The Story of Three Paces
Onam | Mythological origins of the festival
This story is part of the new series which seeks to retell the mythological origins of certain festivals celebrated in India. While there has been strong attempt to ensure there is some grounding by citing ancient literature, creative liberty has been taken in the narrative only to dramatize the events and add psychological depths to the characters. This may (or may not) infuse new meaning to the festival itself. The views are of my own expressed without the intention of hurting anyone’s belief.
OVERVIEW
As a phenomenon, Onam has evolved from being a festive season to a carrier of the cultural traditions and collective memories of a region. Every ritual in it has a deep link to the past, often finding traces in mythology.
There is a popular legend that the festival was the celebration of the birth of Kerala as a state forming when Parashurama threw his ax. However, the one significant myth that is mostly attributed to the origin of this festival is in a story from the like Śrīmad Bhāgavatam about the Asura King Mahābalī and Vishnu’s avatar Vāman.
STORY
— — — — — — — — — — Start — — — — — — — — — — —
Śukrāchārya wasn’t convinced.
His experience and instincts told him that the person in front of them at the sacrificial arena wasn’t just some dwarf sage.
It was supposed to be the day for Aśvamedhá yagna (Horse sacrifice ritual), in celebration of the new territories gained by Mahābalī (Great Balī). However, his attention along with the entire crowd was fixated on this short-statured man dressed in nothing but a belt made of munja (straw), an upper garment of deerskin and a sacred thread. With one hand, the dwarf held chhatri (an umbrella) and in the other kamandalu (a water pot). But it was the serenity in his expression that seemed to have had even King Mahābalī mesmerised, especially when he made a peculiar demand.
Śukrāchārya moved closer to the King’s ears.
“Balī, I beg of you. Something is not right. Do not pay heed to his request.”
But he knew his student well. It wasn’t very characteristic of King Mahābalī to ever turn anyone down, much less a Brahmin sage who claimed to be Vāman, son of Rishi Kashyap. Especially, not on a day like this, when any subject was sanctioned to ask for something.
The Herald, who was making announcements on behalf of the King was about to say something when Mahābalī signaled him to hold. He got up from his throne and walked down the podium towards Vāman before bending down on his knees as the processions in the background halted to a pause.
“Oh, Vāman dev, I want to be clear. I said you could ask for anything. But all you want is a mere three paces of land?”
Vāman smiled and calmly said, “I have heard tales of your benevolence, so I had to come to see for it myself, King Mahābalī. The popularity of your reputations matches that of the legends of your ancestors, such as your grandfather Prahlād and his father Hiranyākash before him. So yes, three paces of land would be enough. But before you promise me, you should consider if have enough to give.”
Mahābalī was taken aback by the last comment almost to the point of being insulted. “Have enough to give? I am what I am only to serve my subjects. The empire I have built over the years across the three realms is only to ensure their well-being and the welfare of their future.”
“Are you suggesting that the world belongs to you, Your Majesty? Like how the Swarga Lok belongs to Indra and Devtas — “
“Belonged.”, came a voice from behind Mahābalī.
Śukrāchārya interjected, walking down towards them.
“It BELONGED to Indra before Balī won their realm in the battle, as he deserves to. He and his Devtas finally got to learn a lesson in humility.”
“It would not have been possible, without your guidance, Āchārya (Guru). Had it not been for your Sanjeevini Vidya (wisdom of rejuvenation), I might never have returned from the dead — “
“It is your birthright as an Asura, my dear student. Something that Devtas have been trying to get their hands on for millennia. But they have never proved themselves worthy, not like you.”
“You and all the Gods honor me, Āchārya. Which is you know why I cannot go back on my words.”
Mahābalī touched his guru’s feet for blessing, but Śukrāchārya kept looking at Vāman with contempt and curiosity. For a moment, their eyes met. He felt as if he was staring into the cosmic abyss itself. He suddenly realized who this was.
