Read Aloud Of Monkey Do: A Hindu Myth

This read-aloud is taken from a collection entitled, The Crystal Pool: Myths and Legends from Around the World. It was written by Geraldine McCaughrean and illustrated by Bee Willey.

The story reveals some of the amazing feats Hanuman accomplishes in order to assist Rama in saving Sita from the terrible Ravana.

Please note: This track may include some explicit language.

Transcript

Hello,

And welcome to today's Read Aloud,

Monkey Dew,

The story of Hanuman,

The Hindu myth.

It is taken from a collection of stories called The Crystal Pool,

Myths and Legends of the World by Geraldine McCaffrey,

Illustrated by B.

Wiley.

In the beginning of the tale,

14,

000 giants,

Prince Rama,

Flew in a single day,

And the only one left alive crawled to the feet of Ravana,

The demon king,

With news of the defeat.

All my warriors dead?

Raged Ravana,

Tossing his ten heads till they cracked together and thrashing the air with his twenty arms.

Well,

If my fighting men can't kill him,

At least I can break his heart.

I shall rob him of that perfect wife of his.

So mounted in his magic chariot,

Scorching the forest with sparks from its wheels,

Ravana snatched Sita,

Lovely Princess Sita,

By her hair and carried her off.

The sap in the flowers froze at the sight of it.

The birds in the trees choked on their song,

Rivers stopped flowing,

And the moon flushed thickly green.

Sita,

Sita,

What is life without Sita?

Cried the whole realm of nature.

Sooner than see Sita in the clutches of the vile demon king,

The king of vultures hurled his very life under the chariot's wheels.

The horses shied and smashed loose,

The bladed wheels clashed together like cymbals,

And the chariot sagged,

Buckled,

And broke apart.

But Ravana simply took to the air.

Sita's hair was still twined around one of his twenty arms,

His ten ghastly mouths laughing aloud,

The treetops lashed in lament,

Parakeets shrieking,

Monkeys jabbering in the topmost branches,

Seeing a family of monkeys gazing at her with round,

Stricken eyes.

Sita pulled the golden bangles off her wrist and threw them calling,

Tell Rama,

Tell Prince Rama.

The monkeys caught the bangles in their clever paws and were gone,

Swinging away under the leaf canopy.

Beneath the winged chariot,

Forests gave way to shimmering sea.

Rama was picking lotus flowers when the monkey general found him,

Hanuman,

Chief of staff to the king of monkeys and most marvelous of all his breed.

Stir yourself,

My prince.

Ravana,

The revolting,

Has ravished away your wife.

You and I have work to do.

My troops and tricks are yours to command,

But we must hurry.

Where has he taken her?

Asked Rama,

Jumping to his feet.

No one knows,

But my monkey millions are already searching.

As the monkeys soon discovered Ravana had taken Sita to the island of Sri Lanka.

There,

On the highest mountain,

He had a palace,

A mirage of loveliness,

Built by the gods themselves,

But annexed by the ugly and the wicked.

Out of the jungles of the world,

The monkey millions rallied to Hanuman's battle cry,

An army of apes ready to lay down their lives for the lovely Sita.

But between them and the princess stretched the impassable straits of Pembam,

Swilling with monsters.

On the seashore,

The frustrated monkey cohorts barred their teeth at the unfriendly sea.

But Hanuman had magic.

He wore the very wind in his tail.

What is more,

He could change shape whenever he chose.

There,

On the overcrowded beach,

He began to grow until his legs were as large as siege engines,

Flexed like catapults,

Powerful enough to propel him over surf,

Over sea,

Over miles of sea,

A veritable mountain of monkeys.

A great gasp went up from the monkey warriors as Hanuman made that prodigious leap.

In a second,

He was only a speck in the sky,

And a hooting and a whooping shout followed him out over the water.

But a terrible silence followed.

Out of the ocean depths,

Bigger than a breaching whale,

Reared up the head of the naga hog,

Green-tressed with slimy seaweed and pocky with barnacles,

Her mouth gaped,

Dark,

Wet,

And jagged,

Powerless to stop himself,

Hanuman hurled inside.

The naga hog meant to chew on Hanuman and swallow him down,

But the monkey general used his magic to grow still larger,

Wedging his head into the roof of her mouth,

His feet into the hollow teeth,

And he forced open her jaw as wide as they would go.

Then,

With a flick of his magic tail,

Hanuman was tiny as a flea.

He shot out of her ear,

Leaving her teeth to clash shut on her tongue.

Arrgh!

Back on the beach,

Prince Rama exhorted the monkeys,

Build me a bridge,

A bridge,

My friends,

We must reach Sri Lanka.

They built it not from wood or cane,

But from clasped hands,

Linked tails,

And braced backs.

Balancing with acrobatic skill,

Monkey on monkey on monkey,

They bridged the pom-poms.

Meanwhile,

Hanuman landed softly,

Softly,

Magic monkey on Sri Lanka and entered Ravana's palace.

His green eyes blinked at the sheer opulence of the demon king's lair.

Everywhere the walls were studded with gemstones,

The doors inlaid with diamonds,

Banners of silk rippled at every flagstaff,

And Persian carpets draped every wall,

While baskets of saffron stained the air gold with blowing pollen,

And jawsticks gave off coils of colored smoke.

But no amount of incense could mask the rank,

Moldering stench of evil.

And everywhere,

In every alcove,

In dormitory,

At every century post,

In turn of the stairs,

Squatted hideous raksas,

Whose name means destroyers.

