Lost Love on Diwali: Hope Hidden in the Flame of a Diya
Diwali – the festival of lights, a celebration of joy, and an unspoken promise of homecoming. But for the Sharma family, for the past five years, Diwali has been accompanied by an emptiness, a pang, and the memory of a lost love.
This is the story of Mr. Ramnath Sharma, his wife Savitri, and their only son, Rohan.
Five years ago, it was Diwali night. The house was ablaze with lamps, the courtyard was decorated with rangoli, and the aroma of sweets lingered in the air. But that night, a father-son argument over a trivial matter dimmed all the light in the house.
Rohan, who wanted to become a talented musician, had asked his father for permission to go to Mumbai. Ramnath, a retired government officer, wanted his son to have a secure job.
“Is this singing and playing a life?” he had said angrily. “No one in our family has ever done this.”
“But Papa, this is my dream,” Rohan said.
“No more dreams! If you want to live in this house, you have to do what I say,” Ramnathji declared his final decision.
That night, in the midst of a misunderstanding and a clash between two generations, Rohan quietly picked up his guitar and left the house. He didn’t even look back.
That Diwali, the Sharma family had lost their love.
Five years had passed. Ramnathji and Savitriji were old and alone. Their large house felt empty every Diwali. Savitriji would make Rohan’s favorite laddus every year, hoping that perhaps this time her son would return. But Ramnathji, consumed by his ego and anger, never even called his son. He pretended to be tough on the outside, but deep inside, he was also broken.
Another character in this story is Rohan’s childhood friend, Sameer. Sameer was the only source of news about Rohan.
This year, Diwali came again. As usual, Savitri ji decorated the puja thali, made laddus, and lit a large lamp at the door. “This is the lamp of hope,” she said every year.
In the evening, Sameer came to their house.
“Hello, Aunty. Where is Uncle?”
“He must be inside, in his room,” Savitri ji said with a sigh. “After that night, he’s stopped celebrating Diwali.”
Samir went to Ramnath ji’s room. He was silently looking out the window, his eyes empty.
“Uncle,” Sameer said softly. “Rohan… he’s fine. He’s now a well-known music composer.”
Ramnath ji didn’t say anything, but Sameer noticed his hands trembling slightly.
“He still misses you a lot, Uncle,” Sameer said. “But he’s afraid. He thinks you’ll never forgive him.”
“Forgive?” Ramnathji said in a low voice. “It was my fault. I couldn’t be a good father. I was so blinded by my ego that I couldn’t even dream of my son.”
It was a father’s remorse, a burden that had been weighing on his heart for five years.
That very night, when the entire city was awash in fireworks and lights, there was a sound at the door of Sharmaji’s house.
Savitriji opened the door. There stood a young man, with a grown beard and an unexplained hesitation in his eyes. It was Rohan.
“Mom…” was all he could say.
Savitriji, crying, embraced her son.
Ramnathji, who had come out after hearing the sound, stood rooted to the spot. Five years… five long years. Their son stood before them.
Both had tears in their eyes, but neither could speak. The wall of years of pride and misunderstanding still stood between them.
Just then, Rohan took out his guitar. He closed his eyes and began to play a tune. It wasn’t a film tune. It was a bhajan, the same bhajan his father sang every morning during prayers.
The tune held the pain of years of separation, a longing for home, and an unspoken respect for his father.
As the tune progressed, Ramnath ji’s patience broke. He reached out and hugged his son tightly. The tears between father and son erased the years of distance in an instant.
“Forgive me, son,” Ramnath ji said.
“No, Papa, please forgive me,” Rohan said.
That night, after five years, Diwali was truly celebrated in that house. The flame of Savitri ji’s ‘lamp of hope’ shone brightest today.
This story teaches us that there is no greater wealth than love and family. Ego and misunderstandings can darken our relationships, but they cannot destroy them forever. Sometimes, returning home requires just one step – an apology, or forgiveness.
That Diwali, the Sharma family found their lost love back, and that was the greatest gift for them.
