Building the Bridge
Hanuman hated to disappoint Rama, but the news was not good: despite the assurance of the sea-god Varuna that he would not thwart the building of a bridge to Lanka, they had made little progress.
Rama had given them seven days in which to complete the bridge, and Nala, their engineer, had calculated how many miles they would need to complete each day, but something had happened in the night: all the work of the day before had simply vanished, as if the bridge had washed away in the darkness. The bridgework had been solid and strong, held together by the power of the syllables RA and MA carved into each stone. But now the bridge was gone.
Hanuman conferred with Nala and they decided to work that they would work through the night; this would allow them to get back on schedule and perhaps discover what had happened the night before.
The Attack on the Bridge
By the light of the moon and their torches, the monkeys worked as quickly during the night as they had during the day, hauling the rocks out onto the bridge and fitting them into place, chanting RA-MA RA-MA as they worked. Hanuman placed his most trusted lieutenants to stand guard, while he flew back and forth along the whole length of the bridge, scanning the sea for trouble.
After they had been hard at work for a few hours in the darkness, Hanuman detected movement in the water, pulsating ripples racing towards the bridge. Before he could shout a warning, the makaras attacked: some grabbed the monkeys and crushed them in their enormous jaws, while others lashed at the bridge itself, knocking the stones out of place and then pushing them down into the water with their snouts. Hanuman stared in horror as hundreds of the sea-crocodiles swarmed the bridge.
The makaras then disappeared into the depths of the sea, and Hanuman dove down after them in pursuit. His father was Vayu, after all, the god of the wind, so the breath of the wind filled Hanuman's lungs even underwater. Swishing his enormous tail behind him and brandishing his trident, he raced through the sea in pursuit of the makaras, swimming farther and farther down into the darkness.
He then saw a glowing light ahead of them: an underwater palace! When the crocodiles reached the palace, they began swimming in circles, ignoring Hanuman completely. He raced inside through an open gateway, surprised that there was no guard to stop him.
In the Court of the Mermaid Queen
He then swam from room to room, but found no one. And then he heard… the singing. He paused for a moment to ascertain its direction. Beautiful singing. He followed the song's sound until he found himself in an inner courtyard, and there he saw the mermaid. As soon as the mermaid noticed Hanuman, she stopped singing and stared at him with a look of shock on her face. "It's . . . you!" she stuttered.
"I am Hanuman," he replied, confused by her words. He then added angrily, "Your crocodile beasts have attacked my army and destroyed my bridge."
The mermaid swam down to a seaweed-covered couch in the center of the courtyard and gestured for Hanuman to join her. "Please," she said, "come sit with me, and I will explain."
Once Hanuman had seated himself, she continued, "We were acting on King Ravana's orders." Hanuman bristled at the mention of Ravana's name.
"Aha," she continued, "well, yes, it was actually Queen Mandodari who conveyed his request. She has always been kind to me, so when she told me that there was an army coming from the north who were going to invade Lanka, threatening to take her and all of Ravana's wives into captivity, I offered my help. She asked that I destroy the bridge that you are building. I never meant any harm. Certainly not to you. Not ever. Apparently I have made a great mistake, Hanuman, and I am humbly sorry for it."
Again, he was puzzled by the way she spoke to him as if she knew him; he was sure he had never met her before. "But who are you?" he asked. "And why do you speak to me this way, as if you know me?"
Suvannamaccha's Secret
"But I do know you," she said. "You don't remember, of course. It was a long time ago, when you were following Surya the sun-god as your guru. I was a celestial singer then, an apsara. I saw how you reverently ran backwards across the sky, always facing Surya's chariot, never tiring, honoring your guru all day long. I vowed that you, and only you, would be my husband someday. I must have spoken my thoughts out loud because Surya heard me, and he cursed me to become the creature you see now: a mermaid who lives under the water, no longer breathing the air of the sky. They call me Suvannamaccha, the Golden-Fish."
Hanuman had known nothing of this woman, and nothing of the curse that his guru had pronounced upon her. But he also sensed that the words she spoke were the truth.
"And I too am humbly sorry to have been the cause of your trouble, Suvannamaccha," Hanuman said. He then knelt before her and told her the story of Prince Rama and his wife Sita, how Ravana had kidnapped Sita against her will and taken her to Lanka, and how Rama had come with an army of monkeys to petition Ravana to return Sita to him. And that if Ravana refused, then there would be war.
Suvannamaccha realized that there was no time to lose. "You did well to come here," she said, "and now I will help you to build your bridge. Come! I'll order my makaras to retrieve your stones. I only hope we will not be too late, for Sita's sake."
And with that she raced back through the palace, Hanuman beside her, to where the makaras swam around the palace in circles, patiently awaiting their queen's command.
Author's Notes. This story is based on a famous episode from the Ramakien (the Thai version of the Ramayana) in which Ravana orders his daughter, the mermaid Suvannamaccha, to destroy the bridge that Rama is building. Instead, she falls in love with Hanuman — and this is only one of Hanuman's many love affairs in the Ramakien, in striking contrast to the traditional Indian Ramayana, where Hanuman is celibate.
I really didn't want Suvannamaccha to be Ravana's daughter, though, and I also decided that I wanted her to have a proper love affair with Hanuman, so I combined the traditional Suvannamaccha story from the Ramakien with a story about Hanuman that I read in Philip Lutgendorf's amazing book, Hanuman's Tale: The Messages of a Divine Monkey. Lutgendorf notes that the Suvannamaccha story is not found as such in India (although the name comes from Sanskrit, Suvarna Matsya, gold-fish), but there are other stories from India about Hanuman's fish-family. The one I chose comes from the 1997 TV show Jai Hanuman. In this version, Suvannamaccha is originally an apsara who falls in love with Hanuman, and Surya curses her to become a mermaid. I haven't seen the show, but Lutgendorf provides a detailed summary in his book.
And yes, there is more to come as a result of this connection between Suvannamaccha and Hanuman. You will find out about that in the next story: Maiyarap.
Bibliography
Hanuman's Tale: The Messages of a Divine Monkey, by Philip Lutgendorf, pp. 328-329.
The Ramakien: A prose translation of the Thai Ramayana by Ray Olsson (published in Bangkok in 1968). Online at Chulalongkorn University Library.
Suvannamaccha at Wikipedia.
Makara at Wikipedia.
Image Information
Silver Suvannamaccha (banner). Photo by David Clay.
Building the Bridge. Philadelphia Museum of Art.
Hanuman defends the bridge. Wat Phra Kaew, mural.
Sculpture by Nakorn, Thai potter.
Khon performance. Photo by Warakorn Tanadkij.
Khon performance. Photo by David Clay.
Hanuman and Suvannamaccha. Wat Phra Kaew mural.
This mural from Wat Phra Kaew in Bangkok shows the whole story: you can see Suvannamaccha receiving orders from Ravana (center), then the attack on the bridge (lower left), and then Hanuman's encounter with Suvannamaccha (center and top right).