The Missing Glow

Piya Sharma stood on the balcony, squinting at the dazzle of fireworks lighting the Diwali sky. She loved the festival of lights, the vibrant colors, and the warmth of family gatherings. But there was a tickle of unease this year. It was subtle but there. Just like how a day ago, her favorite blue earthen diya vanished. Her brother Arjun joined her, holding a steel tiffin filled with warm gulab jamun. "Piya, you okay?" "Yeah, just... something's been bothering me," she admitted, scrunching up her nose. "Is it about the diya? You've been talking about it non-stop." "Well, Arjun, not just that. Remember the gift box Nani gave us last Diwali? Gone. Just like the diya." Arjun nodded, contemplating the peculiarity. "Maybe things are being misplaced with all the chaos." "Or," she mused, "maybe there’s someone hiding something." They both took a moment, enjoying the sweet syrupy gulab jamun while the world around them cracked with rhythms of distant crackers and laughter. The festive air was vibrant, tingling with joy, masking the mystery that lurked inside their home. --- Two days passed, and the missing objects turned into an odd collection. A couple of silver spoons, an anklet belonging to Piya's mother, and now Arjun’s favorite cricket ball. "It's settled," declared Piya, her determination radiating as bright as the Diwali lights. "We’re solving this." That evening, as family members got busy lighting diyas, Piya and Arjun sidled to each family member, engaging them in casual conversation. Attempting to coax out any information about the missing items became their mission. But no one seemed to know anything—until they approached their grandfather. He smiled, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Lost your bright little diya, have you?" he chuckled. "You'll find what you seek... where the heart speaks." While initially perplexed by his words, the clue resonated with Piya. "The storeroom," she whispered to Arjun. --- Later that night, Arjun and Piya slunk into the storeroom, hesitant yet excited. Among dusty memorabilia and forgotten relics, a humble box waited. Inside, Piya found the diya, alongside the other missing items. Her heart thudded with a mix of anger and confusion. Suddenly, a soft shuffle alerted them; their little cousin Neel appeared, his head down, remorseful. "I didn’t mean to," Neel sniffled, tears threatening to overflow. "I wanted to save them... for when everyone argues." The weight of their young cousin’s innocence hit Piya hard. Neel, the youngest at nine, had witnessed small family rifts late at night and feared losing these moments as their bonds strained. He sought solace in comforting objects. Piya knelt beside him, pulling him into a hug. "Hey, those were just small fights, Neel. Families bicker, but we always come together. Just like this festival, you know?" Arjun ruffled Neel's hair, "These items, they mean a lot to everyone. Maybe we should find another way to keep the peace." Nevertheless, the misunderstanding was resolved with laughter, sweet promises of family games, and a whispering wind of affection blowing through their home. --- Diwali night culminated in a grand gathering as loved ones exchanged hugged and giggles. These members had bickered, laughed, and solved a mystery together, discovering that the lights illuminating their lives extended beyond simple decorations. Piya leaned back, savoring the warmth— both of the gulab jamun and her family’s love for togetherness and forgiveness.