Dundubhi, the mighty asura, crossed the heaving, jewel-strewn ocean and approached the great sea itself, challenging it with the words, “Grant me battle!” In response, the vast and righteous ocean, stirred by destiny, rose up and addressed Dundubhi. “O Dundubhi,” the ocean said, “seek out Himavat, king of mountains, who stands as a great refuge for ascetics in the immense forest. Renowned as Himavat, he is the illustrious father-in-law of Śaṃkara. With his magnificent cascades, countless caves, and roaring waterfalls, Himavat is capable of granting you satisfaction beyond compare.” Sensing Himavat’s apprehension, Dundubhi, the foremost of asuras, sped toward the forested slopes of the mountain, swift as an arrow released from a bow. There, in his fury, Dundubhi hurled great white stones—huge as elephants—from the mountain, casting them in all directions and letting out a thunderous roar. At that moment, gentle and pleasing Himavat, resplendent as a white cloud, stood upon his own peak and addressed Dundubhi: “O Dundubhi, devoted to righteousness, do not trouble me. I am versed in the duties of ascetics and offer refuge to the austere, but I do not engage in acts of battle.” Hearing these wise words from the king of mountains, Dundubhi—his eyes blazing with anger—replied, “If you are unable to fight, or if you abstain out of fear, then tell me who will grant me battle. I seek a worthy opponent.” Though never before addressed in such a manner, Himavat, skilled in speech and steadfast in righteousness, answered Dundubhi in anger: “There is a mighty and wise vanara named Vali, son of Indra, who dwells in the incomparable city of Kishkindha. He is powerful, highly intelligent, and supremely skilled in combat—he can grant you single combat, as Indra did to Namuci. Go swiftly to him if you desire battle, for he is ever indomitable and valiant.” Enraged by Himavat’s words, Dundubhi set out at once for Kishkindha. Assuming the terrifying form of a buffalo, with sharp horns and a fearsome presence, he looked like a rain-laden thundercloud looming in the sky. Arriving at the gates of Kishkindha, Dundubhi bellowed so mightily that the earth shook, like the beating of a war drum. In his arrogance, he broke nearby trees, tore up the ground with his hooves, and gouged the gate with his horns, resembling a mad elephant in his fury. Within the inner chambers, Vali heard the tumult. Unable to bear the challenge, he emerged with his wives, radiant as the moon surrounded by stars. The lord of the monkeys and all forest-dwellers addressed Dundubhi in calm, measured words: “Why do you block the city gate and roar so, Dundubhi? I know who you are—protect your life, O mighty one.” Dundubhi, his eyes red with anger, replied, “O hero, it is not fitting to speak thus in the presence of women. Grant me battle today, and then I will know your strength. Or, if you wish, I shall curb my anger for tonight; let your celebration continue unimpeded. O monkey, enjoy your pleasures as you wish—give gifts, embrace your kin, bring joy to your friends. Fortify Kishkindha, cherish your city as your very self, play with your women, for I am here to humble your pride. Know that whoever slays one who is intoxicated, careless, broken, alone, or weak is condemned as a destroyer of embryos—such are you, deluded by arrogance.” Vali, letting go of his wives, including Tara, laughed softly in anger and replied, “Do not think I am drunk—if you are truly unafraid in battle. Let this intoxication prove itself in combat, for such is the drink of heroes.” With these words, Vali, enraged, seized the golden garland gifted by his father Mahendra and stood ready for battle. Grasping the massive Dundubhi by the horns, Vali, the elephant among monkeys, roared and hurled his foe. Striking him down with force, Vali let out a mighty roar as blood poured from Dundubhi’s ears and he fell. Driven by mutual fury and the desire for victory, a terrible battle ensued between Dundubhi and Vali. Vali, whose prowess rivaled Indra’s, fought with fists, knees, feet, rocks, and trees. As the monkey and the asura exchanged blows, Dundubhi weakened in the struggle, while Indra’s son grew ever stronger. At last, Vali lifted Dundubhi and dashed him to the ground. In that deadly fight, Dundubhi was crushed; blood flowed copiously from his wounds, and the mighty-armed asura fell lifeless to the earth. Vali, swift and powerful, raised the limp body in his arms and hurled it a full yojana with a single motion. As Dundubhi’s body was flung, drops of blood from his mouth, carried by the wind, fell towards the hermitage of the great sage Matanga. Seeing the blood drops fall within his sacred precincts, the sage, his mind inflamed with anger, wondered, “Who has done this?