Chapter 16 - Rama inflicts a mortal Wound on Bali

Thus spoke Tara, whose face was as radiant as the moon, and Bali answered her in tones of reproach, saying:—

“When my brother, who is above all mine adversary, challenges me in anger, how shall I endure it, O Lady of Lovely Countenance? The brave who are not accustomed to bearing insults and who never turn back in battle, O Timid One, would rather suffer death than such ignominy. I may not disregard the weak-necked Sugriva who, in his determination to enter into combat, has offered me so insolent a challenge.

“Have no anxiety on my behalf regarding Raghava, for he is conversant with dharma and pious by nature. How could he do wrong? Return home with your companions! Why follow me further? You have demonstrated your tender devotion sufficiently! I am about to set out to fight Sugriva; control thine emotions. I shall punish his insolence, but I shall not take his life. I shall enter into combat with him, since he desires it, and, assailed by the blows dealt with my fists and the trunks of trees, he will flee. That coward will not be able to withstand my strength and prowess. O Tara, you have accompanied me far enough and shown thine affection for me sufficiently, now return, and I, having obtained satisfaction from my brother on the battlefield, will follow you; I swear it by my life and race.”

Then the virtuous Tara, embracing Bali and speaking tenderly to him, weeping, circumambulated him, keeping him on her right hand, and bidding him farewell according to the tradition and reciting the sacred texts so that he might return victorious, she re-entered the inner apartments, distracted with grief.

When Tara reached the inner sanctuary with the other women, Bali, distraught with anger, went out of the city, hissing like a great serpent. Full of ire, breathing heavily, he ran with all his strength, looking round on every side, eager to find his adversary.

At last he beheld that powerful monkey, the golden-hued Sugriva, clothed in excellent armour, full of confidence, resembling a brazier, and, seeing him inflated with pride, Bali wrapped his garments more tightly about him, a prey to extreme anger. Having thus girded up his apparel, his fists clenched, full of vigour, he advanced to meet Sugriva and engage him in combat. From his side, Sugriva, also doubling his fists in rage, went out to meet his brother who was wearing a crown of gold.

Then Bali, addressing Sugriva, whose eyes were red with anger, who was skilled in the art of fighting and was rushing towards him in fury, said:—

“With this clenched fist, its fingers tightly closed, I shall deal you a blow that will cause you to yield up your life.”

At these words, Sugriva, livid with anger, answered:—“It is mine that will drive the life’s breath out of you by caving in your skull.” Thereafter, violently assaulted by Bali, he hurled himself on him in fury, rivers of blood streaming from him, like a mountain from which torrents fall. Unperturbed, Sugriva, tearing up a Sala tree, struck his rival’s body as lightning fells a mountain peak. Struck by the Sala tree which unnerved him, Bali resembled a heavily-laden ship, sinking with all its cargo in the waves. Endowed with terrific strength and as agile as Suparna, both fought like two formidable giants resembling the sun and moon in the sky. Each of these two destroyers of their foes sought to find the weak point of his enemy.

Bali excelled in strength and valour while the son of Surya, Sugriva, despite his great energy, was the weaker, and his courage beginning to dwindle, he ceased to boast and, enraged with his brother, made a sign to Rama.

The uprooted trees with their branches and crests, the blows from fists, knees and feet, fell thick and fast in the formidable struggle that resembled the duel between Vritra and Vasava. Covered with blood, the two monkeys, dwellers in the forest, whilst fighting resembled two thunderclouds clashing together with a great uproar.

Rama, observing Sugriva, the Prince of Monkeys, exhausted scanning the horizon without ceasing to struggle, and, seeing that he was almost overcome, selected an arrow for the purpose of slaying Bali, and that great hero stretched his bow and with that shaft, resembling a venomous serpent, held it ready, like Antaka, bearing the Wheel of Time. The twanging of the bowstring caused alarm among the birds, who flew away, as also the wild beasts who fled in terror as at the end of the world period.

Discharged by Rama with a sound like the crash of thunder, that formidable arrow of dazzling aspect pierced Bali’s breast, and under its fatal impact the powerful and valiant King of the Monkeys fell to the earth, resembling Indra’s banner ruthlessly thrown to the ground on the day of the full moon in the month of the constellation of Aries.

Stricken and senseless, Bali fell, his voice strangled with sobs which gradually died away. Rama, the strongest of men, discharged that formidable, fiery and death-dealing arrow, shining like gold, resembling Time itself at the end of the world, which shot forth like smoke issuing from the flaming mouth of Hara, and, streaming with blood looked like unto a blossoming Ashoka tree on the mountain-side, whereupon the Son of Vasava, like the banner of Indra that has been overthrown, fell senseless on the field of battle.