Diwali

The Eternal Light of Diwali

In the heart of Bharat’s endless skies,
Where the river of time in gold light lies,
There blooms a night with a thousand suns —
The festival of lights, where darkness runs.

The winds hum softly through scented fields,
As earth to heaven her fragrance yields.
From every home, from every heart,
Arises joy — the sacred art.

It is Diwali, the night divine,
When lamps of love and faith align.
Where Rama returns from forest far,
Guided home by the shining star.

The roads of Ayodhya gleam like gold,
Stories of valor and virtue retold.
Sita beside him, gentle and pure,
Her smile of peace — serene and sure.

Lakshman walks with steady pride,
The faithful brother, Rama’s guide.
His bow once spoke with thunder’s might,
But now he glows in softer light.

From distant woods where demons fell,
Echoes the story the sages tell:
Of Lanka’s towers and battles vast,
Of evil conquered, shadows cast.

Ravana, fierce and proud in flame,
His ten heads roared Rama’s name.
Yet in his fall, the truth was born —
That light must rise when night is torn.

Hanuman, the wind-borne son of grace,
Still dances through the moonlit space.
His heart, a temple burning bright,
Chants “Jai Shri Ram!” in endless light.

He leapt across the sapphire sea,
To serve his Lord eternally.
In every flame, his image glows —
In every prayer, his valor flows.

Ayodhya wakes with bells and drums,
The King of Dharma homeward comes.
Women draw rangoli bright,
With petals soft and lamps of light.

Children laugh and candles bloom,
Chasing away the age-old gloom.
The streets hum hymns, the night is wide,
As joy and duty now collide.

Goddess Lakshmi, of wealth and grace,
Arrives with lotus in her face.
Her golden eyes, like dawn’s embrace,
Bless every home, each sacred space.

Beside her stands Lord Ganesha, kind,
Remover of obstacles, calm of mind.
With his gentle trunk and wisdom vast,
He guards the present, future, and past.

Together they glide through silver flame,
Granting fortune in Rama’s name.
Incense rises, prayers ascend,
As light and laughter softly blend.

From clay to sky, from sound to soul,
Each diya burns to make us whole.
The flickering lamps — a thousand eyes,
Reflect the stars of paradise.

In the palace, Rama bows to all,
To sages, elders, hearts enthralled.
Not as a king with crown or sword,
But as a servant of his Lord.

Sita lights the sacred flame,
Her whisper breathes the holy name.
“May every heart be free from pain,
May peace and truth forever reign.”

Lakshman stands with hands held high,
A silent vow beneath the sky.
To guard the realm, to keep the peace,
Till the final breath gives soul release.

Hanuman kneels, his eyes alight,
With tears that glow in golden night.
“Where Rama lives, there lives my heart —
No force of death can tear apart.”

The sky explodes with fire’s bloom,
A rainbow born from midnight’s womb.
The Ganga mirrors every hue,
The stars themselves seem born anew.

From every temple bells resound,
Their echoes dance from town to town.
Priests chant mantras, maidens sing,
“Welcome home, our righteous King!”

Even the forests whisper low,
“The exile ends, the lights shall glow.”
The deer and peacocks twirl in glee,
Under the banyan, beside the tree.

Far beyond the mortal land,
Devas watch with folded hand.
Indra smiles, and Agni’s flame,
Rises higher in Rama’s name.

The gods themselves in heaven’s height,
Adorn their halls with mortal light.
For even they must bow tonight,
To human hearts that conquer night.

And in the hush before the dawn,
When all the stars are nearly gone,
A golden calm, serene and deep,
Embraces Earth in gentle sleep.

The people dream of days anew,
Of lives made kind, of hearts made true.
Of evil banished, truth restored,
Of justice throned, of peace adored.

But still the lamps in silence gleam,
Beyond the world, beyond the dream.
For every flame, in truth, conveys
The soul of faith through endless days.

Through centuries, through mortal change,
The meaning still does not estrange.
Diwali shines where hearts forgive,
And darkness dies when virtues live.

In every home, the story grows,
Through children’s songs and candle glows.
Rama’s courage, Sita’s grace,
Lakshman’s vow, Hanuman’s embrace.

Lakshmi’s blessing, Ganesha’s smile,
Keep the world pure all the while.
Even Ravana’s fall remains,
A lesson deep in mortal veins.

That pride may rise, but must descend,
And truth alone prevails at end.
That fire may burn, but light shall heal,
That gods may test what hearts reveal.

And so, each year the fires are lit,
The gods in mortal homes shall sit.
Each diya whispers soft and low,
“Let kindness rule, let wisdom grow.”

The city sleeps, yet souls awake,
In dreams of love, for Dharma’s sake.
From every lamp, a blessing streams —
A prayer, a hope, a thousand dreams.

So let your heart be like that flame,
Unshaken by the wind or shame.
Let every thought, each breath, each art,
Be the Diya within your heart.

When shadows come, and tempests roll,
Light your soul — recall the goal.
That good shall triumph, truth shall rise,
As Rama’s smile lights human skies.

Thus ends the song of Diwali bright,
The dance of souls, the birth of light.
In every heart, forever stay,
The golden dawn of Rama’s day.