Fourteen years is a long time to wait. In Ayodhya, children who had been babies when Rama left for the forest were now old enough to sweep the courtyards themselves.
Then news arrived: Rama, Sita and Lakshmana were coming home. The whole city began to get ready. People washed the streets, hung green leaves over their doorways and drew bright patterns at their gates.
“They will arrive on the new-moon night,” Charu said to her grandmother. “It is the darkest night of the month. How will they find the way?”
Her grandmother placed a small clay lamp in her hands. “One lamp cannot light a whole road,” she said. “But every home can light one.”
That evening, lamps appeared one after another on doorsteps, walls and rooftops, until the dark road shone like a river of light, and the travellers walked home along it.
Many families remember this homecoming when they light lamps on Diwali. Each lamp is small. Together, they show the way.