In a moment of astonishing skill, Rāma loosed a swift arrow that pierced through seven sturdy sāl trees, cleaving them as if they were but reeds, and then, as if obeying his will, the arrow emerged and returned to rest in his very own quiver. Witnessing this marvelous feat, Sugrīva—the foremost of the monkeys—stood in awe, wonder swelling in his heart at the power displayed before him. Overjoyed and overwhelmed, Sugrīva, his ornaments swinging about him, fell to the ground with his head bowed, joining his palms in reverence before Rāghava. Delighted by Rāma’s incomparable deed, Sugrīva addressed him—Rāma, the knower of righteousness, the master of all weapons, and a hero among men. He declared, “O best of men, you could surely vanquish even all the gods and Indra himself in battle with your arrows—what need is there to speak of Vāli, O lord? You, O descendant of Kakutstha, who split seven great sāl trees, the mountain, and even the earth with a single arrow—who in battle could possibly stand before you?” Sugrīva’s sorrow dissolved, replaced by supreme joy at having found such a friend, one equal to Mahendra and Varuṇa. “Today, O friend, my grief has ended. I beseech you, O descendant of Kakutstha, for my sake, slay that enemy who appears as a brother—Vali. With joined palms, I implore you.” Rāma then spoke: “Let us proceed swiftly to Kiṣkindhā. You go ahead. Upon arrival, summon Sugrīva and Vāli, who bears the scent of brotherhood.” Thus resolved, they all hurried toward Kiṣkindhā, the city ruled by Vāli, concealing themselves among the thick trees of the dense forest. There, Sugrīva let out a dreadful roar, a cry so forceful and intense that it split the sky itself. Hearing this challenge, his brother Vāli, mighty and enraged, sprang forth—fiercely agitated, like the sun rising from the western horizon, ablaze with fury. Then began a tumultuous battle between Vāli and Sugrīva, fierce as the dreadful clash of Mercury and Mars in the heavens. The two brothers, consumed by wrath, struck each other with blows—slaps, belts, and fists as hard as thunderbolts. Rāma, bow in hand, watched both combatants intently. So alike were they in form and prowess that they seemed as if the twin Ashvins among the gods. Unable to distinguish between Sugrīva and Vāli, Rāghava hesitated and did not release his deadly arrow. Meanwhile, Sugrīva, overpowered by Vāli and unable to see Rāghava for support, fled toward Ṛṣyamūka. His body battered by blows, drenched in blood, exhausted and pursued by Vāli’s rage, Sugrīva entered the great forest. But as Sugrīva crossed into the woods, Vāli, recalling the curse that forbade him from entering, declared, “You are freed,” and withdrew, mighty as he was. Rāghava, together with his brother Lakṣmaṇa and Hanuman, followed into the forest where Sugrīva had retreated. There, Sugrīva, seeing Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa approach, felt ashamed and dejected. Gazing at the earth, he spoke: “You called me, showed your prowess, and promised to slay my enemy—what have you now accomplished? Tell me truly, O Rāghava, why did you not slay Vāli? If you do not answer, I will not remain here.” Sugrīva, his great soul weighed down with sorrow and distress, spoke thus, and Rāghava replied: “Listen, dear friend, and let your anger subside. I shall explain why I did not release my arrow. In ornament, attire, stature, and gait, you and Vāli are so alike. In voice, radiance, glance, valor, and speech, I could see no distinction between you two. Therefore, bewildered by your resemblance, I did not release the swift arrow that destroys enemies. Had I struck in error, I might have ended the life of my own friend, exposing my folly and childishness.” He continued, “To slay one who has sought safety is a great and terrible sin. You are our refuge in this forest—myself, Lakṣmaṇa, and Sītā of noble complexion. Therefore, do not be anxious. Fight again, and this very moment you shall see Vāli struck down in battle by a single arrow, lying motionless upon the earth.” Rāma then advised Sugrīva, “Establish a mark of recognition for yourself, O lord of monkeys, so that I may know you when you enter the duel.” He instructed Lakṣmaṇa, “Pluck this blossoming Gajapuṣpī flower, adorned with auspicious signs, and place it upon the neck of the great-souled Sugrīva.” Lakṣmaṇa did so, fetching the luminous Gajapuṣpī vine blooming on the mountain slope and placing it around Sugrīva’s neck. Adorned with the splendid vine, Sugrīva shone like a garlanded cloud among cranes at dusk. Radiant in form and attentive to Rāma’s words, Sugrīva departed again with Rāma, returning toward Kiṣkindhā. Thus begins the thirteenth sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa. From Ṛṣyamūka, the righteous elder brother of Lakṣmaṇa—Rāma—proceeded to Kiṣkindhā with Sugrīva, the city still guarded by the might of Vāli.