The Dilemma of Hemant

Hemant slowly entered the house, silently, without anyone's notice. His mother, Sheetal, was glued to the television, watching the daily soap - the only thing that seemed to warm her rather ice-cold demeanour. His elder sister Varsha was fiercely toying with her gaming station. She was wild and disobedient, mostly unpredictable, going about with a mind of her own. His grandfather Prakhar, was seated at the balcony, with his perennially angry red eyes. He always carried himself with an elevated temper, which even mellowed Varsha out sometimes. The only member missing now was Sharad, Hemant's father, whose presence always brought a charm and a sense of belonging. But he was at the office, much to Hemant's disliking, as he longed for the bright smile of his father as soon as he entered home. Hemant tiptoed to the terrace without bothering anyone, to the only person who brought peace and comfort in his life. Standing at the corner of the terrace, looking out in the distance, was his grandmother, Falguni. Her presence was the only grace in Hemant's rather non-happening life. She was a soothing breeze for him, always loving and caring. 

Hemant ran towards her and hugged her tightly. "Dadi, who has given my name Hemant?" his big, innocent eyes filled with curiosity. " Of course I did, nanhe." Falguni replied in amusement while playing with his messy hair. " Why 'Hemant', out of so many names? It's a season, hardly noticed by anyone, just like me." Falguni smiled and nodded," Nanhe, who told you no one notices Hemant? It is the season that combines sweetness (Madhur), earth (Prithvi), and water (Apa); it is a season considered the healthiest for the body, as this time of year, our body becomes the strongest, with our digestive system functioning at its best."

" I know I am strong, Dadi, every day I beat Rangan and Amrit in our fist-fights." Hemant boasted with prideful eyes. 

Falguni turned to him with dazzling laughter. "Then why is my nanha Hemant upset?" " I am not upset; it just feels like I am not seen, or my presence hardly matters to anyone." " Oh, little one, your presence matters to everyone; they just don't show because you don't carry yourself loudly, you just go along with grace, just like the season Hemant."

" And how is that?" asked the little boy. " Hemant is the time when we celebrate Diwali - the festival of lights and the biggest festival in India. You also bring light and happiness with your presence nanhe. Never think of yourself as less than anyone; never dim your light, your strength. Remember, you are Hemant, the season that merges Sharad's grandeaur and Sheetal's coldness, you are the season that allows Varsha to flow and the summer's Prakhar temperament to burst, and you are the one that enables Falguni to bloom like the flowers in spring, with your silent but powerful presence." 

The little Hemant, glad with his grandmother's vivid explanation, jumped with joy and smiled - his bright teeth sparkling like shiny stars, and his twinkling eyes reflecting happiness, just like the flame of Diwali diyas. 

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