Hiranyakashipu had made it the law that his own name be said in place of any god's. His son Prahlad went on saying Narayan.
He was thrown off a cliff, put under an elephant, given poison. None of it took. So his aunt Holika, who had a cloth that fire could not touch, took him into her lap and sat down in a bonfire.
The cloth came off her and covered him. She burned; he walked out saying the same name he went in saying.
The fire on this night is that fire. What a house wants finished with goes into it, and the next morning, when there is nothing left to be afraid of, everybody throws colour.
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