“Do you smell something burning?”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing.”
“I could swear I smelled something burning.”
“And I’m telling, you, it’s nothing to worry your little head about. Relax. Everything’s going to be okay soon.”
“Okay.”
A few minutes pass.
“Auntie...”
“Yes, dear?”
“Why are we sitting here, on this pile of logs?”
“Because you ticked your dear daddy off something terrible.”
“Why is he ‘ticked off’ with me?”
“Because you keep chanting that name all the time.”
“You mean ‘Na—’”
“Stop! Stop it right there. Don’t say it!”
“But why? What’s wrong if I say it?”
“Good grief, child! Do you have any idea how irritating that is? It sounds like the drone of a mosquito in your ear—only worse, when you do it with your high-pitched kiddy voice. It’s enough to drive any man—or demon—mad. No wonder your dad’s so ticked off with you!”
“Is that why he yelled at me before sending me into that room full of snakes?”
“Uh huh. And yet you survived. Tell me, how did you do it?”
“What? Play with the snakes?”
“Yes, yes. Tell me, what did you do in there?”
“Why, I did what that nice Holy Man told me to do all the time. I chanted the magic rhyme. It’s fun, you know. You should try it sometime.”
“What magic rhyme?”
“Nar—”
“Stop!”
“Okay. But it was fun, watching the snakes wriggle about, trying to crawl up my legs. I really enjoyed playing with them.”
“Y-you played with them?”
“Yes. It was great fun. All those colourful snakes, like playing ropes. I picked some of them up and whacked them about, tied some of them into knots, did some skipping with one that was very long…”
“Oh my god!”
“But they went away, I don’t know why. They didn’t want to play with me anymore. So I chanted that rhyme to ‘tick’ them off, those wicked snakes! It seems to ‘tick’ everybody off, that magic rhyme.”
“Oh, you have no idea. Tell me, is that what you did to those wild elephants, too: ‘ticked’ them off with your magic rhyme?”
“Yes, Auntie. They wouldn’t let me climb on their backs, so I got mad at them and started screaming the magic rhyme until they ran away.”
“I pity those poor creatures. It must have been terrible for them, with those ears of theirs!”
“Auntie, I’m beginning to feel hot. That man there just poured some more oil into our pile of logs. Why did he do that? Can’t he see it’s making the fire go higher? I can’t see daddy anymore. Can you hear him? He’s laughing. And mummy, she’s crying. Why is she crying?”
“Oh, questions, questions! Don’t you ever stop? Just sit still. It’ll all be over soon.”
“But Auntie, I’m feeling hot! Why are you holding me so tightly? Please let go. Don’t you feel the heat?”
“Not much, no.”
“Is it because you’re wearing this special saree? Let me see, please!”
“Hey! Let go of my fire-retardant asbestos shawl!”
“Let me see! Let me see! I want one, too! Gimme!”
“No! Wait! What are you doing? Hey! Give that back to me, you—”
“Nara—”
“No! Anything but that!”
“Gimme your magic shawl, or I’ll start my magic rhyme again!”
“Okay, here you go! Take it!”
“Whee! This is so cool! Look, this is my magic cape!”
“Hey, you guys! Get me out of here, quick! The kid’s got my asbestos suit!”
“I’ve got a magic cape, I’ve got a magic cape! Look, look! Even the fire can’t burn it!”
“Guys! Hey, you hear me? Put out the fire! He’s got my suit!”
“Look, Auntie—hey! What are you doing? Leggo of my magic cape!”
“Give that back to me, you little twit! Gimme back my suit!”
“Nara—”
“NO! GUYS! HELP ME! GET ME OUTTA HERE!!”
“Auntie, don’t jump about so. You’ll fall into the fire.”
“GUYS!! G—Aiiieeeeee…”
The End
(The above is an uncensored, ‘uncoloured-by-religious-sentiments’ version of true events, faithfully and accurately transcribed by palaeography experts from records excavated from the Marappa and Hohenjodaro sites.)
(Authenticated and approved The Mythillogical Society of India)
Why so many aunthentification claims at the end? No, don't worry I won't tell that fella sitting in Mumbai! Narayana narayana..happy holi!
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