Pleased with his devotion in Avimukta, the Lord granted Sudakshina a boon. Sudakshina chose what he most desired: the means to destroy the killer of his father. The Lord instructed him, “Worship the southern fire, together with Brahmins and your officiating priest, and perform the ritual of sorcery. That fire, surrounded by spirits, when directed against one who is unrighteous, will fulfill your intent.” Thus instructed, Sudakshina undertook the sorcery rite against Krishna, observing the necessary vows. From the fire-pit there emerged a terrifying, embodied flame—a being with blazing copper-red hair and beard, and eyes that streamed fire. His fangs were fierce, his brow dreadful, his mouth harsh, and he licked his lips with his own tongue. Naked and shaking a blazing trident, he made a rattling sound that chilled the heart. His feet were as large as palm trees, and as he advanced, the earth itself shook beneath him. Surrounded by spirits, he burned in every direction as he headed for Dvaraka. Seeing this monstrous fire approach, the inhabitants of Dvaraka were seized by 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 cried out, “Save us, O Lord of the three worlds, from the fire that is consuming our city!” Hearing their distress and seeing their fear, Krishna, the refuge of all, smiled gently and assured them, “Do not be afraid; I am your protector.” The all-pervading Lord, who is witness within and without all, recognized the sorcerous act of Maheshvara. To thwart it, he ordered his Sudarshana discus, which stood ever at his side. The Sudarshana discus blazed forth like ten million suns, shining with the radiance of the fire at the end of time. Its own brilliance illuminated the sky, the four directions, and the earth. As Mukunda’s weapon, it subdued the fiery being. O King, the fiery being created by the ritual was struck down by the power of Krishna’s discus. Broken and defeated, it turned back, and, entering Varanasi, it consumed Sudakshina and his priests—the very sorcery they had performed now destroyed them. Then the Sudarshana discus entered Varanasi itself, burning its palaces, assembly halls, and markets—cities crowded with gates, towers, granaries, treasuries, elephants, horses, chariots, and stores of grain. Having reduced all of Varanasi to ashes, the Sudarshana discus of Vishnu once again stood at Krishna’s side, the doer 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 then 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, Dvivida brought ruin to the land. He set fire to cities, villages, settlements, and cowherds’ hamlets. Sometimes, uprooting mountains, he crushed entire regions with them—especially in Anarta, where Hari, the slayer of his friend, resided. At times, standing in the middle of the ocean, he would lift up its waters with his arms and submerge the lands along the shore, 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 seized men and women and cast them into mountain caves and valleys, then crushed 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, and 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 the monkey’s insolence, the young women, playful by nature and fond of laughter, who were companions of Balarama, burst into laughter. Dvivida mocked them by throwing clods of earth and other things from the front, and by displaying his backside to them, all while Rama watched. Enraged, Balarama—the foremost of warriors—hurled a rock at him, but the monkey, with cunning, dodged the rock and seized the wine jar. Taking hold of it, the monkey mocked Balarama, laughing and breaking the jar, scattering Balarama’s garments in the process. Intoxicated with pride, Dvivida overpowered Balarama and acted insolently. Seeing his disrespect and the havoc he caused, Balarama grew angry. Taking up his club and plough, he prepared to kill his foe. But Dvivida, of great might, raised a giant tree in his hand and rushed forward, striking Balarama on the head. Yet Sankarshana stood unmoved, like a mountain struck from above. The powerful Balarama caught the tree and struck Dvivida with his club, shattering the monkey’s skull so that blood streamed forth. Like a mountain stained with red ochre, Dvivida did not heed the blow. Again, he seized another tree, stripped it of branches, and attacked, but Balarama cut it to pieces a hundredfold. With yet another tree, Dvivida attacked in anger, and that too was cut to pieces a hundredfold. Thus, as the battle raged and each tree was destroyed again and again, Dvivida pulled up all the trees around and made the forest treeless. Then, enraged, he released a shower of rocks upon Balarama, but the Lord, wielding his club, effortlessly crushed them all. The lord of monkeys, making his arms like palm trunks, formed his fists and approached the son of Rohini, striking him on the chest with both. But the chief of the Yadus, abandoning his club and plough, seized Dvivida with both arms in anger and pressed upon his collarbone. The monkey fell, vomiting blood.