The evening sky shimmered with a thousand lamps as the ashram prepared for Diwali. Rows of diyas lined the path to the temple, and the scent of incense floated through the cool air.
Arjun, the young shishya, approached his Guru, who sat beneath a banyan tree, gazing at the glowing horizon. “Gurudev,” Arjun began softly, “we celebrate Diwali to honour light over darkness, truth over falsehood. But when I look at today’s world, I see greed, anger, deceit — and people fighting for attention rather than wisdom. Has darkness grown stronger?”
The Guru smiled gently. “My child, darkness is never strong — it only appears when light forgets to shine.”
Arjun frowned. “But how can we shine when dishonesty often brings reward, and those who speak truth are mocked or ignored?”
The Guru picked up a small diya and lit it. “This flame,” he said, “is fragile, yet it dispels darkness instantly. It does not fight it; it simply exists. You cannot end falsehood by shouting at it, but by living truth.” Arjun listened, his brow furrowed in thought.
“Remember, Arjun,” the Guru continued, “the evils of our age are not new. Humans have faced greed, envy, hatred, and fear in every yuga. Today’s demons do not have ten heads like Ravana — they live in our habits, phones, words, and apathy.”
“Then how do we fight them, Gurudev?”
The Guru’s eyes gleamed with compassion. “With the weapons Diwali teaches us, Shri Rama’s courage to choose dharma when it’s inconvenient. With Shri Krishna’s wisdom, we can act with compassion amidst chaos. With Mata Lakshmi’s grace that rewards sincerity, not show.”
He pointed to the diyas flickering in the distance. “Each lamp you light tonight must remind you to cleanse not just your home, but your conscience. To brighten not just your walls, but your conduct.”
Arjun bowed deeply. “So, Gurudev, the real Diwali is not out there — it begins within?”
The Guru smiled. “Exactly. When you light the lamp of kindness in a cruel world, the lamp of honesty amidst deceit, the lamp of patience amidst anger — then, my child, you become the festival itself.”
The temple bells chimed. The Guru rose, his face serene. “Come, Arjun. Let us light the lamps — and perhaps, the world will borrow some light from us tonight.
And as the first diya caught flame, Arjun whispered, “Shubh Diwali, Gurudev.”
The Guru replied softly, “Happy enlightenment, my child.”
Moral of the Story:
Actual Diwali begins within. The most excellent light is not in lamps or decorations but in the illumination of one’s character. By conquering the inner evils of greed, anger, deceit, and apathy with honesty, compassion, and courage, we become living symbols of the festival — spreading light where there is darkness and hope where there is despair.
Source:
This story has been developed with the assistance of an AI language model. However, its conceptual foundation draws deeply from the timeless moral and philosophical lessons of India’s rich cultural and civilisational heritage. It seeks to reflect the enduring wisdom of this incredible civilisation and the values that continue to illuminate the spirit of our great nation.