Prahlad and Hiranyakashipu - The Son Who Defied His Father

Hiranyakashipu: "Say it."

The demon king's voice shook the palace. His son—small, calm, infuriatingly serene—stood before him.

Hiranyakashipu: "Say 'Hiranyakashipu is God.' Say it, and all this ends."

Prahlad: "I cannot say what is not true, Father."

Hiranyakashipu: "I have conquered Indra! I have defeated the gods! I rule heaven, earth, and the underworld! If I am not God, who is?"

Prahlad: "Vishnu is God. He is everywhere—in you, in me, in this pillar, in that throne. He is the truth behind all truths."

Hiranyakashipu: "Vishnu! Vishnu killed my brother Hiranyaksha! Vishnu is my enemy! And my own son worships him?"

Prahlad: "Vishnu is no one's enemy, Father. He is the Self in all beings. When you hate him, you hate yourself."

Hiranyakashipu: "I'll teach you to speak such nonsense. Throw him from the cliff."

They threw him. He survived, landing softly, chanting Vishnu's name.

Hiranyakashipu: "Drown him."

They held him underwater for hours. He emerged smiling, still chanting.

Hiranyakashipu: "Burn him."

They built a pyre. His aunt Holika, immune to fire, sat with him in the flames. She burned. He walked out unharmed.

Hiranyakashipu: "Poison him. Crush him with elephants. Throw him to the serpents."

Nothing worked. Each attempt failed. The boy remained devoted, undamaged, impossibly peaceful.

Finally, Hiranyakashipu summoned him again.

Hiranyakashipu: "How do you survive? What magic protects you?"

Prahlad: "No magic, Father. Only faith. Vishnu protects those who love him."

Hiranyakashipu: "Vishnu is not here! I have searched the three worlds! He hides from me like a coward!"

Prahlad: "He is not hiding. You are not looking. He is there."

Prahlad pointed at a pillar.

Hiranyakashipu: "In that pillar? Your Vishnu lives in a stone pillar?"

Prahlad: "He lives everywhere. But if you wish to test it—strike the pillar. See what happens."

Something in the boy's certainty made the demon king pause. But pride was stronger than caution.

He struck the pillar with his mace.

The pillar exploded.

From it emerged Narasimha—half man, half lion, neither fully human nor fully animal. Not inside a building, not outside. Not during day, not during night—it was twilight. Not on earth, not in the sky—he held Hiranyakashipu on his lap.

Every condition of the demon's boon of invincibility was circumvented.

NARASIMHA: "You asked for protection from gods and demons. I am neither. You asked to die neither inside nor outside, neither by day nor by night, neither on earth nor in the sky, neither by weapon nor by hand."

The god's claws—not hands, not weapons—tore into the demon's chest.

NARASIMHA: "Your cleverness has found its limit, Hiranyakashipu. There is always a door that pride cannot lock."

The demon king died, his invincibility undone by the very specificity that was supposed to guarantee it.

Prahlad watched, tears in his eyes.

NARASIMHA: "You weep for your father?"

Narasimha asked, blood still dripping from his claws.

Prahlad: "I weep for what he could have been. He was brilliant, powerful, devoted—once. He could have used his strength for good. Instead, he used it to deny what he already knew. That he was not separate from you. That his war against divinity was a war against himself."

NARASIMHA: "You do not hate him?"

Prahlad: "How can I hate my own father? How can I hate anyone who is also Vishnu? You are in him too. Were in him. Even as he denied you, you were the awareness behind his denial."

Narasimha's fury softened.

NARASIMHA: "You understand more than most, child."

Prahlad: "I understand only this: love is stronger than hate. Faith is stronger than force. And even the mightiest demon cannot defeat what is inside him."

The god blessed the boy—the child who would not bend, would not break, would not stop believing.

The child who proved that truth needs no army.

Only certainty.