Hello @flashfictionfridayofficial! wrote another original story for this friday's prompt with a mix of an old hindu mythology tale. Hope you and everyone who read this will enjoy.
Growing up in a house full of people, family, was a tough journey for me. In a time where making ends meet is the sole thought in the mind of a father it was not appropriate to even ask him to consider a separate room for myself. Thus I grit my teeth and studied through the noise, it was unbearable but time increased my patience.
As years rolled on, I learnt to hide some of my belongings in secret spots that were ultimately discovered by curious younger cousins. They played and destroyed them unknowingly in their innocence earning my wrath at times. Although that didn’t stop them from finding other spots that I thought were carefully hidden and destroying those as well.
An opportunity presented itself when I finished higher secondary school and began applying for a college education. A chance to study a specialized course in Indian Mythology, a favorite topic due to the many stories my grandmother recited during my childhood. I instantly applied and was selected in a humble institution far away from home. Convincing my family was hard but after constant pleading they relented.
So, off I went to experience freedom like never before with bags full of clothes, books and dreams. Reality brought me back to earth when I learnt that away from home there were things that I needed to work on my own. Each experience taught me a lesson but I was adamant, there is no way I should want to return home. Toiling away here was better than being surrounded by hooligans.
One day we were given an assignment, a report on one of the ten avatars of Lord Vishnu. We could choose any one and present it to the professor who would decide the top five reports to be published in the college magazine.
I chose Vamana, the fifth avatar of Lord Vishnu.
I ambled towards the library intent on reading every book available for research but sadly all copies of the Hindu Mythology books were lent to other students. I sat down with my notebook unable to form words in head, the page remained blank for hours.
A sense of defeat came over me and I cried myself to sleep.
A voice beseeched me not to give up and pulled me towards the temple behind my home. There sat an old lady speaking to a little child, she listened intently to the words coming out of her mouth asking questions once in a while.
Tired of the questions the old lady decided to tell a story of a boy saint who carried a kamandala and a small umbrella. He may seem like an innocent creature on his way to a gurukul but he had a mission.
King Bali prided himself for being the most generous giver, he had an ambition the position of Indra and to gain this he was suggested to perform a yajna. He immediately began preparations calling all the dignitaries and sages for the event.
The King wanted to provide donations to the renowned sages during the yajna as a token of his appreciation towards their knowledge and wisdom. He was known for never denying anyone’s wishes if they asked him something. Soon it was the turn of the boy saint who only asked for three steps of land. The king gladly accepted and as an act of this acceptance washed the boy’s feet in holy water.
The boy suddenly grew taller than the king, the buildings and ultimately the earth itself. He lifted one of his legs and touched the skies, stars and other parts of the universe. King Bali looked at the boy in amazement as he bent his head and asked,
“O King, where will you provide me the third step?”
The King smiled and bent one knee, he folded his hands reverently before the boy and said,
“O Lord You may keep the third step on top of my head”
The boy smiled and gently placed his foot above King Bali’s head, he pressed until the ground shook and engulfed him.
“Was the boy Lord Vishnu?” the girl asked the old lady
“Yes, you are smart aren’t you?” the old lady ruffled the girl’s head fondly
“But what was the mission?”
“There was nothing wrong with King Bali being a generous giver but he claimed to have more generosity than everyone in the world which was not possible as every being has their limits and lord Vishnu wanted to make him aware of this.”
I woke with a start and looked around me, it was dark and a candle was flickering in the room. I quickly took my notebook and began scribbling, the dream was nothing but my past manifesting in my brain. Grandma’s knowledge had rescued me.
The report gained much attention among my classmates when our professor lauded it, this was the only report that chose the Vamana avatar. When I was asked the reason for such a choice I merely pointed out that each avatar had its purpose and I merely wrote down the story and the purpose of this one.
While many analogies were made behind the significance of Vamana there was one that remained close to my heart. I felt a deep sense of gratitude towards my family as they might have given me only three steps of land but with resources such as books, radio and my grandmother’s stories I learnt about the earth, upper worlds and nether worlds which was more than enough space.
When I returned home for the holidays the ‘need more space’ part of my brain remained dormant until my cousins surrounded me.
