At the break of a pure dawn, the steadfast rakshasa, driven by a gnawing hunger, departed from his city in search of sustenance. Meanwhile, the heroic Shatrughna, having crossed the sacred Yamuna river, arrived at the gates of Madhupura, his mighty bow in hand, ready for battle. As half the day passed, the cruel rakshasa appeared, bearing the weight of countless living beings he had captured as prey. His gaze fell upon Shatrughna, standing resolute at the city’s entrance, weapon poised. With a sneer, the rakshasa mocked him, “What will you do with that weapon? Thousands like you, armed and bold, have been devoured by me in my wrath. Is it now your turn? My hunger will be satisfied with you, wretched man who has walked willingly into my jaws. How did you dare approach, you wicked-minded one?” He laughed again and again at his own words, but Shatrughna, his valor shining through, was filled with anger, and tears welled in his eyes. Overwhelmed by righteous wrath, the great-souled prince radiated beams of energy from every limb. Enraged, Shatrughna declared, “I wish to fight you, evil one, in single combat. Know me: I am the son of Dasharatha, brother of wise Rama, Shatrughna, ever the destroyer of enemies. I have come here seeking your death. Grant me a duel, for I desire battle. You are the enemy of all beings, and you shall not escape alive from me.” The rakshasa, laughing in scorn, replied, “By fate you have come here, wicked-minded one. My mother’s sister’s son, Ravana, lord of the rakshasas, was slain by Rama for the sake of a woman. I have endured the destruction of Ravana’s lineage and have borne your kind with open contempt. All whom I have slain are as insignificant as grass—those past, those yet to come, and you, lowest of men. But since you desire battle, I shall grant it. Wait while I fetch whichever weapon you wish, so I may prepare.” Shatrughna quickly retorted, “Where will you escape alive from me? A true warrior does not let an enemy encountered by chance go free. He who hesitates and gives his foe an opening is destroyed by his own folly, like a coward. Therefore, behold the world of the living well; with sharp arrows of many kinds, I shall send you, enemy of the three worlds and of Raghava, to the abode of Yama.” Thus concluded the sixty-eighth sarga of the glorious Uttarakanda in the noble Ramayana, the first epic composed by the sage Valmiki. Hearing Shatrughna’s fearless words, the rakshasa was seized by a burning anger and roared, “Stand, stand!” Pressing his palms together, grinding his teeth, Lavana challenged the tiger of the Raghu line again and again. To this terrifying Lavana, Shatrughna, slayer of foes, replied, “I am not as those others whom you have conquered. Today, struck by my arrows, you will go to Yama’s abode. Today, O evil-minded one, may the sages, learned brahmins, and gods witness your fall at my hands, just as they saw Ravana’s. When you, O night-wanderer, are burned by my arrows and fall, peace will return to the city and land. Today, an arrow from my arm, with a face like a thunderbolt, will pierce your heart as a sunbeam enters a lotus.” Enraged by Shatrughna’s challenge, Lavana seized a great tree and hurled it at Shatrughna’s chest, but Shatrughna split it into a hundred pieces. Seeing his assault fail, the powerful rakshasa seized many more trees and hurled them in fury. Yet Shatrughna, radiant and unshaken, cut down each falling tree with three or four swift blows of his curved weapons. Then, with valor undiminished, Shatrughna showered a hail of arrows upon Lavana’s chest, but the rakshasa remained unmoved. Laughing, Lavana lifted another massive tree and struck Shatrughna on the head. The hero’s limbs slackened, and he fell unconscious to the ground. A great cry of distress rose from the sages, the hosts of gods, gandharvas, and apsaras at the sight. Yet, though Shatrughna lay apparently slain, the rakshasa did not return to his abode, nor did he seize his deadly spear—convinced that his foe was finished, he turned instead to gather his food. But after a moment, Shatrughna regained his senses. Once more he stood at the city gate, armed and honored by the sages for his courage. Then, recalling his mission, he took up the divine, unfailing, supreme arrow—blazing with energy and filling all ten directions. This arrow had the face and force of a thunderbolt, resembled the mighty Meru and Mandara mountains, was curved at every joint, and undefeated in battle. Its shaft was smeared with blood and sandalwood, its feathers were beautiful, and it was the destroyer of the lords of demons, mountains, and asuras. As Shatrughna prepared to release this blazing arrow, all beings beheld it and were seized with terror, for it shone like the fire of destruction at the end of an age.