Dad: Here it is. This is the Okto shrine built in honour of …

Daughter: Okto.

Dad: That’s right. Now take off your sneakers and I’ll guide you through every statue and painting.

Daughter: Why do I need to take my sneakers off?

Dad: See, even I have taken mine off.

Daughter: But why?

Dad: My little girl, it is a tradition. It is insulting to enter the shrine wearing any footwear.

Daughter: But why?

Dad: Because footwears are dirty. We should be barefoot in order to connect deeply with Okto.

Daughter: But my friends don’t remove their shoes when they go to a shrine. They don’t even worship Okto.

Dad: Everyone has their own faith and God. And each has its own customs.

Daughter: So are there other holy figures besides Okto?

Dad: Yes there are.

Daughter: So Okto has no jurisdiction over them?

Dad: Okto has jurisdiction over everyone.

Daughter: Then wouldn’t Okto be mad seeing people worshipping other deities?

Dad: That’s not how it works. It’s a little complicated. You’re too young to understand it.

Daughter: Will my friends go to a different heaven when they die?

Dad: Oh let us not go that far. You will figure out everything when you grow up.

Daughter: At what age did you figure out everything, Dad?

Dad: I… um…

Daughter: Have you figured it out yet?

(Silence; a long silence)

Dad: Let’s go inside and I’ll explain everything.

(To be continued)

Daughter: Dad! Dad! I had a very frightening nightmare

Dad: Oh a nightmare! And frightening too! How unusual!

Daughter: Yes, but I can’t remember anything except that I felt scared.

Dad: Do you know why you had a nightmare?

Daughter: What do you mean?

Dad: Nightmares are Okto’s way of making evil people repent

Daughter: Am I evil? I have done nothing wrong.

Dad: Oh you have been a bad, bad girl. You have not been doing your homework on time. And you have been staying up late recently discussing all sorts of stories with me.

Daughter: Oh but I love stories! Does that make me evil. Will you stop telling me stories now?

Dad: In fact I am going to tell you how nightmares started.

There was once a poor village woman who worked hard in the fields all day and barely made enough money to feed herself and her four kids. Her husband had died several years ago leaving nothing behind. Most days she slept hungry but she always ensured that her kids had something to eat.

In monsoon the fields yielded a good produce which made her happy thinking that she will be to fetch a good price for it and not have to worry about food for some time. The next morning she saw that her crops had been stolen. She went from door to door asking for help to find her stolen goods but nobody did anything for her. That day even the kids had to sleep hungry. She was devastated and cried all night.

Meanwhile the thief was celebrating in his home about the ease with which he was able to lay his hands on the crops. He slept with a wide grin that night. But his happiness didn’t last long. In his dreams he saw a giant octopus who…

Daughter: That’s Okto!

Dad: Yes and Okto tormented him in his dreams all night. The thief woke up scared — just like you did — but did not pay any heed to it and went about doing his evil deeds. The next night Okto appeared in his dreams again and punished him for his evil ways. This went on for several days. The thief realised that this was not going to stop until he returned the stolen goods back to its owners. And so he did! He returned everything that he had ever stolen back to its rightful owners and begged for forgiveness. The villagers wanted to punish him but took mercy on him after seeing his plight. The man had not slept for several days and his mental state was on the brink of insanity.

That night Okto appeared in the woman’s dream and assured her that he will look after kind people like her and her kids and that no evil person will be able to sleep peacefully ever.

Daughter: So that’s how nightmares started?

Dad: Yes. If you want to avoid nightmares then you better be kind to everyone.

Daughter: But Dad I have a question. I didn’t see Okto in my dreams. It was something else for sure.

Dad: Okto has many forms. He doesn’t always appears as an octopus.

(To be continued)

Dad: As a child I remember being absolutely fascinated with volcanoes and I would pester my parents with questions about them. To shut me up they had to make up a story.

Daughter: Really? Tell me, tell me, tell me.

Dad: Well here it goes. A long, long time ago lived a fire-breathing dragon who terrorized a tiny village. The dragon would circle the sky as an indication that he was hungry and then swoop down rapidly and grab humans for his meal. Everybody was scared of him and nobody dared to put up a fight against him.

