prostho 🦷

Lanka was made of gold. Ayodhya celebrated with clay lamps. Think about that this Diwali. Ravana had everything the world admires. A city of gold. Ten heads, the epic's way of saying he knew more than anyone around him. Scholar. Musician. Devotee of Shiva. He still lost. He didn't lose to a bigger army. He lost to a man in exile, walking barefoot, with an army of monkeys and bears. Brilliance without restraint destroys the one who owns it. Now look at the other side. Rama lost his kingdom overnight. No argument. No bitterness. He walked into the forest on the very day he was meant to be crowned, and he walked out smiling. Most of us can't let go of a small disappointment that gracefully. Bharata was handed the throne. He refused to sit on it. He placed Rama's sandals there and served Ayodhya for 14 years in his brother's name. Love that asks for nothing in return. Duty without ownership. Hanuman could leap across an ocean. He didn't know it. Jambavan had to remind him. So many people around us are Hanuman before Jambavan spoke. Sometimes the greatest gift you can give someone is to tell them you can do this at the right moment. The bridge to Lanka wasn't built in one heroic act. It was stone after stone. Monkeys, bears and, as the old story goes, a little squirrel rolling in sand to do its part. Rama stroked its back in gratitude. No effort is too small when the cause is right. Here's the part we forget. Ayodhya didn't light lamps when Ravana fell. It lit them when Rama came home. Diwali isn't a victory celebration. It's a homecoming. Fourteen years of forest, loss and war, and he returned with his heart intact. The same man who left. That is the real triumph. Everything else is Lanka. So this Diwali, as the lamps glow .. Ask what you're chasing. Gold or light. 
Ask who's been quietly carrying your sandals. Thank them. Ask who needs a Jambavan. Be one. Ask if you're still the person who left home. Light the diya. Then live like one. Small. Steady. Burning for others. Happy Diwali. 🪔