That morning, Arjun had said to his mother, "Maa, today is Dev Deepawali. Let's go to the ghat. My heart doesn't feel at peace until I offer the diyas."His mother had read the quiet restlessness hidden in his eyes perfectly.
Bittu added, his voice hesitant yet laced with a fragile new hope, "Yes, Maa, let's go. Who knows, we might meet Kavya there too."
Adjusting the pleats of her sari, his mother replied, "Very well. I have prepared everything. You have to help me carry it all. Hurry now—the evening will descend soon."
She lifted the small wooden basket and placed it in Bittu's hands."Come, let's leave. We'll finish the rest of the preparations at the ghat itself."
Bittu took the basket. The evening breeze was already shifting hues—turning the sky into soft shades of orange melting into pale blue. The narrow lane leading to the Ganges had begun to fill with sound: the laughter of children, the calls of devotees, the resonant ringing of temple bells, and the quiet heartbeat of a new, unspoken hope.
Mother and son walked slowly toward the ghat. Every few steps, Bittu would glance back over his shoulder, as though expecting someone to be standing just around the corner, half-hidden behind a pillar or a wall.
By the time they reached the riverbank, evening had fully settled. Rows of lamps were already glowing along the edge of the Ganga (Bhagirathi). The floating diyas drew golden streaks across the dark water, turning the river into a shimmering pathway to the heavens.
Bittu's eyes scanned every face in the growing crowd, searching desperately for Kavya."We should live our lives without causing pain to others," he thought. "Only then can we find true happiness, peace, and contentment—free from any sense of guilt."
Meanwhile, Kavya too was struggling to understand her own heart. She knew the feelings she harboured for Arjun were genuine and not easily extinguished.
Every night, she would sit by the window, phone in hand, typing messages only to delete them moments later."Arjun, I need to talk to you…"Delete."You are a good person, Arjun, but you haven't treated me well."Delete again.
Finally, she would press "Delete for Everyone" and erase everything.
Arjun often noticed the typing… deleting… typing… deleting… on his screen late at night, yet he never messaged her. After all, he had been the one to say, "I need some space."
Her silence both stung him and, strangely, brought him a peculiar comfort. It seemed Kavya still wanted to say something. She was fighting her own mind and heart, yet she had not given up.
For Arjun, it was enough to know that the storms had not diminished Kavya. She remained the same fearless, honest soul she had always been—still sincere in her relationships, without even a trace of bitterness toward him.
All the way to the ghat, Arjun's feet seemed to pull him toward the exact spot where, for the last four years, he had lit diyas with Kavya by his side.
Upon reaching the riverbank, he sat quietly on a stone. His mother began arranging the diyas in the brass plate, carefully placing wicks and pouring oil. Twilight was about to give way to deeper dusk.
People were gradually gathering. Little children laughed with delight. Somewhere, lamps had already been set afloat. Boatmen readied their ferries to row into the middle of the river. Yet to Arjun, it felt as if all the lights in the world could not pierce the darkness within him. His heart longed to hear one familiar footstep, one cherished voice.
Today, he too was restless, scanning the crowd for Kavya. Months of suppressed emotions had finally breached their dam. His heart, overflowing with feeling, searched for her in every face, as though his consciousness was slowly awakening from a long slumber.The old Arjun—the one who had loved Kavya with all his heart—was coming back to life.
When he lit the diya, its flame flickered in the breeze, trembling just like his own heart. He remembered how Kavya would always cup her hand around the flame and say, "It isn't always easy to protect this light from the wind, Arjun. But if we manage to save it, no matter how dark the night, we will always have its glow."Tonight, that trembling flame reminded him painfully of her voice.
Gazing into the deep waters, a few lines suddenly surfaced in his mind:
"I have come to know
that love, in every form,
is the most beautiful.
In acceptance,
and even in rejection,
love remains—
perhaps that is why it is beautiful,
or perhaps beauty exists
because love does.
It is love that makes this world beautiful."
"If there were no darkness, light would have no meaning. The true worth of love's light is understood only when we lose it through our own foolishness."
Love was taking shape in words, and involuntarily, his thoughts kept returning to Kavya. Just then, his mother placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, "Bittu, I've prepared the diyas with wicks and oil. Come, let's light them."
His reverie broke. He returned to the present, having been lost in his thoughts until that moment.
Suddenly, a familiar voice, sweet as honey, melted into his ears."Arjun…?"
He turned his head slowly toward the sound. That soft, tender voice seemed to touch his heartbeat directly. There, walking toward him with a gentle smile, was Kavya. She carried a plate of diyas in her hands, adjusting her dupatta against the light chill as she approached. For a moment, time itself stood still.
Kavya paused a few steps away when she noticed Arjun's mother beside him. Between them stood months of pain, countless unsaid words, and a multitude of unfinished moments.
His mother smiled warmly and said, "Come, child. Come here, sit with us. Look, Bittu has been searching for you all this while."
Kavya bent down and touched her mother-in-law's feet in reverence. In response, her mother-in-law instantly pulled her into a warm embrace.
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