Sugriva, overwhelmed by sorrow, turned to Rama with a heavy heart. “Rama,” he said, “grief has overtaken me, and you are the refuge for those who suffer. As a friend, I come to you and pour out my pain.” He continued, “By the sacred joining of hands, with fire as our witness, you have become my true friend. You are dearer to me than life itself—by truth I swear it. Trusting in this friendship, I speak openly now, for the sorrow within me always burdens my mind.” Having spoken thus, Sugriva’s eyes brimmed with tears, and emotion choked his voice so he could barely speak. Yet, in Rama’s presence, he summoned his courage and restrained the flood of tears, as a river is held back by a dam. Wiping his eyes and letting out a deep sigh, Sugriva, radiant once more, continued to address Rama. “O Rama,” he said, “long ago, my brother Vāli cast me out from my own kingdom. He spoke to me with harsh words and drove me away, using his superior strength. He took my wife, who is dearer to me than my own life, and imprisoned all my friends. That wicked-hearted brother has tried many times to destroy me, and I have had to slay many monkeys he sent against me. “Because of this constant suspicion and fear, O Raghava, I do not approach others easily—even you, whom I see before me—for one who lives in fear is wary of everyone. Only these few companions remain with me, with Hanuman at their head; it is thanks to them that I still survive, even in such distress. These loyal monkeys guard me on all sides, accompany me wherever I go, and remain with me wherever I stay. “This, Rama, is the sum of my troubles; why should I burden you with every detail? My elder brother Vāli, famed for his strength, is both my brother and my enemy. Only after his destruction will my sorrow be wiped away; my happiness and even my very life depend on his downfall. This, Rama, is the end of my tale of grief—such is the suffering of one who seeks refuge in a friend, whether in joy or in sorrow.” Hearing Sugriva’s words, Rama replied, “Sugriva, I wish to know the true cause of this enmity. Once I know the reason, I shall act swiftly, weighing both strength and weakness. Indeed, my anger flares at the humiliation you have suffered; it swells within me like the torrents of the rainy season. Speak freely and without fear while I string my bow—for my arrow is already set, and your enemy is as good as destroyed.” Thus encouraged by Rama, the noble son of Kakutstha, Sugriva and his four monkey companions were filled with joy beyond compare. Beaming with delight, Sugriva began to recount to Rama the true cause of his enmity. He said, “Listen, Rama: Vāli is my elder brother, a destroyer of foes, always highly regarded by our father and, in former days, by me as well. When our father passed away, the ministers, seeing that Vāli was the eldest, made him lord of the monkeys and ruler of the kingdom, with everyone’s approval. While he ruled the great kingdom inherited from our father and grandfather, I always remained bowed before him, like a servant at all times. “Now, there was a powerful being named Māyāvi, the elder son of Dundubhi. In the past, he and Vāli had a fierce enmity over a woman. One night, while everyone was asleep, Māyāvi came to the entrance of Kiṣkindhā, roaring fiercely in anger and challenging Vāli to battle. “My brother, though asleep, heard his terrible roar. Vāli could not tolerate such a challenge and immediately sprang up, filled with fury. Though the women and I pleaded with him, begging him to stay, he shook us all off and rushed outside, determined to kill that foremost of asuras. Out of friendship, I too followed Vāli. “Māyāvi, seeing us pursue, fled in terror, and we chased him even faster under the light of the rising moon. That asura, moving swiftly, entered a great cavern in the earth, its entrance covered with grass, and we stood watch outside. “Seeing our enemy enter the cave, Vāli, burning with anger, turned to me with agitated senses and said, ‘Stay here, Sugriva, and guard the mouth of the cave attentively while I enter and slay the enemy in battle.’ Hearing this, I begged him not to go, but he cursed me and entered the cave on foot. “Once he went inside, I waited at the cave’s entrance. A full year passed as I remained there, guarding the entrance. When so much time had gone by and my brother had not returned, I became anxious out of brotherly affection, my mind filled with dreadful suspicion. “Then, after a long time, frothy blood came flowing out of the cave. I was greatly distressed. I heard the roars of asuras echoing from within, but I heard nothing of my brother’s voice, not even a cry in battle. From these signs, I reasoned that my brother had been killed. With a heavy heart, I closed the cave’s entrance with a stone as large as a mountain.