The Light of Joy
Diwali, the festival of lights. Around this time all the towns and streets are decked up with lights and decorations. This is also the time when the cities are bustling with both tourists and locals. It is during this time when Ravi's father's income is maximum. Ravi has been eagerly waiting for Diwali. Last year he couldn't enjoy the fireworks as his father didn't have enough money to splurge.
'Ravi, if the business is good this time, I will definitely buy you a phooljhari' , his father promised him. Like usual, Ravi's father set his shop in the weekly market. Twentyfive, fifty, hundred... the diyas sold like hot cakes. Ravi could see his prospects of lighting a firecracker very soon. 'This is great son! If everyday turns out like this, I will be able to buy you new clothes too'. But Ravi didn't want clothes, he just wanted a phooljhari. But unfortunately, Ravi's father's business hit a slump. The cheap chinese lights had taken the place of diyas. Now, people only bought diyas in small numbers. Ravi knew that his father was in crisis. He no more thought about his pleasure. 'If things remain like this, we will have problems in future. A stock of ten thousand diyas will be wasted' his father mumbled to his mother. Ravi had to do something, he didn't want to see his family struggle during festival time. That night he couldn't sleep at all. He was constantly thinking for a solution. 'What can I do?' thought the mere twelve year old.
The next day he decided to visit the areas where the richer people lived. 'Chinese lights can't reach
everywhere, there has to be someplace which still lights diyas only' he thought. Earlier, when there were no electric lights, diyas were only lit in the houses. Ravi came across a huge bunglow. It wasn't decorated with any lights, infact the house looked shabby and unkept. He decided to check if anybody lived in it. He peeped through the windows. The windows had been caked with dust. Ravi turned back and saw an old man standing in front of him. For a second, his heart skipped a beat. The man was quite scary looking, droopy eyes, skinny frame. 'What are you doing, you filthy rat!' he shrieked.
'I am just looking' said Ravi innocently. 'You are looking if you could steal anything?! You thief, you filthy little thief!' he lunged forward to catch up him but Ravi dodged. 'No stealing! No, I have come to sell my diyas' he said in his defence.
'Diyas? But why diyas?' a sudden calmness in the man's voice. 'Yes, it is Diwali season and your house looked so barren. I thought you would want to buy some' Ravi said timidly.
'Diwali! Oh lord! Time passes so quickly...how many do you have?' he asked Ravi
'How many do you want?'
'Son, I will buy every last of your diya' announced the old man. Ravi was thrilled to hear the old man, he rushed his home and immediately asked his father to load their diyas. 'What if he doesn't buy them son?' his father asked. 'What if he does' said Ravi optimistically.
And the old man did, he was so delighted to see all the diyas and bought every single of them. He also wanted someone to light them for him on Diwali and Ravi reached out for that help, he also some of his house cleaning. Theb old man paid him extra money for doing that. Apparently, the old-man was once a family man. He lost his daughter and wife in an accident. After them gone, nobody in that house did the lighting of diyas. At last, Ravi could buy his phooljhari for himself and the old man. And this time, he bought it from his own money. The old man's residence illuminated with the vibrant lights. Ravi not only enjoyed his Diwali but made the day special for the old man.
'Ravi, if the business is good this time, I will definitely buy you a phooljhari' , his father promised him. Like usual, Ravi's father set his shop in the weekly market. Twentyfive, fifty, hundred... the diyas sold like hot cakes. Ravi could see his prospects of lighting a firecracker very soon. 'This is great son! If everyday turns out like this, I will be able to buy you new clothes too'. But Ravi didn't want clothes, he just wanted a phooljhari. But unfortunately, Ravi's father's business hit a slump. The cheap chinese lights had taken the place of diyas. Now, people only bought diyas in small numbers. Ravi knew that his father was in crisis. He no more thought about his pleasure. 'If things remain like this, we will have problems in future. A stock of ten thousand diyas will be wasted' his father mumbled to his mother. Ravi had to do something, he didn't want to see his family struggle during festival time. That night he couldn't sleep at all. He was constantly thinking for a solution. 'What can I do?' thought the mere twelve year old.
The next day he decided to visit the areas where the richer people lived. 'Chinese lights can't reach
everywhere, there has to be someplace which still lights diyas only' he thought. Earlier, when there were no electric lights, diyas were only lit in the houses. Ravi came across a huge bunglow. It wasn't decorated with any lights, infact the house looked shabby and unkept. He decided to check if anybody lived in it. He peeped through the windows. The windows had been caked with dust. Ravi turned back and saw an old man standing in front of him. For a second, his heart skipped a beat. The man was quite scary looking, droopy eyes, skinny frame. 'What are you doing, you filthy rat!' he shrieked.'I am just looking' said Ravi innocently. 'You are looking if you could steal anything?! You thief, you filthy little thief!' he lunged forward to catch up him but Ravi dodged. 'No stealing! No, I have come to sell my diyas' he said in his defence.
'Diyas? But why diyas?' a sudden calmness in the man's voice. 'Yes, it is Diwali season and your house looked so barren. I thought you would want to buy some' Ravi said timidly.
'Diwali! Oh lord! Time passes so quickly...how many do you have?' he asked Ravi
'How many do you want?'
'Son, I will buy every last of your diya' announced the old man. Ravi was thrilled to hear the old man, he rushed his home and immediately asked his father to load their diyas. 'What if he doesn't buy them son?' his father asked. 'What if he does' said Ravi optimistically.
And the old man did, he was so delighted to see all the diyas and bought every single of them. He also wanted someone to light them for him on Diwali and Ravi reached out for that help, he also some of his house cleaning. Theb old man paid him extra money for doing that. Apparently, the old-man was once a family man. He lost his daughter and wife in an accident. After them gone, nobody in that house did the lighting of diyas. At last, Ravi could buy his phooljhari for himself and the old man. And this time, he bought it from his own money. The old man's residence illuminated with the vibrant lights. Ravi not only enjoyed his Diwali but made the day special for the old man.
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