Sugreeva, the beloved child of the wilderness and nature’s dear companion, cast his gaze upon the dense embrace of the forest. Nostalgia gripped his heart as memories of his youthful frolics amid its sacred groves surged forth. Yet, alongside this tender reminiscence, a tempest of wrath arose within him—rage for the joys stolen from him by the cruelty of his own brother. Consumed by emotion, he lifted his eyes to the heavens and let forth a roar that cleaved the sky, a battle cry summoning Vali to the fateful duel.
Like the tender sun at dawn, yet bearing the prideful stride of a mighty lion, Sugreeva turned to Rama and declared, “O Prince of the exalted Ikshvaku lineage! We stand before Kishkindha, the dominion of my adversary. Behold its palace, guarded fiercely by my kindred, its warriors spread across every nook and corner, forming an unyielding net of vigilance. The golden gates gleam in the sunlight, adorned with banners and royal emblems, while the vast arsenal brims with weapons of war, prepared for any strife. Now, O Rama, is the hour to fulfil your solemn vow—to lay Vali low and restore justice.”
Rama, ever steadfast in his righteousness, replied, “Fear not, Sugreeva. The garland placed upon your neck by Lakshmana shall remain unscathed, a token to distinguish you from your treacherous brother. Even now, you stand radiant as a celestial warrior, your confidence unwavering, your gait majestic. With but a single arrow, I shall strike down your foe and free you from this torment. Should Vali yet draw breath in my presence, let it be known that my oath is flawed and my pledge unworthy. No proof beyond this shall be needed.”
Sugreeva, emboldened by Rama’s words, thundered, “O Rama, wielder of celestial might! Your arrows have shown me their power—I am certain that Vali’s time has come. Never have I spoken falsehood in my life, nor shall I stray from truth despite hardship. As parched earth rejoices in the rain’s embrace, so too shall your grace bring triumph to my cause. Dispel all fear, for destiny itself paves the path to victory.”
Rama, with wisdom profound, counselled, “Vali shall emerge, wearing his divine golden garland, his pride swelling like an unchecked tide. He knows not caution, for his victories have been many. Deploy whatever strategy suits the moment, for he is headstrong, reckless, and blinded by his own might. The challenge of an adversary, especially before his own consorts, shall sting his pride like a venomous barb.”
Then, with a cry that reverberated like the rolling thunder of storm clouds, Sugreeva let forth a roar so fierce that it shook the very foundations of Vali’s palace. The sound, like a tempest unleashed, sent tremors of fear through the land. Cowherds fled as if pursued by conquering foes, beasts scattered in wild terror, and flocks of birds took flight, their wings beating against the heavens. The forest itself seemed to shudder beneath the might of the golden-furred king’s battle cry.
Once more Sugreeva roared, his fury swelling like the surging tides of the boundless ocean. His call reached Vali’s ears, and the Vanara king, roused from the stupor of his indulgences, was seized by an uncontrollable rage. His brilliance dimmed like the sun eclipsed, his breath came in hissing gusts, and his countenance, wreathed in anger, burned like a blazing fire veiled by crimson lotus petals.
Stamping his foot upon the earth with a force that seemed to shake the very ground, Vali burst forth from his palace, a tempest incarnate. But even as he did, his queen, the wise and graceful Tara, stepped forward, her voice gentle yet firm, her words laced with deep foresight.
“O Vali, king of boundless might! Let not fury sweep you into rashness. As the garland of night fades with the arrival of dawn, so too may this battle wait for the morrow. You are unmatched in strength, your foes are few, and no urgency compels you to act this very moment. Listen to my counsel, for it is steeped in reason. Recently, Sugreeva fell before you and fled in disgrace. Yet now, he stands before your gates, his roar filled with defiance, challenging you anew. Can this not arouse suspicion? Surely, he would not dare this folly unless he had secured formidable aid. His confidence is unnatural, his audacity unwarranted—there is strength behind his call.”
With measured words, she continued, “O Vali, my beloved lord, know that Sugreeva is no fool. He is wise and cunning, never one to forge an alliance without first testing the mettle of his companions. And here is a truth that I have learned from our spies: The princes of the Ikshvaku dynasty, Rama and Lakshmana, have come to the forest. They are warriors of unchallenged prowess, victors of battles innumerable. They have allied themselves with Sugreeva and sworn to restore him to his rightful throne. Rama, the bearer of unfailing arrows, is like the raging inferno that consumes all in its path. His name alone inspires dread among the mightiest of foes.”
“O my lord, Rama is a fortress of virtue, the shelter of the righteous, the upholder of dharma. His wisdom spans the breadth of the cosmos, his knowledge shines like the sacred Himalayas laden with herbs and divine treasures. Not even the gods or demons dare to stand against his might. Do not, I beseech you, invite his wrath.”
With tender urgency, she pleaded, “O Vali, be not angered by my words, for they stem from devotion and concern. Let not enmity cloud your judgment. Anoint Sugreeva as the crown prince, dissolve this bitter feud, and ally with him and Rama. Your brother, by the ties of blood and fate, deserves your mercy and affection. Whatever his transgressions, he remains bound to you by nature’s decree. Relinquish this discord, let harmony reign once more, and grant him his due. If ever you have heeded my counsel, let it be now. If my words bear any weight in your heart, then honour my plea and embrace peace.”
But alas, though Tara’s wisdom shone like a guiding star, fate had already set its course. In the shadow of ill-omened times, Vali, blinded by pride and fury, spurned her counsel, giving no heed to the forewarnings of destiny.
Thus unfolds this chapter of the ancient tale—a saga woven with the golden threads of virtue, wisdom, fate, and valour. It is a testament to the immutable laws of the cosmos, where the forces of righteousness and retribution shape the grand design of the universe.
