As the season of Onam arrives, Kerala blossoms in fragrance and color. Homes are adorned with pookalam flower carpets, families gather over feasts, and joy fills the air. Yet beyond the outward celebration lies a spiritual story that continues to echo through centuries—the story of Mahabali and the Vāmana avatāra of Lord Vishnu.
This is not just a tale of gods and kings. It is a reminder for every seeker who wonders why suffering persists, why fortune fades, and why the divine often seems silent in the face of human sorrow.
The Noble King and the Divine Test
Mahabali, the great Asura king, was known for his generosity, justice, and devotion. His reign was so prosperous that it rivaled the heavens. Yet, hidden beneath that grandeur was the subtle seed of pride. The devas, feeling threatened, turned to Vishnu for balance.
Vishnu came not in splendor, but as Vāmana, a humble dwarf brahmachari. With a soft request, He asked the mighty king for just three paces of land. Amused by the simplicity, Bali agreed. But in an instant, the dwarf grew into Trivikrama, the cosmic form of Vishnu. With one stride He spanned the heavens, with the second He covered the earth. For the third, Bali offered his own head.
At that moment, the proud king became the humble devotee. By surrendering his all, Bali found something eternal—union with the Lord.
The Question That Burns Within
Every human heart carries the same question Bali faced in silence: Why do we suffer even when we live righteously? Why does the divine not always intervene to shield us from loss?
We pray, we chant, we surrender, and still pain pierces our lives—through illness, separation, or the cruel march of time. At such moments, faith wavers. We feel abandoned, as though truth drowns in an ocean of falsehood, and injustice dances in victory.
Yet the story of Onam whispers that God’s silence is not absence. His grace often works through what seems like loss, shaping us for something higher.
The Footstep That Revealed the Infinite
When Vishnu placed His foot on Bali’s head, it was not an act of punishment but of liberation. The king lost his throne, yet gained what no wealth can buy—freedom from ego and closeness to the Divine.
This is the hidden message of Onam: suffering is not meaningless; it is the chiseling of the soul. Loss is not always loss; it may be the opening of a greater gift. In surrender, man becomes more than man—he becomes one with Nārāyaṇa.
Lakshmi in Disguise
The tale also reminds us that fortune is never fixed. Even Lakshmi, goddess of wealth, is depicted as moving from place to place, sometimes even in disguise as a beggar. Worldly prosperity is transient, but divine grace is constant. What appears as decline may actually be a doorway to inner abundance.
Onam’s Call to the Seeker
Onam is not only about harvest of fields but also about harvest of the heart. It teaches us:
- Ego builds empires, but surrender builds eternity.
- Suffering is not abandonment, but an invitation to union.
- The Lord often arrives quietly—in humble forms, in moments of loss, in whispers of the heart.
When we let go of bargaining with the divine and learn to offer our lives without expectation, His presence transforms every wound into wisdom, every pain into prayer.
The Eternal Festival
Today, as families rejoice in Onam, let us remember that its true celebration is not in feasts or flowers, but in the inner step of surrender. The same step Bali took when he bowed his head is the step we are invited to take—away from ego, into grace.
In that step, the boundaries of sorrow dissolve. In that step, we realize that beyond heaven and earth, beyond joy and grief, only the shining feet of Vishnu remain—carrying us from man to Nārāyaṇa, from time to eternity.
Authors: Shashank R Joshi and Shambo Samrat Samajdar
This is not just a tale of gods and kings. It is a reminder for every seeker who wonders why suffering persists, why fortune fades, and why the divine often seems silent in the face of human sorrow.
The Noble King and the Divine Test
Mahabali, the great Asura king, was known for his generosity, justice, and devotion. His reign was so prosperous that it rivaled the heavens. Yet, hidden beneath that grandeur was the subtle seed of pride. The devas, feeling threatened, turned to Vishnu for balance.
Vishnu came not in splendor, but as Vāmana, a humble dwarf brahmachari. With a soft request, He asked the mighty king for just three paces of land. Amused by the simplicity, Bali agreed. But in an instant, the dwarf grew into Trivikrama, the cosmic form of Vishnu. With one stride He spanned the heavens, with the second He covered the earth. For the third, Bali offered his own head.
At that moment, the proud king became the humble devotee. By surrendering his all, Bali found something eternal—union with the Lord.
The Question That Burns Within
Every human heart carries the same question Bali faced in silence: Why do we suffer even when we live righteously? Why does the divine not always intervene to shield us from loss?
We pray, we chant, we surrender, and still pain pierces our lives—through illness, separation, or the cruel march of time. At such moments, faith wavers. We feel abandoned, as though truth drowns in an ocean of falsehood, and injustice dances in victory.
Yet the story of Onam whispers that God’s silence is not absence. His grace often works through what seems like loss, shaping us for something higher.
The Footstep That Revealed the Infinite
When Vishnu placed His foot on Bali’s head, it was not an act of punishment but of liberation. The king lost his throne, yet gained what no wealth can buy—freedom from ego and closeness to the Divine.
This is the hidden message of Onam: suffering is not meaningless; it is the chiseling of the soul. Loss is not always loss; it may be the opening of a greater gift. In surrender, man becomes more than man—he becomes one with Nārāyaṇa.
Lakshmi in Disguise
The tale also reminds us that fortune is never fixed. Even Lakshmi, goddess of wealth, is depicted as moving from place to place, sometimes even in disguise as a beggar. Worldly prosperity is transient, but divine grace is constant. What appears as decline may actually be a doorway to inner abundance.
Onam’s Call to the Seeker
Onam is not only about harvest of fields but also about harvest of the heart. It teaches us:
- Ego builds empires, but surrender builds eternity.
- Suffering is not abandonment, but an invitation to union.
- The Lord often arrives quietly—in humble forms, in moments of loss, in whispers of the heart.
When we let go of bargaining with the divine and learn to offer our lives without expectation, His presence transforms every wound into wisdom, every pain into prayer.
The Eternal Festival
Today, as families rejoice in Onam, let us remember that its true celebration is not in feasts or flowers, but in the inner step of surrender. The same step Bali took when he bowed his head is the step we are invited to take—away from ego, into grace.
In that step, the boundaries of sorrow dissolve. In that step, we realize that beyond heaven and earth, beyond joy and grief, only the shining feet of Vishnu remain—carrying us from man to Nārāyaṇa, from time to eternity.
Authors: Shashank R Joshi and Shambo Samrat Samajdar
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