There was, however, one brave woman who wanted to put an end to this to save the village and her toddlers from his terror. There was a cursed cave in the village that nobody dared enter because nobody ever came out of it. The woman felt strongly that she would find a way to conquer the dragon inside that mysterious cave. Despite strong protests from her family and other villagers the woman entered the cave in search for an answer. Days and weeks and months passed but the woman did not come out of the cave. Everyone assumed that she fell victim to the cave’s traps.

But they were all wrong. She did come out of the cave holding a powerful, shiny sword. She claimed that it will help her slay the beast. Everyone cheered at the sight of her and hoped that her claim would come true.

That afternoon as the dragon circled the sky she stood in the middle of an open field with the sword in her hand while all the other villagers took shelter in their homes and bunkers where they could safely watch the contest unfold.

And indeed they were not let down. When the dragon swooped down to grab the woman, she wielded her sword and slayed the fire-breathing beast. The village burst in celebrations but the woman stood still. She explained that there was still plenty of work to be done and that she needed the whole village’s help.

She explained that the dragon had the power to revive himself and the only way that this could be avoided is if the dragon was cut up and his parts deposited in various corners of the world. And so it was agreed. The woman cut the dragon up with her sword and the villagers deposited the parts in various mountain around the world.

Daughter: And that’s how volcanoes came to be.

Dad: You are absolutely right. It is said that if a person manages to collect the lava from all the volcanoes and put them in a pot then the dragon will be revived

Daughter: Great! I have so many questions.

Dad: Not now, my girl. Now’s your sleeping time.

(To be continued)

Daughter: You know what happened in school today?

Dad: What happened?

Daughter: I heard a new story about how the world came into existence and now I’m confused.

Dad: Really? So what story did you hear today?

Daughter: A long, long time ago lived a curious little boy. The boy always asked questions to his parents and they had no answers whatsoever. The parents were simple farmers and wanted the boy to stop bothering them but the boy was persistent and would not stop until he had the answers to his questions.

The boy wanted to know why it rained from the skies, why the grass was green, why pigs could not speak their language, why the sun was visible only during the day, why he had two eyes and two ears but only one nose and one mouth, etc. The boy just wanted to know but his parents had no answers.

So his parents came up with a simple solution. They told him that a mighty being lived up in the clouds and that it created the world as it stands. This, they thought, would satisfy the boy and keep him quiet but they were wrong. The boy began to ask more and more questions. Now he wanted to learn about this mighty being who resided up in the clouds.

To solve this problem the boy’s parents began to tell him elaborate stories and this time the plan worked. The boy loved to hear about the mighty being and was very impressed. Soon he stopped asking questions and instead started narrating those stories to all his friends. Soon enough every child in the village had heard and shared the stories about the mighty being who resided up in the clouds.

When the kids grew up and had babies of their own they passed on the stories to them as well and the cycle continued. The stories got more and more elaborate with time and nobody dared question it lest they incur the wrath of the mighty being who resided up in the clouds.

Soon enough the village had temples and festivals to honour the mighty being. They prayed to him in times of trouble and thanked him whenever they had a bountiful crop.

Dad: That sounds so bogus and far-fetched.

Daughter: Wait there is more. Every region had its own curious child and its own stories trying to explain and make sense of the world around them. So the world was created in one particular way and every region had their own version of it.

Dad: So how exactly was the world created?

Daughter: Nobody knows, Dad. Nobody knows. All we know is that we are all raconteurs.

(To be continued)

Dad: Are you ready?

Daughter: Yes, I am.

Dad: There was once a giant octopus living all alone in the deep waters. As there was no other creature in the waters he often came to the shore to speak with a tall mango tree. They were the best of friends and they always helped each other.

One day, the octopus felt a severe pain in his body. He swam up to the tree and asked for his help. The tree said that he was helpless and there was nothing that he could do. The octopus lay himself down under the shade of the tree and kept crying in immense pain.

The octopus asked the tree for a mango in the hope that it may make him feel better but the tree refused. The tree explained that his mangoes were cursed and that nobody was supposed to eat it.

