The Bravery of King Bali: A Devotional Reflection

3
# Min Read

Bhagavata Purana

The Bravery of King Bali: A Devotional Reflection  

A timeless story of transformation and divine connection  

I was just a servant—not even in the front row, not close to power, just one among many in the court of Mahabali, the greatest king asura to ever live. Those who feared him called him a demon. But we, his people, knew better.  

He ruled from the underworld, yes. But every grain from harvest reached the poor. Every judgment was fair. His name meant strength, and that was exactly what he gave us.  

That was before Lord Vishnu came.  

It started quietly. A small Brahmin boy entered the court. Those soft feet seemed odd in our marble halls—he looked more like a poor student than anyone of importance. His name was Vamana.  

“Such a tiny boy,” Mahabali said, smiling. “And yet you carry yourself like a teacher. What do you seek?”  

Vamana bowed, his voice calm. “Three steps of land, O King. That is all I ask.”  

We all laughed. Even the guards chuckled. Our king raised his hand, laughing too. “Three steps? So little? I could give you whole provinces.”  

“You offered without knowing who stands before you,” his guru Shukracharya whispered. “This is Lord Vishnu, come in disguise. Beware. He seeks your throne.”  

But Mahabali’s smile didn’t fade. “If it is Vishnu, then what better hands to give my kingdom to? Do we not say in Bhakti that surrender is the highest act?”  

Then everything changed.  

In the blink of an eye, Vamana grew. Not just tall. Celestial. His body stretched across the sky. His first step covered the entire Earth. I fell to my knees, everyone did.  

With his second step, he covered the heavens. The whole of existence fit beneath his stride. Still, one step remained.  

“Where shall I place my last step, O King?” Vishnu thundered.  

The court was trembling. Skies had darkened. My heart was pounding.  

Mahabali looked up and bowed low. Then, slowly, he touched his forehead. “Place it here, my Lord. On my head.”  

I won’t forget what happened next.  

The light from Lord Vishnu’s toe glowed golden as it pressed down. Slowly, with grace, he pushed the king beneath the Earth’s surface. The Lord smiled—not in victory, but in blessing.  

Mahabali had lost everything. His lands. His fame. His rule. And yet he looked peaceful, as if he had won something greater.  

Later that night, as I lit the lamps in the now quiet palace, I heard a small voice echo in my mind. It was the King’s.  

“I did not give because I had to. I gave because dharma means surrender. Not to man. To truth. To God. When we offer everything to the Divine—kingdoms, name, pride—then we gain what no throne can give.”  

That night stayed with me. Mahabali had ruled with strength, but he left with wisdom.  

Vishnu had not punished him. No. He had honored him. It’s said that Lord Vishnu allowed Mahabali to visit his people once every year—a promise kept to this day in the festival of Onam. A celebration not of conquest, but of devotion.  

People today remember Mahabali as a king who gave too much. But I remember him as a soul who knew that Bhakti—the path of surrender—was not weakness, but the highest strength.  

He gave up his place in the world. But in return, he found place in the Lord’s heart.  

That, I think, is bravery.  

Let others chase power. I was there when a king chose Dharma over pride.  

And I have lived with that light in me ever since.  

—  

Themes: wisdom, devotion, compassion  

Keywords: Bhakti, Vishnu, Spiritual Journey, Krishna, Puranas, Dharma  

Word Count: 595

Sign up to get access

Sign Up

The Bravery of King Bali: A Devotional Reflection  

A timeless story of transformation and divine connection  

I was just a servant—not even in the front row, not close to power, just one among many in the court of Mahabali, the greatest king asura to ever live. Those who feared him called him a demon. But we, his people, knew better.  

He ruled from the underworld, yes. But every grain from harvest reached the poor. Every judgment was fair. His name meant strength, and that was exactly what he gave us.  

That was before Lord Vishnu came.  

It started quietly. A small Brahmin boy entered the court. Those soft feet seemed odd in our marble halls—he looked more like a poor student than anyone of importance. His name was Vamana.  

“Such a tiny boy,” Mahabali said, smiling. “And yet you carry yourself like a teacher. What do you seek?”  

Vamana bowed, his voice calm. “Three steps of land, O King. That is all I ask.”  

We all laughed. Even the guards chuckled. Our king raised his hand, laughing too. “Three steps? So little? I could give you whole provinces.”  

“You offered without knowing who stands before you,” his guru Shukracharya whispered. “This is Lord Vishnu, come in disguise. Beware. He seeks your throne.”  

But Mahabali’s smile didn’t fade. “If it is Vishnu, then what better hands to give my kingdom to? Do we not say in Bhakti that surrender is the highest act?”  

Then everything changed.  

In the blink of an eye, Vamana grew. Not just tall. Celestial. His body stretched across the sky. His first step covered the entire Earth. I fell to my knees, everyone did.  

With his second step, he covered the heavens. The whole of existence fit beneath his stride. Still, one step remained.  

“Where shall I place my last step, O King?” Vishnu thundered.  

The court was trembling. Skies had darkened. My heart was pounding.  

Mahabali looked up and bowed low. Then, slowly, he touched his forehead. “Place it here, my Lord. On my head.”  

I won’t forget what happened next.  

The light from Lord Vishnu’s toe glowed golden as it pressed down. Slowly, with grace, he pushed the king beneath the Earth’s surface. The Lord smiled—not in victory, but in blessing.  

Mahabali had lost everything. His lands. His fame. His rule. And yet he looked peaceful, as if he had won something greater.  

Later that night, as I lit the lamps in the now quiet palace, I heard a small voice echo in my mind. It was the King’s.  

“I did not give because I had to. I gave because dharma means surrender. Not to man. To truth. To God. When we offer everything to the Divine—kingdoms, name, pride—then we gain what no throne can give.”  

That night stayed with me. Mahabali had ruled with strength, but he left with wisdom.  

Vishnu had not punished him. No. He had honored him. It’s said that Lord Vishnu allowed Mahabali to visit his people once every year—a promise kept to this day in the festival of Onam. A celebration not of conquest, but of devotion.  

People today remember Mahabali as a king who gave too much. But I remember him as a soul who knew that Bhakti—the path of surrender—was not weakness, but the highest strength.  

He gave up his place in the world. But in return, he found place in the Lord’s heart.  

That, I think, is bravery.  

Let others chase power. I was there when a king chose Dharma over pride.  

And I have lived with that light in me ever since.  

—  

Themes: wisdom, devotion, compassion  

Keywords: Bhakti, Vishnu, Spiritual Journey, Krishna, Puranas, Dharma  

Word Count: 595

Want to know more? Type your questions below