Diwali in Grandma Jyoti’s house was always grand—sweets in silver boxes, lanterns in every window, and the entire rooftop covered in tiny, glowing diyas.
But she always told the same strange tale.
“On Diwali night,” she’d say, “if you look up from the rooftop with a pure heart, you’ll see the stars come down… and dance.”
Her grandson Vihaan wanted to believe, but stars don’t dance—do they?
One year, Grandma grew too tired to climb the stairs. So Vihaan lit all the diyas for her.
Then he looked up… and the stars winked.
Suddenly, the night sky swirled. Threads of silver light twirled down and filled the rooftop. Stars in sarees danced and spun, music echoing like temple bells in the air.
Vihaan stared in awe.
One star, glowing soft gold, whispered, “Your kindness brought us down.”
When the dance ended, Vihaan ran to Grandma and told her everything.
She smiled. “You saw them… because this year, you were the light.”
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