When Rāma assured Sugrīva that Vāli, pierced by his arrows, would fall to the earth scattered like a shattered mountain, Sugrīva was deeply pleased. Hearing these words, which promised his own welfare, Sugrīva’s heart swelled with gratitude. He replied with utmost reverence, "By your grace, O lion among men, O great hero, may I regain both my beloved wife and my lost kingdom. Do to my enemy, O king of men, so that he may never again harm my elder brother." At that moment, as the bond of friendship between Sugrīva and Rāma was being sealed, a mysterious omen swept through the world: the eyes of Sītā, the lord of the monkeys, and the night-roaming demons—all beautiful as lotuses, gold, or fire—began to twitch together, foretelling a momentous turning of fate. Now, listen to the sixth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, within the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa. Once more, Sugrīva, filled with joy, spoke to Rāghava, the delight of the Raghu dynasty, saying, "This chief among counselors, Hanumān, will tell you everything, Rāma. Hanumān knows well the reason you have come to this lonely forest, dwelling here with your brother Lakṣmaṇa. Your wife, Maithilī, the daughter of Janaka, was carried off by a demon; separated from you, she wept, as did wise Lakṣmaṇa. Seizing an opportunity, that demon killed the noble vulture Jaṭāyu. Because of your wife’s abduction, you have been plunged into this sorrow." Sugrīva continued, "But soon you will be freed from the grief caused by your wife’s separation. I will bring back the lost one, just as the lost Veda is retrieved. Know this, Rāghava, my words are true: Sītā cannot be subdued—not even by Indra, nor all the gods or demons together. Your wife, mighty-armed one, is like food laced with poison—untouchable by others. Therefore, give up your sorrow, great-armed one; I will bring your beloved to you." "From inference, I know without doubt that she is Maithilī. I saw her being carried away by that demon of cruel deeds. She cried out loudly, 'Rāma! Rāma!' and 'Lakṣmaṇa!' as she struggled in Rāvaṇa’s lap, like the wife of the serpent king. When she saw me standing on the mountain slope, she threw down her upper garment and her auspicious ornaments. O Rāghava, those ornaments were taken and kept by us. I will bring them here for you to recognize." Moved by these words, Rāma said to Sugrīva, "Bring them quickly, friend. Why are you delaying?" Hearing this, Sugrīva swiftly entered the deep cave of the mountain, eager to please Rāghava. He returned with the upper garment and the ornaments, showing them to Rāma, saying, "See, these." When Rāma took the garment and the beautiful ornaments, his heart was overwhelmed. Tears choked his voice, and he resembled the moon veiled by mist. Overcome by the love he bore for Sītā, Rāma cried out, "Alas, my beloved!" Abandoning all composure, he fell to the ground. Again and again, he pressed the ornaments to his heart, sighing deeply, like an enraged serpent coiled in its hole. Tears flowed unceasingly down his face as he looked to Saumitri, his brother Lakṣmaṇa, and began to lament in distress. "Look, Lakṣmaṇa, this upper garment and these ornaments were cast on the ground by Vaidehī as she was carried away. Surely this ornament was dropped by Sītā as she was being taken, for its form appears so." Lakṣmaṇa responded, "I do not recognize the armlets, nor do I know the earrings. But I do recognize the anklets, from always bowing at her feet." Then Rāma turned to Sugrīva and asked, "Tell me, Sugrīva, in which region did you see my beloved, who was seized by a demon of terrible form? Where does that demon dwell, who has brought me such suffering? Because of him, I will destroy all the Rākṣasas. By carrying off Maithilī and enraging me, he has surely opened the door to his own death. My dearest one was taken from the forest by that night-roaming demon, who tormented her. Tell me today, O lord of monkeys, who that enemy is, whom I shall send to the realm of Yama." Now, let the seventh chapter be heard. Thus addressed by the grieving Rāma, Sugrīva, the monkey king, with joined palms and tears choking his voice, spoke: "I do not know the whereabouts of that wicked demon, nor his abilities, valor, or the lineage of that evil-born one. But I truly promise you, O destroyer of foes, cast off your sorrow. I will exert myself so that you may regain Maithilī. Having slain Rāvaṇa and his followers, and proving my own prowess, I will act so that you will soon be pleased." "Enough of this weakness; recall your inner courage. Such fickleness of mind is not fitting for one like you. I too have suffered great misfortune from separation with my wife, yet I do not grieve in this way, nor do I abandon my resolve. You ought to restrain the tears that have arisen, through your fortitude; you should not abandon the composure and endurance proper to the noble. In adversity, distress, fear, or even at the end of life, one who reflects with his own wisdom and is steadfast does not sink. But a foolish man who always follows weakness helplessly sinks into sorrow, like a boat weighed down in water." Thus, Sugrīva, with heartfelt sincerity and steadfastness, sought to comfort Rāma and strengthen his resolve, assuring him that together, they would overcome the great sorrow and restore Sītā.