Lord Krishna's footwear

The supreme lord Krishna, of Gujarat, had zillions of admirers, among men and cattle. His magnetism and divine charm was, to put it mildly, godly. Over a period of time, his admirers grew into such large numbers that the entire Harappan city of Dwaraka sank into the sea, leaving behind seeds of imagination that was fostered into monstrous myths by multitudes of sastrigals who got such a fix from narrating these tales that they gave up bathing altogether.
Post-menopausal aunties with a Licence to Kill called PMS, were the bouncers of the Club.
After Lord Krishna retired and moved to the Cayman islands, the admirers club split in two. There were the conservative groups, who had been around since Lord was a wee lad, going after butter like a Mylaporean after a bargain. These guys had their last names changed to Bhattar, to honour Lord K's butter-tooth, and stayed put in the land masses that wasn't submerged. They built mighty temples, and never wore footwear. There was a splinter faction that was driven out and migrated to Zlin, where over a period of several years, their last names corrupted from Bhattars to Bata, and from butter they craved for cheese.
Thousands of years later, these folks from the tribe called Bata, had built a huge shoe business, that flourished like B.O. on a Sastrigal, in India. Bata launched a range of slip-on sandals in memory of Lord K, in the manner in which all aunties depute their kids to paint, Lord K's footprints, hours before initiating Krishna Jayanthi celebrations.
Being a Smart Hindu (as I was a Smartha) I grabbed a pair at INR 349.95.
My wife hates it. Frankly, it's not exactly a stepping stone from my Dr. Scholls, but I am putting up with it like a man (with demi-god looks) in the name of our religion and our ancestors


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