Story 4: The Lamp That Stayed On
In a small village in India, where nights were wrapped in cricket sounds and warm air, lived a boy named Arjun.
Arjun was afraid of the dark.
Not the kind of dark with stars—
but the kind where corners grew quiet and shadows felt awake.
Every night, when the lights went out, Arjun pulled his blanket close and waited for sleep to find him.
But sleep was slow.
One evening, the power went off earlier than usual. The house grew quiet. Outside, the village settled into night.
Arjun’s heart beat faster.
Just then, a soft glow appeared near the doorway.
It was his grandfather.
He placed a small oil lamp on the floor. The flame was tiny, but steady. It did not hurry. It did not flicker wildly.
Grandfather sat beside Arjun.
“This lamp has a job,” he said gently.
Arjun watched the flame.
“It stays awake so others can rest.”
The shadows softened.
Grandfather did not tell a long story.
He did not explain the dark.
He simply stayed.
The lamp stayed too.
Its light touched the walls.
The room felt smaller.
The dark felt farther away.
Arjun’s breathing slowed.
When he opened his eyes again, the night was quiet. The lamp still glowed. His grandfather sat nearby, eyes closed, peaceful.
Arjun smiled.
From that night on, whenever darkness felt heavy, Arjun remembered the lamp.
Not because it was bright—
but because it stayed.
And sometimes, that is all the light we need.
🌱 A Soft Thought for Sleep
Courage doesn’t always shine loudly.
Sometimes, it stays quietly beside you.
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