On the 5th of April, during the 21 day lockdown, the prime minister of India came on tv to ask everyone to step out on their balconies and light a lamp or a candle at 9pm for 9 minutes to dispel the darkness that is Covid. That night, it was like the festival of lights. There were lamps, candles, laser lights and yes, fireworks too. The skies that had just turned a nice shade of blue during the day with everyone staying at home and starry at nights, looked smoggy the next day. Here’s a short poem/story that rose from it.

Also a fairytale.

The day after the fireworks the stars disappeared.

And the moon was back in solitary.

The moon being the moon and quite the splendorous one didn’t mind one bit.

The stars with their shy stammering shimmer were really quite unnecessary.

The moon had all the silver the world needed. Or so it thought.

The world meanwhile came out in their balconies and seeing the stars were gone, was inconsolable.

What had the moon done with the stars?

They forgot they had blasted the sky with fireworks.

It cast chilling looks at the arrogant but loyal, forever shining moon.

The moon, bewildered, glared back. Its craters grew enormous.

Imperfections, when unloved, tend to do that.

Disheartened, the moon began to withdraw.

Instinctively, the clouds gathered, as if saying, we got you.

You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

Behind them, the stars too echoed. You’re not alone.

And the moon knew what it should have known all along.

It shone only because it loved and was loved.

It was a light that came from within

The clouds the moon and the stars came together in that instant and the world ceased to exist.