With hands joined in reverence and eyes full of affection, Sugriva addressed Rama, urging him with gentle sincerity, “Rely on your own strength, noble friend, and do not give space to grief. Those who cling to sorrow find no happiness—their vigor and spirit diminish. You should not grieve. For one overwhelmed by sorrow, even life itself is uncertain. Therefore, O king, let courage alone be your refuge, and abandon this grief.” Sugriva’s words were not those of a teacher, but of a devoted friend. “I speak as a companion, not to instruct you, but to honor our friendship. Do not let sorrow take hold of you.” Consoled by these sweet and soothing words, Rama, the scion of the Raghu dynasty, wiped his tear-stained face with the edge of his garment. The warmth and truth of Sugriva’s counsel restored Rama to his natural composure, and, embracing Sugriva, he spoke with gratitude: “Sugriva, you have done what a loving and well-intentioned friend ought to do. Your words are fitting and proper. Now, comforted by you, I feel restored. A friend like you is rare indeed, especially in times as troubled as these.” Yet Rama’s resolve shone through his gratitude. “But now, you must make every effort to search for Maithili—my beloved Sita—and for the cruel, evil-hearted demon, Ravana. Whatever must be done by me, speak freely, for as seeds sown in fertile fields during the rains prosper, so will all your endeavors with my support. And whatever words I have spoken out of pride, O tiger among monkeys, know them to be true. I have never spoken a lie, nor will I ever; this I promise you, and I swear by truth itself.” Hearing these words, Sugriva and his ministers were filled with delight, especially as Rama pledged his truth. Thus, the man and the monkey, united in heart and purpose, shared with each other their joys and sorrows, each matching the other in warmth and candor. Sugriva, chief among monkeys, listened and, understanding Rama’s greatness and sincerity, felt in his heart that the task before them was as good as accomplished. Now begins the eighth chapter in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, in the Kishkindha section. Sugriva, greatly pleased and gladdened by Rama’s words, spoke to the heroic elder brother of Lakshmana: “Truly, I am especially favored by the gods—there is no doubt—for you, endowed with every virtue, have become my friend. O faultless one, with your help, even the kingdom of the gods could be attained; what need to speak of my own kingdom? Among my relatives and friends, I am honored, O descendant of Raghu, for I have gained as a friend—by the fire’s witness—one born in the Raghu lineage. I too am a fitting companion for you, and you will come to know this gradually. But I am not able to speak of my own qualities in your presence. “Among great souls such as you, who are self-controlled, affection is steadfast, and courage unwavering, O best among the self-possessed. Whether it is silver, gold, or beautiful ornaments, the virtuous recognize that such things are undivided among the good. For the sake of a friend, O faultless one, people will give up wealth, comfort, even their homeland, when they see such affection.” Standing before Lakshmana and the wise Lakshmi, Rama replied to Sugriva, who spoke kindly, “So be it.” Then Sugriva, seeing Rama and the mighty Lakshmana, cast his restless gaze around the forest. Not far away, the lord of monkeys saw a splendid śāla tree, richly adorned with blossoms and a few leaves, humming with bees. Breaking off a single leafy branch, Sugriva spread it out for Rama, and together with Raghava, sat down. Hanuman, seeing the two seated, gently seated Lakshmana as well on a branch he had broken from the śāla tree. There, on the excellent mountain, covered with śāla blossoms, Rama sat comfortably, serene as the calm ocean. Sugriva, delighted, spoke to Rama with gentle and auspicious words, his voice trembling with joy and affection. “I, deprived by my brother, wander in fear on this great mountain Rishyamūka—my wife taken, deeply afflicted. Thus I, terrified and sunk in fear, my mind disturbed in the forest, have been wronged by my brother Vali and have become his enemy, O Raghava. Vali, who terrifies all the worlds, is the cause of my fear; you ought to show favor to me, who am without support.” Thus addressed, the illustrious descendant of Kakutstha, knower of righteousness and devoted to virtue, replied to Sugriva with a smile. “A friend is one who repays kindness; one who does harm is marked as an enemy. Today itself, I will slay him who took your wife. Here are my mighty, sharp arrows, adorned with gold, born from the forest of Kartikeya, blazing with power. Fitted with vulture-feathered shafts, resembling Indra’s thunderbolt, well-jointed, with keen points, they are like angry serpents. See your brother, the enemy named Vali, who has committed evil, struck down by arrows and scattered like a mountain broken apart.” Hearing these words of Raghava, Sugriva, leader of the monkey army, was filled with incomparable joy and exclaimed, “Excellent! Excellent!