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Young World
Lanterns for the neighbourhood
PAVITHRA SRINIVASAN
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Akhil’s father thought that craft work was a waste of time. Then, he saw how the neighbourhood was transformed…
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till at it. After everything I said.”Akhil jumped as he heard the cold voice. His chart sheet and cutter, clattered onto the worktable, and he stood up guiltily. “I’m – I’m sorry, Appa. It’s – it’s the half-yearly holidays …”
“So?” His father frowned as he looked at the craftwork and gum bottle. “Is that any reason to waste your time like this? There’re only three months for your annual exams. Wouldn’t hurt you to study.”
Akhil moved despondently to his study desk, picking up his mathematics textbook. Appa waited to see him start, before he walked away. Half an hour later, the door opened again. “I’m studying, Appa,” Akhil began, to be silenced by a whizzing paper arrow. “It’s you,” he grinned at his friend, Shyam.
“I’ve come for your stuff,” Shyam explained. “Your dad’s been going at you again?”
The two had been friends for years, and practically everyone in the neighbourhood knew Akhil’s father’s sentiments about hobbies. Akhil shrugged. “I couldn’t finish the last one,” Akhil said. “Give these to your father, ok?” He gave him the three paper lanterns.
One evening
“Hello Mr Ashok.”
In the swiftly falling twilight, Akhil’s father turned to see a short, bald man by the gate. “Ah, hello Mr. Anthony. Have you come to pick up Shyam?”
“Oh no, I came to see Akhil. To pay him.” And Mr Anthony held out some money.
“Pay Akhil?” Mr. Ashok might disapprove of craftwork, but he had a healthy respect for money. “Er – what for? Did Shyam borrow any money?”
“Not at all. I bought one of his exquisite paper lanterns for the winter you see – many of us in the neighbourhood did – and though Akhil didn’t want money, we decided we’d pay him anyway. Come, I’ll show you.”
Mr. Anthony steered Mr Ashok towards his front door.
Night was deepening. Stars decorated the night sky – and the beautiful lanterns hung in almost every house in the neighbourhood. Exquisitely carved, little slits of light seeped out like a million diamond pieces, throwing light and shadow on the street.
“Such a work of art,” said Mr. Anthony. “I cannot afford expensive decorations but Akhil’s work warms my heart. His talent is amazing. Not to mention the joy he brings to poor people. Did you know that he gave a whole bunch to the orphanage, last week? I would be proud if he were my son.”
That evening, the door to Akhil’s room opened. As Akhil ran to get his textbook, his father came in. “Still not studying, I see.”
“Appa, I …”
“You’d better finish the lantern you owe Shyam, then. Wouldn’t do to keep them waiting.”
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