The God of Death Sells Paint

I love this TV ad, and what it implies about how a culture can relate to its gods -- almost intimately, as if they were close relatives:

Yamraj, the God of Death, is a fat, bare-chested man with a big black moustache, riding a black buffalo. He wears a gilded crown and carries a gilded mace. He rides up to a householder , and tells him that it’s time to go. Desperate, the man begs, "I’ve just had my house painted. Please wait, and take me only when the house needs re-painting." Yamraj grants this boon. He sits astride his buffalo in front of the house for years, fuming with impatience. The householder’s son grows up and marries, and comes outside for Yamraj’s blessing and a group photo. Yamraj’s wife screams on the cell-phone: "Are you coming home or not?!" Furious, Yamraj calls out, "Rain!" and it rains, but the paint is not harmed. He calls out, "Heat!" and there is strong sunlight, but the paint is not harmed. The householder’s grandchild comes out to play, calling cheerfully, "Hello, Uncle!" Yamraj in despair asks him, "What paint is this, anyway?" The child says, "Nerolac!" Yamraj shouts, "Nerolac!" and a can of paint falls into his hands. He grimaces horribly at it. Fadeout.

There's a storyboard for this ad here.