Seeing Sugrīva overwhelmed by sorrow, Rāma spoke with compassion, assuring him, “By my own judgment, I see you are submerged in an ocean of grief; I will surely rescue you, and you will attain abundant happiness.” These words filled Sugrīva with joy and renewed courage. Greatly pleased, Sugrīva responded with gratitude, speaking excellent words in praise of Rāma. Now begins the eleventh sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa. Sugrīva, heartened by Rāma’s promise, honored him and extolled his virtues. He said, “Without doubt, with your blazing, sharp arrows that pierce the vital points, you could burn the worlds in anger, like the sun at the end of an age. Please listen carefully as I recount Vāli’s strength, valor, and steadfastness; then act as you see fit.” Sugrīva described Vāli’s extraordinary might: “From the western ocean to the east, and from the south to the north, Vāli, tireless and swift, traverses the lands before the sun has even risen. He climbs the highest peaks of even the greatest mountains, leaping upward with force and catching them, such is his power. Many sturdy and varied trees in the forests have been broken by Vāli’s strength as he displays his prowess.” Sugrīva then began the tale of a formidable foe: “There was a mighty buffalo named Dundubhi, shining like the peak of Kailāsa, who possessed the strength of a thousand elephants. Intoxicated by his own power and deluded by a boon, Dundubhi approached the ocean, lord of rivers. Crossing the wavy, jewel-filled waters, he challenged the great sea, demanding, ‘Grant me battle.’” The ocean, righteous and mighty, rose up and addressed the asura, compelled by fate. He spoke of Himavat, the king of mountains, a great refuge for ascetics in the vast forest, renowned as the father-in-law of Śaṃkara. Himavat, adorned with cascades, caves, and waterfalls, could grant Dundubhi incomparable satisfaction. Realizing the ocean was fearful, Dundubhi, like an arrow released from a bow, rushed to the Himavat forest. There, he hurled white, elephant-like stones from the mountain in many directions upon the ground and roared loudly. At that moment, the gentle and pleasing Himavat, resembling a white cloud, spoke from his own peak: “O Dundubhi, devoted to righteousness, you should not trouble me. I am skilled in the duties of ascetics and a refuge for the austere, not in the acts of battle.” Dundubhi, his eyes red with anger, replied, “If you are unable to fight, or refrain out of fear of me, then tell me who might grant me battle, for I seek an opponent.” Himavat, skilled in speech and righteous, though never before addressed thus, spoke in anger: “There is a mighty and wise one named Vali, son of Indra, a glorious vanara who dwells in the incomparable city of Kishkindha. He is powerful, highly intelligent, and skilled in battle; he can grant you single combat, like Indra to Namuci. Go swiftly to him if you desire battle, for he is ever indomitable and valiant in combat.” Hearing Himavat’s words, Dundubhi, filled with rage, went at once to Vali’s city of Kishkindha. Assuming the form of a buffalo, with sharp horns and a terrifying appearance, he resembled a great raincloud filled with water in the sky. Arriving at the gate of Kishkindha, the mighty Dundubhi bellowed, shaking the earth like a war drum. He broke nearby trees, tore up the ground with his hooves, and gouged the gate with his horn in arrogance, resembling a mad elephant. Vali, inside the inner chambers, heard the commotion. Unable to bear it, he emerged with his wives, shining like the moon surrounded by stars. As lord of the monkeys and all forest-dwellers, Vali addressed Dundubhi with measured words, clear in meaning: “Why do you block the city gate and roar like this, Dundubhi? I know who you are—protect your life, O mighty one.” Dundubhi, his eyes blazing with anger, replied, “O hero, it is not fitting for you to speak in the presence of women; grant me battle today, and then I will know your strength. Or else, I shall restrain my anger tonight; let the celebration proceed freely, O monkey, indulge in pleasures as you wish. Let gifts be given and distributed, and embrace the monkeys; as lord of all the forest-dwellers, bring joy to your friends. Make Kishkindha well-protected, make the city as dear to you as your own self; play together with the women, for I am the one to restrain your pride. Whoever kills one who is intoxicated, careless, broken, alone, or weak, is known in the world as a destroyer of embryos—such as you, deluded by arrogance.” Vali, laughing softly in anger, released his wives, beginning with Tara, and spoke to the lord of the asuras: “Do not think I am drunk—if you are unafraid in battle; let this intoxication prove itself in combat, for this is a hero’s drink.