Overjoyed at the turn of events, Sugrīva, his ornaments jingling as he moved, fell to the ground before Rāghava, bowing his head and joining his palms in deep reverence. His heart brimming with delight, Sugrīva addressed Rāma, who stood there as a hero—knower of righteousness and master of all weapons. “O best of men,” Sugrīva exclaimed, “you possess the power to defeat even all the gods together with Indra in battle with your arrows—what need is there to speak of Vāli, my lord? You, O descendant of Kakutstha, split seven mighty sāl trees, the mountain, and the very earth with a single arrow—who could possibly stand before you in combat? Today my sorrow has vanished, and joy fills my heart, for I have found you, my friend, equal to Mahendra and Varuṇa. For your sake, O Rāma, slay that enemy of mine—Vāli, who comes as a brother. With joined palms, I beseech you.” Rāma replied, “Let us proceed swiftly to Kiṣkindhā. Go ahead and, upon arrival, summon Sugrīva and Vāli, who bears the scent of brotherhood.” Without delay, they all hurried toward Kiṣkindhā, the city ruled by Vāli. Concealing themselves among the trees, they stood hidden in the dense forest. Then, to challenge Vāli, Sugrīva let out a dreadful roar—a cry so forceful and swift that it seemed to split the very sky. Hearing his brother’s thunderous call, Vāli, mighty and enraged, leapt out, his anger blazing like the sun rising from the western horizon. A fierce battle erupted between the two brothers, as tumultuous as the dreadful clash of Mercury and Mars in the heavens. They struck each other with slaps and belts, their fists as hard as thunderbolts, both overcome by wrath. Rāma stood by, bow in hand, watching both warriors intently. Yet, to his eyes, Sugrīva and Vāli were indistinguishable—like the twin Ashvins among the gods. Unable to discern one from the other, Rāghava hesitated and did not release his deadly arrow. Meanwhile, Sugrīva was overcome by Vāli’s strength. Unable to see Rāghava for support, he fled toward Ṛṣyamūka, his body battered, drenched in blood, and pursued by Vāli’s fury. Entering the great forest, Sugrīva found refuge. Vāli, seeing Sugrīva enter, remembered the curse that forbade him from setting foot there. Mighty as he was, he declared, “You are freed,” and withdrew. Rāghava, together with his brother and Hanumān, followed Sugrīva into the forest. There, seeing Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa arrive, Sugrīva, ashamed and dejected, gazed at the earth and spoke, “Having called me, shown your prowess, and promised to slay my enemy, what have you now accomplished? Tell me the truth, O Rāghava—why did you not slay Vāli? Otherwise, I will not remain here.” Hearing Sugrīva’s sorrowful and distressed words, Rāma replied gently, “Sugrīva, 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 appear alike. In voice, radiance, glance, valor, and speech, O monkey, I could see no difference between you two. Therefore, being bewildered by your resemblance, I did not release the swift arrow that destroys enemies. If, by mistake, I had struck you down, my folly would have been exposed. To slay one who has been granted safety is a great and wondrous sin. Moreover, Lakṣmaṇa, Sītā, and I are all under your protection in this forest—you are our refuge. Therefore, fight again and do not be anxious, O monkey. In this very moment, you shall see Vāli in battle, struck down by a single arrow, lying motionless upon the earth.” Rāma then advised, “Establish a mark of recognition for yourself, O lord of monkeys, so that I may know you when you enter the duel. Pluck this blossoming Gajapuṣpī flower, adorned with auspicious signs, and place it, O Lakṣmaṇa, upon the neck of the great-souled Sugrīva.” Lakṣmaṇa plucked the Gajapuṣpī flower blooming on the mountain slope and placed it around Sugrīva’s neck. Adorned with that splendid vine, Sugrīva shone like a garlanded cloud among cranes at dusk. Radiant and attentive to Rāma’s words, Sugrīva departed with Rāma and returned to Kiṣkindhā. And now begins the thirteenth sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa. From Ṛṣyamūka, Rāma, the righteous elder brother of Lakṣmaṇa, went to Kiṣkindhā with Sugrīva, the city guarded by Vāli’s might. Rāma, lifting his great bow adorned with gold, took arrows shining like the sun, fit for battle. Sugrīva, broad-necked and mighty, and Lakṣmaṇa led the way for the great-souled Rāghava as they approached the city of Vāli, prepared for what was to come.