When the people of Kashi beheld the severed head of their king, a wave of grief swept through the city. The king’s wives, his sons, relatives, and all the citizens cried out in anguish, lamenting, “Alas, the king is slain! Our protector is gone!” Amidst this sorrow, the king’s son, Sudakshina, took upon himself the sacred duty of performing his father’s funeral rites. His heart burning with resolve, he vowed, “I will destroy my father’s killer and thus honor my father.” Determined, Sudakshina, accompanied by his priest, turned to the worship of Maheshvara, Lord Shiva, focusing his mind with utmost devotion. Pleased with Sudakshina’s austerity, Lord Shiva appeared in Avimukta and offered him a boon. Sudakshina asked for the means to slay his father’s killer. Maheshvara instructed him, “Worship the southern fire with Brahmins and your officiating priest, performing the ritual of sorcery. That fire, surrounded by spirits, when directed against one who is unrighteous, will accomplish your intent.” Following these instructions, Sudakshina undertook the ritual of sorcery against Krishna, strictly observing the necessary vows. From the sacrificial fire-pit arose a terrifying, embodied flame—a monstrous being with copper-red, blazing hair and beard, eyes streaming fire, fierce fangs, a dreadful brow, and a harsh mouth, licking his lips with his own tongue. Naked and brandishing a blazing trident, it made a terrible rattling sound. Its feet were as large as palm trees, and as it strode forward, the earth shook beneath it. Surrounded by spirits, it set out burning all directions as it advanced toward Dvaraka. The people of Dvaraka, seeing this dreadful sorcerous fire approaching, were seized with terror, like deer trapped in a forest fire. In their fear, they rushed to Bhagavan Krishna, who was playing dice in the assembly hall, and pleaded, “Save us, O Lord of the three worlds, from the fire that threatens to consume our city!” Seeing their distress and fear, Krishna, the refuge of all, smiled gently and reassured them, “Do not fear; I am your protector.” The all-pervading Lord, who witnesses all within and without, recognized the sorcery born of Maheshvara’s boon. To counteract it, he summoned his Sudarshana discus, which stood ever at his side. The Sudarshana discus blazed forth, shining with the radiance of ten million suns, illuminating the sky, the quarters, and the earth with its own brilliance. As the weapon of Mukunda, it subdued the fiery being. O King, that fiery creature, born of the ritual, was struck down by the power of the discus-wielder’s weapon. Broken and defeated, it turned back, and, entering Varanasi, it consumed Sudakshina and his priests—the very sorcery they had performed turned upon them. Then, the discus of Vishnu entered Varanasi itself, burning its palaces, assembly halls, bustling markets, gates, towers, granaries, treasuries, elephants, horses, chariots, and stores of grain. When all of Varanasi had been burned, the Sudarshana discus returned to Krishna’s side, the Lord of flawless deeds. Whoever, with a focused mind, recites or hears this account of the Lord’s praiseworthy exploits is freed from all sins. The king, eager to hear more, said, “Once more I wish to hear of the wondrous deeds of Rama, the immeasurable and infinite Lord—what else did that master accomplish?” Shuka replied, “There was a certain monkey named Dvivida, a friend of Naraka, a counselor of Sugriva, and the valiant brother of Mainda. Seeking to avenge his friend’s death, Dvivida brought devastation to the land—he set fire to cities, villages, settlements, and cowherds’ hamlets. Sometimes, uprooting mountains, he would hurl them and crush entire regions—especially in Anarta, where Hari, the slayer of his friend, resided. At other times, standing in the midst of the ocean, he would lift up its waters with his mighty arms and flood the coastal lands, for he possessed the strength of ten thousand elephants. He destroyed the hermitages of great sages by breaking their trees, and, wicked as he was, defiled their sacred fires with urine and excrement. Arrogant, he would seize men and women, cast them into mountain caves and valleys, and crush them with rocks as a craftsman crushes insects. Thus, as he ravaged the lands and violated noble women, he heard sweet singing and made his way to Mount Raivataka. There he saw Rama, the Lord of the Yadus, adorned with a garland of lotuses, beautiful in every limb, surrounded by groups of women. Rama was singing, his eyes unsteady from drinking Varuni, his form radiant like a mighty elephant in rut. The wicked monkey climbed a tree, shaking its branches and making loud noises to draw attention to himself. Seeing Dvivida’s insolence, the young women, playful and fond of laughter, who were companions of Balarama, burst into laughter. The monkey mocked them by throwing clods of earth and other things, displaying his backside while Rama watched. Enraged, Balarama—the foremost of those who strike—hurled a rock at him. But the monkey, with cunning, dodged the rock and seized the wine jar. Grasping it, Dvivida mocked Balarama, provoking him with laughter; wickedly, he broke the jar and scattered Balarama’s garments. Overpowered by pride, the monkey acted insolently, showing disrespect and causing turmoil in the region. Angry, Balarama took up his club and plough, intent on killing his foe. Dvivida, of great might, raised a giant tree with his hand and, rushing forward, struck Balarama on the head. But Sankarshana stood unmoved, like a mountain struck from above. The powerful Balarama caught the tree and struck Dvivida with his club; the blow shattered his skull, and blood streamed forth. Yet, like a mountain stained with red ochre, Dvivida did not heed the blow. Again, seizing another tree, he stripped it of its branches with force and struck fiercely, but Balarama cut it to pieces a hundredfold. Again and again, as Dvivida attacked with trees, Balarama destroyed them, until all the trees around had been uprooted and the forest was left treeless.