. Right now. Sitting under a tree, guarded by Rakshasis. In the golden Lanka — Swarnapuri Lanka — on the middle peak of Trikuta Parvata. An island. One hundred yojanas across the sea.'

'If any of you can jump that far — you must try.'

And as if the heavens responded, Sampati’s wings began to grow. Strong. Majestic. Restored. His strength returned, his mission fulfilled, he soared into the sky and vanished.

The Vanaras watched in stunned silence.

Something had changed. A path had opened.

Now they just needed someone who could cross the sea.

And destiny was waiting.

Ramaswamy Sastry and Vighnesh Ghanapaathi