“No, Balī. Stop! That’s actually — “
It was too late. He was cut short by Mahābalī’s words, “Vāman dev, take your three paces and claim the land beneath it.”
Just as he said the words, Vāman began to grow bigger in size, first reaching the height of a tree. Then a tower. Then a mountain.
The crowd’s scream was drowned by the sounds of the tectonic plates moving beneath the ground compensating for the growing weight of the enlarging figure.
Soon, the sun was eclipsed by the silhouette of the dwarf — now a giant the size of a heavenly object. With the first step, Vāman seemed to have covered Prithvi Lok (the entire mortal realm). Since he was still growing, the whole Swarg Lok (heavenly realm) and Patal Lok (the nether realm) came under his second step.
“Who are you?”, Mahābalī asked, completely stunned.
“That’s Lord Vishnu of the Trimurti, himself” Śukrāchārya explained. “He tricked you.”
Despite his size, Vishnu did not seem to have lost sight of them. While still manifesting his Vāman avatar, his voice was now of the Supreme God that everyone in all the realms could recognize.
“I was promised three steps, but everything is covered in two. There is nothing more left. It can be said that it is you, Mahābalī, the great ruler who has tricked me. I had asked you carefully consider my request before you give your word. Is there anything that you can give me for my third step?”
Śukrāchārya watched as Mahābalī stood silently, still bent on his knees with his head bowed. He couldn’t believe that his premonition had come true.
He knew that Devtas had been jealous of Mahābalī’s growth, strength, and popularity since he had won everything from them. This was typical of them to get one of the primordial Gods to intervene in the matters — especially when they are losing to the Asuras.
This was wrong! He thought. Viṣhṇu just had taken everything from Bali. How could he demand such a thing? What more was there?
“My head.”
Shocked to hear, Śukrāchārya turned to see Mahābalī taking off his crown.
“What are you doing, Balī?”
“It’s ok, Āchārya. Lord Vishnu is right. I did say three paces. As the Supreme Being, who am I to deny what was promised?”
Mahābalī folds hands and prays to the gigantic form of Vishnu
“I do not have anything but myself to give. It may not be much, but I hope you take this as an offering from your biggest devotee. If this isn’t enough, I am ready to take any punishment from you as you deem fit.”
Vishnu moves his enormous feet towards Mahābalī’s head, only to stop as the tip touches it.
“Mahābalī, I hope that you and the rest of the world have learned a lesson here about boundaries of humility. However, as you have rightly realized, you did not truly fulfill your promise. So, I am sending you back to Patal Lok where you belong. There you can continue ruling as you wish though you cannot claim any land or realm beyond it. But the dedication and devotion you have shown today is admirable, if not incomparable. Know that I am very pleased with you and for that, I shall give you a boon: Since you have always been benevolent and just King here in this realm, loved dearly by your subject, I will not let your legacy be passed into oblivion. Every year, I shall allow you to return to this land on this very day. Your arrival will not just be eagerly awaited but extravagantly celebrated by all.”
Mahābalī seemed so pleased that he began to weep. “As you wish, my Lord. I cannot put into words how blessed I feel with that. I am ready now to go.”
Right after saying these words, he vanished into the ground along with Vishnu.
For the longest time, Śukrāchārya remains stunned looking at the spot where Mahābalī stood a moment ago. But the anger was soon replaced by admiration. Today, it was the student who had taught something to the teacher.
He turned to the crowd, who were still recovering from the shocking sequence of events they had just witnessed.
“Let us never forget today. In Mahābalī’s honor, we shall await his return and we will always remember. Māveli nadu vaneedum kalam (When Mahābalī, our King, ruled the land)”
The crowd cheered along, chanting the phrase into a song.
— — — — — — — — — — End — — — — — — — — — — —
Citations:
- https://medium.com/@Kuvalayamala/onam-vamana-and-mahabali-838534eb05b1
- http://gitabase.com/eng/SB/8/18
Cover Illustration done by self
