The Sudarshana discus, the divine weapon of Mukunda, blazed forth with a brilliance surpassing ten million suns. Its radiance was like the fire of cosmic dissolution, illuminating the heavens, the directions, and the very earth itself. With its own splendor, it subdued the fiery being that had been conjured through ritual. O King, that fiery being, created by the sacrificial rites, was struck down by the irresistible force of the discus. Defeated and broken, its face turned away in shame, it entered the city of Varanasi. There, in a terrible reversal, it consumed Sudakshina and his priests—the very abhicara, or ritual sorcery, they had performed now rebounded upon them, destroying its creators. Then, the Sudarshana discus of Vishnu entered Varanasi itself—a city filled with palaces, assembly halls, bustling markets, grand gates and towers, storerooms and granaries, treasuries, elephants, horses, chariots, and vast stores of grain. The discus, in its fury, burned all of Varanasi to ashes. Having accomplished its task, the divine weapon returned to Krishna, the doer of flawless deeds, and stood once more by his side. Whoever, with focused mind, recites or hears this sacred account of the Lord’s exploits, so worthy of praise, is freed from all sins. At this, King Parikshit, eager to hear more, spoke: “Once again, I wish to hear of the wondrous deeds of Rama, the immeasurable and infinite Lord. What other acts did that master accomplish?” Shuka replied: There was once a mighty monkey named Dvivida. He was a friend of Naraka, a counselor of Sugriva, and the valiant brother of Mainda. Seeking vengeance for his slain friend, Dvivida brought devastation upon the land. He set fire to cities, villages, settlements, and the hamlets of cowherds. Sometimes, he would uproot mountains and hurl them, crushing entire regions—especially in Anarta, where Hari, the slayer of his friend, resided. At other times, standing in the midst of the ocean, Dvivida would lift up its waters with his arms and flood the coastal lands, his strength equal to ten thousand elephants. He destroyed the hermitages of great sages, breaking their sacred trees, and, wicked as he was, defiled their sacrificial fires with urine and excrement. Arrogant and cruel, he seized men and women, casting them into mountain caves and valleys, then crushed them with rocks as a craftsman might crush insects. Thus, as he ravaged the lands and violated noble women, Dvivida one day heard sweet singing coming from Mount Raivataka. Drawn by the sound, he approached and 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 nearby, shaking its branches and making loud noises to draw attention to himself. The playful young women, companions of Balarama, saw his antics and burst into laughter. Dvivida mocked them further, throwing clods of earth and other things, and even displaying his backside to them, all while Rama watched. Balarama, angered by the monkey’s insolence, hurled a rock at him. But Dvivida, cunning and swift, dodged the rock and seized the wine jar. Mocking Balarama, he provocatively broke the jar and scattered Balarama’s garments. Drunk with pride and insolence, he continued to disrespect the Lord. Seeing the monkey’s audacity and the disturbance he caused, Balarama’s anger flared. He took up his club and plough, determined to slay his foe. But Dvivida, mighty in strength, uprooted a massive tree and struck Balarama on the head with it. Yet, Balarama stood unmoved, like a mountain struck by a tempest. Then, Balarama seized the tree and struck Dvivida with his club, shattering the monkey’s skull so that blood streamed forth. Still, Dvivida, like a mountain stained with red ochre, did not heed the blow. He seized another tree, stripped it of its branches, and attacked again, but Balarama cut it to pieces a hundredfold. Again and again, Dvivida attacked with trees, and again and again, Balarama destroyed them, until the whole forest was left treeless. Enraged, Dvivida hurled a shower of rocks at Balarama, but the Lord crushed them all with his club. The monkey then formed his fists, strong as palm trunks, and struck Balarama on the chest with both arms. But the chief of the Yadus, abandoning his club and plough, seized Dvivida with both arms and crushed his collarbone in his wrath. The monkey fell, vomiting blood. As Dvivida crashed to the earth, the ground trembled in fear, along with the trees—like a mountain rocked by the wind, or a boat tossed upon the water. In the sky, the gods, siddhas, and great sages cried out, “Victory! Homage! Well done! Well done!” and showered flowers upon the Lord. Thus, having slain Dvivida, who had brought such distress to the world, Balarama, praised by the people, entered his own city. Thus ends the sixty-seventh chapter, entitled “The Slaying of Dvivida,” in the tenth book, second half, of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Now begins the tale of Sāmbha’s marriage and Balarāma’s dragging of Hastināpura. The Kauravas, enraged, declared: “This boy is ill-behaved! Disregarding us, he has seized our unwilling daughter by force. Let us bind this insolent one—what will the Vrishnis do? They, who enjoy the land given by us, accumulated through our favor. If the Vrishnis come here upon hearing that their son has been restrained, their pride will be broken, and they will become peaceful, like well-controlled breaths.” Thus, Karna, Shala, Bhuri, Yajnaketu, and Suyodhana, supported by the elders of the Kurus, attempted to bind Sāmbha. Seeing the Dhartarashtras pursuing him, Sāmbha, the great chariot-warrior, seized his splendid bow and stood alone like a lion, ready to face them.