Lanterns in the Wind
Once upon a time, in the small picturesque village of Malliswari, nestled alongside a swift flowing river and surrounded by perennially lush green hills, lived a skilled Lantern Maker, old and wise, Srijan. The village was known for its annual Lantern Festival, where the skies would glow with the glimmers of thousands of lanterns, illuminating the village with an enchanting radiant warmth.
All lanterns for the festival were crafted by the village's beloved lantern maker Srijan. His expertise was evident in every curve and tint of the lanterns and his craft marked each festival night, making it more beautiful than the last.
However, this is not the story of Srijan, but of his little grandson, Arijit, who was in awe of the magical spectacle year after year and of Srijan's craft. Arijit grew up watching his grandfather cut, glue, paint and light their family heritage in the form of lanterns.
One year, before the approaching festival, Srijan fell ill, unable to fulfill the village's enthusiastic demand for lanterns. Arijit, only just a boy of 12, decided he would help his grandfather. He had watched Srijan work for years and felt sure he could carry on the work himself.
The villagers were skeptical of the young boy's claim to handle such a great responsibility, but Srijan trusted his grandson and gave him his blessing, allowing Arijit to use his tools and materials. Arijit worked day and night, his young hands diligently shaping, decorating, and crafting. His small hands, though lacking the steadiness of the old master’s, possessed a unique artistic gusto of their own.
Despite his best efforts, his lanterns were not as polished as Srijan's. Yet, there was an inexplicable charm about them - they were a blend of homely and celestial, each lantern boasting its unique charm and personality. When the festival night came, Arijit launched his lanterns into the starry sky and they floated away, adding splashes of varied color to the dark canvas above.
Yet disaster struck. A strong gust of wind picked up that night, causing most of the lanterns to tilt and fall, their flames extinguishing prematurely. Seeing their fallen hopes scattered around, the villagers gasped and murmured among themselves, their forecast about the young boy's failure coming to fruition.
Arijit felt stung, tears welled up in his eyes as he helplessly saw his weeks of effort crumble before his eyes. But then, his grandpa watching silently till then, smiled and pointed up. Looking up into the night sky, Arijit saw, several of his lanterns managed to hold their flames alive, twinkling in the gusty wind. With the absence of other lanterns, these survivors shone brighter, making the sight more magical than ever.
The villagers gaped in awe as they realized their mistake. They learned that the efforts of a young boy, though unpolished, were resilient and possessed a different kind of magic. Arijit, with tears in his eyes, smiled a smile of joy and success. He learned that even under turbulent winds, a strong flame could still swallow the darkness and ignite hopes.
From then on, Arijit continued making the lanterns for the village's annual festival, with each passing year his skills honing, and the number of lanterns surviving the gusty winds increasing. The village festival now became a testament not only to beautiful lanterns but also to their resilience, their ability to burn bright amid the strong winds, a symbol of hope and perseverance for the people of Malliswari.
The entire landscape thus bore witness to Arijit’s transformation into a master craftsman. The tale of the boy who turned disaster into a spectacle of resilience and hope would be told and retold for generations thereafter, a legend crystallized within the whispering winds and the heart of the grand Lantern Festival of Malliswari.