Onam was once celebration of sacrifice and balance. Now it’s Banana chips. Selfies. Showoffs. Discounts. Sheer stupidity. What have we done to our culture?
- Dr. Deepessh Divaakaran

- Sep 3
- 3 min read
Updated: Sep 5

We’ve forgotten what Onam really is.
We shrank it to payasam and selfies.
But once, it was blood.
Sacrifice.
Cosmic balance.
And this isn’t yesterday’s folklore.
The Rigveda was sung at least 1500 BCE.
Maybe earlier.
Long before Rome.
Long before the Bible.
Long before the West even had a script to write in.
In those verses, Bali was mentioned.
Not as a man.
But as a principle.
A demand from the universe itself.
To give.
To surrender.
To balance pride with sacrifice.
So when Kerala remembers Mahabali,
it isn’t nostalgia.
It’s Vedic memory.
Carried in our blood for over 3,000 years.
And the same Rigveda spoke another word.
Asura.
Not demon.
Never demon.
Asura once meant full of 'Asu.'
Breath.
Life-force.
Power itself.
The opposite of what you were taught.
The opposite of what invaders wanted you to believe.
Somewhere along the centuries we twisted it.
Or maybe they twisted it for us.
Until Asura became a curse.
Until we learned to hate our own blood.
The story runs deep.
Not myth.
Not bedtime tales.
But memory of bloodlines.
Kashyapa.
The Source.
Diti, his wife.
From them came the Asuras.
Children of fire.
Children of shadow.
Hiranyakashipu came first.
Arrogant.
Cruel.
Declaring himself greater than Vishnu.
Until Vishnu Came.
As Narasimha.
Ripped him apart.
Then Prahlada.
His son.
Gentle.
Devoted.
A king who remembered the divine when his father forgot.
Then Virochana.
Strong.
Charitable.
But blind to truth.
Mistaking body for soul.
And then Mahabali.
The grandson who rose higher than them all.
Brilliant.
Pious.
But Arrogant.
So Self Centred that,
Vishnu came again.
Not as a warrior.
But as Vamana, the dwarf.
Three steps to humble a king.
Yet Mahabali was not cursed.
He was blessed.
Given Sutala.
A kingdom below the earth,
yet more radiant than heaven.
But the cycle did not stop.
5100 BCE.
Ravana rose.
A Shiva bhakta.
A scholar of the Vedas.
But consumed by lust and arrogance.
Vishnu came again.
As Rama.
Cut him down.
And still bowed to him in death.
3200 BCE.
Kamsa came.
Ruthless.
Paranoid.
Drunk on fear.
Vishnu came again.
As Krishna.
Ended him.
With a smile.
Do you see the pattern?
Every time arrogance rises.
Every time cruelty grows.
Every time Dharma shakes.
Vishnu descends.
Not to punish.
To balance.
This is not religion.
This is science written in poetry.
Cycles.
Feedback loops.
Entropy and reset.
The ancients mapped it Codes and Hymns.
We map it today in physics and neuroscience.
Same truth.
Different language.
Cosmic balance.
The law that swallows kings and empires.
The law that never breaks.
Onam is not nostalgia.
It’s neuroscience.
The feast triggers oxytocin.
The flowers pattern your brain toward harmony.
The myth strengthens collective memory.
The games sync our rhythms.
It was designed to rewire us into balance.
And we forgot.
We turned a cosmic code into a festival of selfies.
We traded philosophy for banana chips.
And here’s the part no one tells you.
Far away, in Bali, Indonesia,
they still revere Mahabali.
They still chant the names of Vishnu and Shiva.
So I ask you this.
If Mahabali returns today,
will he recognize us?
Or will he turn away in silence, ashamed of what we’ve become?
Happy Onam!!!

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Pure bullshit. Do you even know what Veda is? Vedas do not mention Mahabali.