Give me your love,

Sublime Sita,

Ravana's bullfrog croak echoed along the cloistered walks.

Give me your love to feed on.

Hanuman patted the silk-fringed stairs,

Poking his nose at every door,

Until at last he found the turret where Sita was held prisoner.

As soon as Ravana had gone,

Hanuman darted inside.

Jump onto my back,

Lady,

And I will carry you out of this cesspool.

Oh,

I can't,

I couldn't,

Whispered Sita,

Her lovely cheeks hot with maidenly modesty.

No man must touch me but Rama,

My husband.

I'm not a man,

Hanuman pointed out,

I'm a monkey.

But Sita was adamant.

Even Ravana had held her only by her hair.

So there was nothing for Hanuman to do but wait for the monkey army to cross the Pumbaan.

Nothing to do?

Well,

While he waited,

He could at least kill raksas.

Thousands of these vile demons served the demon king.

Some had bulbous bodies and long trailing arms.

Some elephant trunks or horse's heads.

Some were giants with three eyes and five legs.

Some looked like gorillas,

But for their blood-red eyes and ginger beards,

They infested the palace like rats or cockroaches,

And they'd like nothing better than a fight.

Still,

Hanuman took them on single-handedly,

And by jumping and weaving,

Dodging and ducking,

Narrowly kept out of the claws.

Up and down stairs they chased him,

Along passageways,

Through cellars and over rooftops.

Exhausted,

Overheated,

Some dropped in their tracks,

Wheezing and fanning themselves.

By the time the prince arrived,

Hanuman taunted,

Not one of you will have breath enough to whistle.

But at that moment,

A lasso fell around the monkey general's shoulders,

Tightened around his throat,

And dragged him,

Sprawling and spitting under the boots of Ravana's hideous son.

What shall I do with him,

Father?

What,

Shall I eat him or tear him limb from limb?

Monkey meat is tough,

Said Ravana,

Sneering on all his ten faces.

Set him alight and let's see him burn.

Oily rags were tied to the monkey's tail.

Sita prayed,

Her hands over her face,

But it seemed nothing now could save Hanuman from a hideous death.

Smugly,

The demon king held a lighted spill to the monkey's tail.

There was a smell of burning fur.

Hanuman seemed to shrivel with the heat.

He was shriveling.

He shrank down just enough to slip free of the rope binding him and bounded clean out of the window.

From Syl to Peripet,

He sprang.

From Ani to Flagstaff,

His blazing tail held stiffly out behind.

Silk banners and brocade pavilions were kindled by the burning rag.

Squirming in through open shutters and with his tail for a spill,

He lit bed hangings and Persian rugs,

Tapestries and wicker baskets.

Soon the whole palace was ablaze and destroyers of every shape and smell were jumping from the windows or sliding down knotted sheets to escape the inferno.

That was when Rama arrived,

Crossing his bridge of monkeys that dismantled itself behind him into an army.

A hundred thousand billion monkeys swarmed over the burning ruins of Ravana's palace,

Pelting rakshasas with white hot gemstones.

Ravana was unrepentant.

He thumped his chest and bellowed for reinforcements and out of the sea came the Nagahas.

Out from the mountains came the terrible Kumbhakarna,

Who could swallow a thousand men at one gulp.

Soon Prince Rama was forced to retreat.

Bleeding from a dozen wounds,

Though his courage was undimmed,

His strength began to fail.

He fell to his knees and his monkey legions reformed to shield him from a fleet of poisoned arrows.

Fight on boys,

Cried Hanuman.

Once more he transformed himself into a bird this time and flew away.

Was he turning tail?

Had his burns weakened him?

Was he afraid?

Not Hanuman.

Within the hour he returned from the flowery slopes of the far-off Himalayas.

His paws bunchy with herbs,

Tenderly he tended to Rama's wounds and before Ravana could regroup his shattered army,

Led his monkey millions into the attack once more.

The gods themselves looked down on that desperate day.

Their hearts were stirred by the heroic deeds they saw and Indra sent down his chariot for Rama to ride in while Brahma leaned down out of heaven to hand the prince a single golden arrow.

It was that arrow that finally pierced the heart of Ravana.

As it did so,

As the fiendish demon crashed to earth like a gusher of oil,

The strangest smell pervaded the battlefield of Sri Lanka.

Perfumed flowers of every color began to rain down out of the clouds,

Covering the faces of the fallen,

Lying in drifts upon the ruins of the gutted palace.

Princess Sita stepped into the golden chariot beside her husband.

The monkey millions reformed their living bridge and Prince Rama drove home over the Straits of Bambam,

His general dancing on wiry shanks behind him and squealing shrilly for joy.

Thank you for joining me tonight for the reading of the Monkey Dew,

The story of Hanuman.

Namaste.

Reviews

The mythic Hindu tradition is so vibrant and inspiring! I love hearing these stories. They work on a deep level. Thank you! 🙏🏼 😊

It was great to hear such an old and important tale. Thank you.

Wow! What an amazing story ! Thank you for sharing ! ❤️🙏🌸

What a beautiful reading of an ancient story, about the batle between good and bad. I love the explanation of how the enchanting flowers of Shri Lanka came to live. Thank you, you are a wonderful story reader! 🌺🌈💫

Namaste Yogi Garuda! What a surprise to see and hear you. Jai Hanuman!🐒

This was a lovely read aloud and I look forward to more! Such an animated read full of emotion and expression - thank you for such a beautiful gift, Garuda. 💖🙏🧚🏻