In yesterday’s Songkran post I alluded to the holiday’s origin legend, kinda like a trailer for a soon to be released blockbuster movie. So yeah, I already gave ya all the good parts. But nonetheless, today I thought I’d fill you in on the rest of the tale, or at least the Bangkokboi’s version of the story. ‘Cuz if you are going to spend a week getting drenched every time you step outside, you should at least know the historical basis for those buckets of water headed your way. But then this is Thailand. So water, what Songkran is known for, has nothing to do with the legend. That retelling the story gives me yet another opportunity for posting some pix of hot, wet, male flesh is all that really matters anyway.

Once upon a time, there was a rich old fart, who not realizing that all it takes is money to have a youngster of your own, instead prayed for a son. Obviously, this tale is not set in Sunee Plaza. Thais, like Christians, like to borrow their religious myths from ancient religions, so in their telling of the Songkran tale, Indra (a major god) sent Dharmapal (a minor god) to be reborn on Earth as the son of the rich old codger. But in the Thai story there is no manger, and Thais aren’t quite foolish enough to believe in virgin births so don’t be thinking there is anything to do with a more well known Christian tale in this one. ‘Cuz in the Thai version of that tale Judas would have been elevated to god status for scoring all that silver coin.

As with all Thai legends, who is who and what their name or names are change from one telling to the next. Somehow, Dharmapal becomes Thammabal Kumara – as well as a host of related knock-off names – which I’m gonna say follows the tradition of young Thai men picking out a new nickname when they start working at a gogo bar. Not that what his name was is any more important to you than what the name was of the hottie you offed last night. What is important is that being blessed by a god does not mean said god will not fuck with you in the future. As the rich old fart of this tale soon learned.

So Indra – who also gets a name change and is now known as Kabilla Phrom – descends from the heavens to check up on how little Thammabal is doing and decides that he’s doing a bit too well. Or Kabilla Phrom was just in a bad mood. Or hadn’t had his daily caffeine fix yet. Regardless, he decides to enter into a battle of wits with the 7-year-old, a predecessor to Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader? game show. He posed a riddle to Thammabal – even though everyone knows 7-year-olds prefer knock knock jokes – and bets him that he can not solve it. Now as soon as I mentioned a 7-year-old, if you are a fan of Pattaya you probably starting thinking head. Well, so did Kabilla Phrom. But of a different kind. Being Thai and loving gambling as all Thais do, he decided the payoff would be that if Thammabal failed to solve the riddle he would lose his head, and if he came up with the answer Kabilla Phrom instead would be looking at too close of a shave. Being the good sport that he wasn’t, he gave Thammabal seven days to use his head to figure out the answer before he’d no longer have one.

The riddle has three parts. Because when you take on a child you should always stack the deck. It was (allowing for differences in translation): where did a person’s aura exist in the morning, where was it at noon, and where did it appear at night?

Now personally, in dealing with a 7-year-old, I’d have gone with the ‘pull my finger’ gag, but Kabilla Phrom’s version gave Thammabal 7 days to ponder the riddle as well as his fate whereas mine would have been over with the first fart. But then Thammabal would have had a good laugh instead of spending 6 days trying to figure out what the answer to the riddle was. Or even what it meant. Fortunately for him, while lying in despair under a palm tree, he overheard a male and female eagle talking, quite joyful that they would soon be feasting on the body of a little boy who would not be able to solve a god’s riddle. Said eagles were having such a cackling good time they didn’t notice Thammabal, and inadvertently supplied the answer to the riddle.

So the next Day when Kabilla Phrom came for his head, Thammabal repeated what he’d heard the birds say: In the morning, a person’s aura appeared on his face, so he washes it. At noon, it was at his chest; so, he’d wear perfume there. And at night, his aura moved to his feet; that was why he would bathe them. Go ahead, go back and read the riddle. It, and the answer still make no sense. But then neither does repeating out loud what you thought you heard two eagles talking about. But water, of sorts, did finally enter the picture so I guess the legend does in fact have something to do with today’s Songkran festivities after all. I’d go back and edit out the part where I said it doesn’t, but then it’s not like I’m gonna lose my head over failing to do so.

Kabilla Phrom, of course, wasn’t as lucky. Not realizing as most sexpats do that there is no good reason to hold to the promises you make to a younger man, Kabilla Phrom beheaded himself instead. Which sounds like it should be the end of the tale. And it was for Kabilla Phrom. For his head, not so much.

The problem with dead god body parts is that they tend to refuse to act as normal dead body parts do. And I speak from experience. Kabilla Phrom’s head had a bit of mojo of its own. To wit: if it should touch the ground, the earth would catch fire; if it should be left in the air, there would be no rain; and, if it should be dropped into the sea, the sea would dry up. Now if this legend was from North Korea his head would have been served for dinner and the local populace would have finally had some meat other than dog to eat. End of story. But it’s a Thai tale, so it’s time to bring in some nubile young women. Even if they are horrendously ugly.

Kabilla Phrom, conveniently, had seven daughters. They placed his head on a platter and then after parading around with it, hid it in a mountain cave high up in the abode of the gods. Now, once every 365 days each daughter takes a turn leading a parade across the sky with Kabilla Phrom’s head as the main float; which means they all spend eternity serving the man in their life – even if it is just his head – as all women are, appropriately, destined to do. And if women who know their rightful place in society isn’t a good enough reason for a holiday, I don’t know what is.

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