As the shadow of loss fell heavily upon the forest, Sugriva’s heart overflowed with grief for his fallen brother, Vali. He lamented deeply, his voice trembling with pain: “A son may be found—good and obedient—but where in this world could there be a son like Angada? And, O hero, where could one find a brother so close as mine?” With sorrow etched into his every word, Sugriva declared, “Today, the heroic Angada will not survive; his mother will endure only for his sake. Yet, bereft of her son and stricken with grief, I am certain she too will not long remain in this world.” Overwhelmed by despair, Sugriva resolved, “Therefore, I shall enter the blazing fire, yearning for the company of my brother and my son. Let these foremost monkeys continue the search for Sita, ever revolving around your command, O Rama.” Turning to Rama, he continued, “Your task will surely be accomplished, O prince, even after I am gone. But know me, who have committed this offense and am unworthy to live, as the destroyer of my lineage, O Rama.” As these words of anguish echoed, Rama, patient as the earth and protector of the world, looked again and again at Tara, Vali’s queen, who was plunged in grief and weeping inconsolably. Seeing her sorrow, Rama’s heart was touched with anxiety. The ministers and chief counselors, witnessing Tara—her eyes beautiful yet clouded with tears—clinging to her husband’s lifeless form, gently raised her, though her spirit was utterly shattered. As they led her away from Vali’s side, Tara, struggling in her sorrow, saw Rama before her. He stood resplendent, holding his bow and arrows, radiant like the blazing sun. His eyes were beautiful like those of a deer, and his body bore all the marks of a great king. Though she had never seen him before, Tara recognized Rama, the scion of Kakutstha, as a foremost among men. Overwhelmed by grief, Tara quickly approached Rama—mighty and difficult to face, like Indra himself. Coming before him, pure in spirit though shaken by sorrow, the wise Tara addressed Rama, who had achieved his aim through prowess in battle: “You are immeasurable, difficult to oppose, self-controlled, supremely righteous, your fame undiminished, discerning and patient as the earth. Your eyes are bloodshot, as if wounded in battle. Armed with bow and arrows, mighty and well-built, though you have assumed human form, you possess a divine body.” With trembling voice, she pleaded, “With the very arrow by which my beloved was slain, strike me as well. Slain, I will go to his side, for Vali would not find joy without me, O hero. Even in heaven, Vali will experience grief and pallor without me, just as you, separated from Sita, would find no joy on the beautiful slopes of the king of mountains. You know well, O prince, that a man deprived of his beloved suffers; knowing this, slay me, so Vali may not endure the pain of my absence. And if you, O great soul, think that killing a woman is a sin, know that I am his own; strike me, for the slaying of a woman would not apply to you, son of the king of men.” Tara continued, her wisdom shining through her sorrow: “According to the scriptures and the Vedas, a man’s wives are not distinct from himself; among the wise, no gift is greater than that of a wife. And you, O hero, will give me, his beloved, to him, considering righteousness; by this act, you will not incur unrighteousness from my death. Yet, you should not kill me, who am afflicted, helpless, and being led away in this state. O king, I will not be able to live long without that wise bull among the monkeys, who roamed the groves of Matanga and wore the finest golden garlands.” Hearing her anguished plea, Rama, mighty and noble, sought to comfort Tara with gentle words: “O hero’s wife, do not let your mind waver, for the entire world is governed by the Creator. All happiness and sorrow that befalls the world is ordained by Him; even the three worlds do not transgress the order established by the Creator, for all are under His control. You will attain supreme happiness, and your son will obtain the heir-apparency; such is the order established by the Creator. The wives of heroes do not lament.” Thus comforted by Rama’s words, Tara, her face resounding with sobs, adorned and beautiful, became silent. Now, listen further to the sacred tale, as told in the glorious Ramayana of Valmiki, in the Kishkindha Kanda. Sharing in their grief, Rama consoled Sugriva, Tara, and Angada, together with Lakshmana, and spoke words of wisdom: “One does not achieve what is best for the departed through grief and lamentation; you must now attend to the duties at hand. The ways of the world must be observed; you have already shed your tears. No action can be undertaken beyond its proper time.” Rama spoke of destiny: “Destiny is the cause in this world; destiny is the means of action. For all beings here, destiny is the cause in all undertakings. No one is the agent of another’s actions, nor is anyone lord over destiny; the world proceeds according to its own nature, and time is its ultimate refuge. Time does not surpass itself, nor is it diminished; and having reached its own nature, no one transcends it. Time has no kinship, no cause, no might; neither friendship, nor family ties, nor self-will are its reason. One who sees rightly should recognize the transformations brought by time; righteousness, wealth, and desire are all established in the sequence of time.” He continued, “From here, Vali has gone to his own nature and attained the fruit of his deeds; through conciliation, gifts, and alliances, the lord of the monkeys is now purified. By adhering to his own duty, that great soul has conquered; not clinging to life, he has attained heaven. This is the highest destiny which the monkey chief has reached; therefore, enough of grief—let what is timely now be attended to.” When Rama had finished, Lakshmana, destroyer of enemy heroes, spoke respectfully to Sugriva, whose mind was overcome with sorrow: “Sugriva, you should now perform the funeral rites for Vali, together with Tara and Angada, and proceed to his cremation. Order that much wood be brought—both dry and fragrant sandalwood—for the sake of Vali’s funeral rites. Console Angada, whose heart is afflicted and sorrowful; do not be childish in thought—this city is now under your authority. Let Angada bring garlands, various garments, clarified butter, oil, and perfumes, as is proper at this time.” Thus, amidst sorrow and duty, the royal brothers and the grieving family prepared to honor Vali, following the eternal order of the world and the commands of dharma.