As ordered by their king, the seven sons of his chief minister having a lustre vying with that of fire, accompanied by a large army, wielding their respective bows, possessing a great strength, well-trained in archery and the very well known and highly respected among the wielder of weapons, wishing a victory reciprocally, having an immense prowess each, started highly delighted in great chariots yoked with superb horses. Those chariots were creating a noise like that of an autumnal cloud. They were overlaid with a protective armour of gold, surmounted by banners and decorated with smaller flags. The seven leaders were stretching their bows inlaid with refined gold and looking colourful like clouds accompanied by flashes of lightning.
Before starting they consoled and promised to revenge the killing of Kimkaras to their grief stricken mothers, relatives and friends. Those sons of the chief minister, wearing ornaments made of pure gold, rushed with a glee towards Hanuman, who was waiting for them standing on the arch gate-way motionless. Those rakshashas, looking like clouds, diffusing thunder-like sounds of their chariots and discharging a shower of arrows, moved in different directions resembling rainy clouds in the monsoon.
Thus covered by those showers of arrows, Hanuman became invisible like a mountain-king concealed by incessant showers. Roaming about in a cloudless sky, our dear fast-footed James Bond of Ramayanam made the arrows and the speedy chariots of those virile rakshashas useless.
For time-pass our hero Hanuman started playing with those rakshasas wielding a bow each in the sky. Our dear hero was shining like his dear papa, the Lord of Wind, playing with clouds brandishing a rain bow.
For time-pass our hero Hanuman started playing with those rakshasas wielding a bow each in the sky. Our dear hero was shining like his dear papa, the Lord of Wind, playing with clouds brandishing a rain bow.
Now and then he made a terrific roar which frightened that great army. After sometime he got bored and decided to finish the battle. Our dear Hanuman, the annihilator of enemies, struck some with his palms, some with his feet and some others with his fists. He tore down some others with his nails.
He crushed some with his chest and some others with his thighs. Some dropped dead on the ground just seeing the colossal Hanuman. Seeing their comrades dropping dead like a rainfall, all the remaining soldiers, afflicted with fear, fled in ten different directions. Their elephants trumpeted with a wrong accent. Horses fell down on the ground. Even the earth was filled with chariots with their seats, banners and canopies shattered. Streams of blood were seen on the battle ground. Lanka resounded with various kinds of horrible voices. That heroic and mighty Hanuman with a terrible prowess, after killing those arrogant rakshasas went and rested at the arched door way waiting for some more fun.
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