The Ten Avatars of Vishnu

Told in English, Telugu.

It was the first evening of Dasara, and Ammamma's house in the village smelled of jasmine and fresh payasam. In the front room stood the bommala koluvu, the wooden steps covered with a red cloth, waiting for the dolls.

Sirisha was seven, and this year Ammamma had given her the most important job. "You will set up the Dasavatara dolls," Ammamma said, handing her an old tin box. "Ten dolls. Ten forms of Lord Vishnu. Count them carefully."

Sirisha opened the box and lined the dolls up on the top step. She counted on her fingers. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine." She stopped. She counted again. "Ammamma! There are only nine!"

Ammamma put on her glasses and looked. "Hmm. Someone is missing. Let us find out who. Tell me about each doll, one by one, and the one we cannot find will be our missing friend."

Sirisha picked up the first doll, a shining fish. "This is easy. Matsya!"

"Yes," said Ammamma, sitting down on the mat. "Long, long ago, a good king named Manu was washing his hands in a river. A tiny fish swam into his palm and said, Please keep me safe. So Manu put it in a pot. Next morning the fish had grown too big for the pot. He moved it to a pond, then a lake, then the sea, and still it grew. Then the fish said, A great flood is coming. Build a boat. When the waters rose, the huge fish pulled Manu's boat to safety. It was Vishnu all along."

Sirisha placed the fish on the step and picked up a turtle. "Kurma!"

"The devas and asuras wanted to churn the ocean of milk," said Ammamma, "the way we churn curd to make butter. They used a whole mountain as the churning stick. But the mountain began to sink. So Vishnu became a giant turtle, swam underneath, and held the mountain on his back. Round and round it went, and out came wonderful treasures."

Next came a boar with a tiny round earth resting on its tusks. "Varaha," said Sirisha. "Why is he holding the earth?"

"A proud demon named Hiranyaksha hid Bhoodevi, Mother Earth, deep under the ocean," said Ammamma. "Vishnu became a mighty boar, dived down into the dark water, and lifted the earth gently up on his tusks, like you lift a baby."

The fourth doll had the face of a lion. Sirisha held it a little carefully. "Narasimha looks fierce."

Ammamma smiled. "Fierce to bullies, kind to children. There was a little boy named Prahlada who loved Vishnu with all his heart. His father, King Hiranyakashipu, was angry and shouted, Where is your Vishnu? Is he in this pillar? Prahlada said, He is everywhere. And out of the pillar came Narasimha, half man and half lion, and he stopped the cruel king. Then he took little Prahlada on his lap, very gently."

Sirisha liked that part. She set the lion next to the boar and picked up a little boy with an umbrella. "Vamana is so small!"

"Small, but clever," said Ammamma. "King Bali was generous, but he had become too powerful. The little Vamana came and asked, Will you give me just three steps of land? Bali laughed and said yes. Then Vamana grew and grew, taller than the trees, taller than the clouds. With one step he covered the earth, with the second the sky. And for the third, Bali bowed his head and said, Place your foot here."

"Three steps!" Sirisha laughed. She placed the sixth doll, a man with an axe. "Parashurama."

"He stood up against proud kings who were troubling good people," said Ammamma. "And the seventh?"

"Sri Rama, with his bow!" Sirisha said quickly. "He brought Sita back from Lanka."

"Very good. And the eighth is Balarama, with his plough, the strong elder brother. And the ninth..."

Sirisha held up the little blue doll with a flute. "Krishna! He lifted Govardhana hill on one finger to keep the cows and the people dry in the big rain."

Now nine dolls stood on the step. Sirisha looked at the empty space at the end. "So who is missing, Ammamma?"

"Think... think," said Ammamma. "Who comes after Krishna?"

Sirisha frowned. Then her eyes went wide. "Kalki! The one on the white horse!"

"That is right. Kalki has not come yet," Ammamma said softly. "The old stories say that one day, when the world needs him most, he will come riding to set things right."

Sirisha ran to the tin box and turned it upside down. Nothing. She looked under the mat. Nothing. She looked behind the red cloth. Still nothing. Her lip began to wobble. "What if he is lost forever?"

Ammamma put a warm hand on her shoulder. "When something is missing, we do not give up. That is what all ten stories teach us. Look once more, slowly."

Sirisha picked up the empty box again. Something rattled. Inside the lid was a little folded cloth, and inside the cloth was a tiny white horse, and on the horse sat Kalki, holding his sword up high.

"I found him!" she shouted.

She placed Kalki at the very end of the step. Now all ten stood in a row: fish, turtle, boar, lion, little boy, axe, bow, plough, flute, and horse.

Ammamma lit the deepam in front of them, and its light danced on every little face. "Do you see, Sirisha? Whenever the world was in trouble, Vishnu came. Sometimes as a tiny fish. Sometimes as a giant boar. Sometimes as a small boy asking for three steps."

Sirisha leaned against Ammamma and counted one last time, very slowly. Can you count with her? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

"All here," she whispered sleepily. "Nobody is missing now."