Jalsa Raakshasi: It’s time to sleep, grandson
Jilpaasura: Tell me a story, grandma
JR: Do you want a happy story or a sad story?
JA: I’m bored of happy ones. Tell me a sad story
JR: Long ago, there lived a righteous king, a doyen of our clan, Mahabali, who ruled righteously over the land of Kerala. Everybody in the kingdom was happy because, for a change, there was no discrimination based on caste or class. But the gods couldn’t stand his popularity
JA: So what did they do?
JR: They sent a dwarf
JA: To fight Mahabali in a Quake Deathmatch?
JR: No. To ask Mahabali for a gift, knowing that the legendary king’s generosity will prevail over any sense of foreboding that the dwarf was up to no good
JA: So what did he do?
JR: He asked for land.
JA: To which I am sure, the great king laughed like our uncle Kumarimutthasura.
JR: He did, and he asked the dwarf to go ahead and take his 3 steps worth of land. The dwarf immediately did a View->Zoom->1600% and covered all of the earth and the skies in 2 steps and asked Mahabali where he could keep his third step.
JA: That’s not cricket, grandmom
JR: Yes. What to do? The gods were all amit_123s (see glossary for definition) and they didn’t like big-moustachioed Madrasi kings. So anyway, the great king offered his head as a resting place, and the dwarf took that chance to push the king into the middle of Bangalore traffic (also known as Paataala)
JA: Holy face paint of Shantakumaran Sreesanth, that is totally not cricket.
JR: Mahabali, despite these grievous insults, was still all humility, and asked the dwarf if he could have permission to visit Kerala once a year to meet his people.
JA: And?
JR: The people of Kerala celebrate his visit by doing flower rangoli (Pookkalam) and eating Asura sized meals (Sadhya).
JA: This is ridiculous. They should be mourning this gross injustice instead of celebrating some amit_123 god’s zoom-effects based chicanery. Didn’t the asuras go on a hartal when this originally happened?
JR: We did. After all, it’s Kerala, so we did go on a hartal demanding justice for Mahabali.
JA: So what happened?
JR: Some good looking Mohiniattam dancer distracted us by serving us some really tasty jackfruit paayasam for free. So the hartal was called off.
JA: Ah damn. I really like Jackfruit paayasam.
JR: Would you like to drink some before you sleep?
JA: Oh yes (and proceeds to gulp down a few litres of Chakkapradhaman). Good night grandma. What story are you going to tell me tomorrow night?
JR: I will tell you another sad story, the one about the great-grandfather of Mahabali, the noble Hiranyakasipu, who, like any responsible father, tried to convince his son Prahlada to live life, have fun, learn knowledge and be a good human being instead of monotonously repeating a single word (“Narayana”) a million times a day for no reason. He was just afraid that his son was turning into an obsessive-compulsive, and might need therapy.
JA: And did Prahlada listen? What did he do?
JR: Not now. Tomorrow night. Now go to sleep.
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