“Everything that dazzles, disturbs, or delights—shall pass. Cling not to the moment, but to the meaning.”Story: Yeh Bhi Nahin Rahega – The Clay Lamp and the Neon LightIn a quiet village nestled between two rivers, an old potter named Dinu lived alone. His hands, once firm and swift, now trembled slightly as he shaped clay. Yet every evening, he lit a small clay lamp outside his hut—its flicker a gentle reminder of warmth, tradition, and time.

One day, a young man from the city arrived, carrying a sleek neon lamp. “Uncle,” he said, “this lamp never dies, never flickers. It’s modern, efficient. Why cling to that fragile diya?”

Dinu smiled, placing the clay lamp beside the neon glow. “This diya may fade, but it carries stories. It was lit when my son was born, when my wife passed, and when the monsoon first kissed our fields. It reminds me that light is not just brightness—it’s memory.”

The young man scoffed. “But memories don’t power the future.”

Weeks passed. The neon lamp shone relentlessly, but the villagers still gathered around Dinu’s diya. They shared tales, sang old songs, and watched the flame dance with the wind. One stormy night, the neon lamp short-circuited. The village plunged into darkness—except for Dinu’s diya, protected in a clay alcove, glowing softly.

The young man returned, humbled. “I thought permanence was power. But your flickering flame held the village together.”

Dinu nodded. “Yeh bhi nahin rahega—this too shall pass. But what we choose to light, even briefly, can guide others long after the flame is gone.”

Moral (End): “True light is not in what lasts, but in what lingers—in hearts, in stories, in silence.”