Daughter: Why were the mangoes cursed?

Dad: Um… because the tree had done something really bad I guess.

Daughter: What had the tree done?

Dad: Or maybe um… he had got it in exchange for the ability to speak.

Daughter: But that doesn’t make sense. If the tree could not originally speak…

Dad: Shush, my little girl. Let me complete the story. So where was I? Right! I was telling you how the tree refused to give the octopus his mangoes. The octopus kept crying in pain. Soon his skin began to pale and he felt extremely weak and vulnerable.

Seeing his state, the tree dropped a mango from one of his branches and warned the octopus that he must hold it in one of his tentacles till sunset before eating it to counter the curse. After sunset it will heal his pain and there will be no repercussions. If he failed to follow the rules then they both must prepare for the worst.

The octopus held the mango for a while but the pain was too much to bear for him. Despite the tree’s protests the octopus said that he could not resist any longer. He apologised to the tree and prayed that the pain will go away on eating it.

As soon as the octopus’ mouth touched the mango he felt relieved. A tiny dot of light came out of his mouth and swallowed the two friends and trapped them inside itself.

Daughter: So that tiny dot was the cause of the pain?

Dad: Yes indeed. But it was no ordinary dot. When the two friends tried to force their way out the dot exploded.

Daughter: Exploded?

Dad: And that’s how the universe came into existence

Daughter: No way! I have so many questions.

Dad: Not now, my girl. I want you to sleep right now. Tomorrow you will go to school and narrate this story to your friend, wouldn’t you?

Daughter: Yes I will. But what was the name of the octopus?

Dad: He was Okto.

(To be continued)

Dad: So what story would you like to hear tonight?

Daughter: Tonight, I am going to tell you a story. I heard it at school today.

Dad: Really? That is amazing. Go ahead.

Daughter: There was once an old lady who lived in a bizarre world where everything was black and white. Humans, animals, trees, flowers, butterflies and even the rainbows were simply colourless. The old lady loved painting and I am sure you can tell that even her paintings were black and white. It was just the way their world worked.

The old lady first started painting when she was a cute, little girl like me. And she was the best painter in the whole wide world. Everyone admired her works and she made her paintings look full of life.

In her dreams, one night, she saw some strange and mysterious things — it was something she could not describe or understand. What she had seen was a world full of colour — just like ours. She saw how everything appeared more beautiful when blessed with colours. When she woke up she wanted to recreate her dream on a canvas. She wanted to create a painting which wasn’t devoid of colours.

Alas, she had only her plain paintbrushes and colours and she felt disappointed. Nevertheless, she convinced herself that she will recreate the scene to the best of her ability. So she dipped her brush into the palette and began working on it. As soon as she put the final stroke on her canvas something magical happened.

Her painting started to grow colours on its own and the old lady simply stared in amazement. She had to pinch herself twice to make sure that she was not still dreaming. A few moments later the painting had become an exact replica of the world she had seen in her dreams. She was more than thrilled.

Dad: How did the painting get colourful?

Daughter: Aren’t you listening? I told you it was magic.

Dad: Oh yes! Forgive me! And please continue.

Daughter: So where was I? Oh yes, she got very excited with her painting and she showed it to everyone in her world and they all shared her amazement in equal measures.

Dad: I know what happens next. Someone tried to steal the painting, right?

Daughter: No, not at all, Dad. That would be so mean. That is not what happened at all. What happened is that she returned home that night still buzzing but tired and she fell asleep immediately. Again, in her dreams, she saw something similar. She began to see more of the world every night and she would wake up and paint it, and her work would magically fill up with colours.

Dad: That is a wonderful story, my girl.

Daughter: You know what the best part is? You know that the universe is constantly expanding, right? It is because the old lady is still painting.

Dad: What? No, not at all. That is a good story but not a true one.

Daughter: Yes, it is. And that’s how our world came into existence.

Dad: Who told you this story?

Daughter: My friend Kim.

Dad: And who told Kim?

Daughter: Her parents told her. Her household believes in the old lady and they worship her as God.

Dad: I’ll tell you how the world actually came into existence. It was not an old woman. It was an octopus.

(To be continued)