Long ago, in the sacred forests once blessed by the great sage Agastya, there dwelled a fearsome yakṣī named Tāṭakā—a devourer of men, monstrous and hideous of face. It was by a terrible curse that she had been transformed into this dreadful form, and, seized by wrath, she brought devastation to the land, her fury laying waste to a region once pure and holy. Now, for the wellbeing of cows and Brāhmaṇas, Viśvāmitra the sage turned to Rāma, the noble scion of the Raghu line, and said, “O Rāghava, for the good of all, you must slay this wicked and terrible yakṣī, Tāṭakā, whose evil knows no bounds. No man in all the three worlds but you, O delight of the Raghus, can accomplish this, for she is empowered by a curse that shields her from all others. Therefore, O best of men, do not hesitate to strike down a woman in this case; for the welfare of the four orders, a prince must act as duty demands. “For the protection of the people, whether an act seems cruel or not, sinful or otherwise, it must be performed by the protector of the realm. This is the eternal duty of kings: to destroy the unrighteous, O descendant of Kakutstha, for there is no righteousness left in her. It is well known, O king, that in ancient times, even Indra slew Mantharā, daughter of Virocana, when she threatened to destroy the earth. And long ago, Viṣṇu himself slew the wife of Kāvya, the devoted spouse of Bhṛgu, when she wished for a world without Indra. By these and many other noble princes, unrighteous women have been slain for the good of the world. Therefore, casting aside all hesitation, fulfill my command and slay her, O king.” Thus the stage was set, and the tale continued in the glorious Bāla Kāṇḍa of the Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Hearing these resolute words from the sage, Rāma, the son of Daśaratha and the joy of the Raghu dynasty, bowed with joined palms and replied with firm resolve, “Out of obedience to my father’s command, and in respect for your authority, O Kauśika, this task must be carried out without hesitation. In Ayodhyā, I was instructed by great teachers under my father’s guidance; his words must not be disregarded. For the welfare of cows and Brāhmaṇas, for the good of the land, and to fulfill your profound word, I am now prepared to act.” Having thus spoken, Rāma, the subduer of enemies, drew his bow and fastened his grip at its center. He produced a sharp, thunderous twang, the sound echoing through all directions. At that mighty sound, the dwellers of Tāṭakā’s forest were seized with terror, and Tāṭakā herself, greatly enraged and bewildered, was drawn to the source of the noise. Fixing her attention on that sound, the demoness, filled with wrath, rushed furiously toward the place from which it had come. Rāma beheld her as she appeared: furious, deformed, monstrous of face, and immense in size. He spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, “Look, Lakṣmaṇa, at the terrifying and dreadful form of this yakṣinī! At the mere sight of her, the hearts of the timid would surely break. See this formidable one, difficult to subdue, endowed with the power of illusion. Today, I shall render her powerless, depriving her of her ears and nose. Though I am reluctant to kill her, protected as she is by her womanly nature, I will destroy her strength and her movement.” As Rāma spoke, Tāṭakā, overcome with rage, raised her arms and charged at him, roaring. At that moment, Viśvāmitra the sage rebuked her with a thunderous shout and uttered blessings of safety and victory for the two sons of Raghu. Tāṭakā then stirred up a terrible cloud of dust, bewildering Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa with a blinding storm. Resorting to her magic, she unleashed a great rain of stones upon them. Rāma, angered by her assault, countered her stone shower with a rain of arrows. As she advanced, he severed her hands with his sharp shafts. Even armless and exhausted, Tāṭakā stood near, roaring in fury. Then Saumitri, Lakṣmaṇa, in his own anger, cut off her ears and the tip of her nose. The yakṣinī, master of illusion, vanished and reappeared in many forms, confusing the princes with her magic as she moved about in a terrifying manner, releasing yet another shower of stones. Seeing this, the illustrious Viśvāmitra spoke, “Enough of your compassion, Rāma. She is wicked and evil-doing. This yakṣinī, who once grew powerful through her magic, is a destroyer of sacrifices. Let her be slain before dusk, for at twilight the demons become difficult to withstand.” Thus instructed, Rāma faced the yakṣī as she continued her assault. Demonstrating his skill in striking by sound alone, Rāma blocked her with a barrage of arrows. Though Tāṭakā was empowered by her magic, she was restrained by his unyielding onslaught. Still, she charged furiously at Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, rushing upon them like a blazing thunderbolt. In the end, Rāma’s arrows found their mark, and Tāṭakā, the terror of the forest, was finally slain. At this, the gods rejoiced. From the heavens, they honored Rāma, exclaiming, “Well done! Well done!” Indra, the thousand-eyed lord, spoke with great delight, and all the gods, together with the Maruts, said to Viśvāmitra, “O sage Kauśika, blessings to you! We are pleased by this deed. Show your affection to Rāghava and reveal to him the sons of Kṛśāśva, the son of Prajāpati, who are true in valor. O brāhmaṇa, who bears the power of austerity, impart this knowledge to Rāghava, for he is worthy and devoted to following you. A great task for the gods is yet to be accomplished by this prince.” Having spoken thus, all the gods, delighted with the destruction of Tāṭakā, departed joyfully into the sky, leaving the forest and its people safe once more.