Rashmi aunty was busy spreading clothes on her terrace while her five-year-old son Dabbu was crying bitterly. Kartik, who was busy with his studies, immediately rushed out of his room. Dabbu was distracted for a brief while but started sobbing again. Kartik did not know how to cheer up the boy.
He thought frantically and remembered the chocolates his father had gifted him last Monday. Luckily, he had kept it safe in the refrigerator. He rushed inside and returned with the chocolate. Dabbu’s sobbing stopped when he noticed the chocolates in Kartik’s hand.
Dabbu started eating the chocolates and Kartik was happy to have calmed the boy down. But once the last crumbs vanished, he started crying again. Kartik was bewildered. Why was Dabbu howling like this?
Just then, Rashmi aunty came rushing down the stairs. “He has been crying since yesterday because he wants a spray gun and colours,” she said.
“So what’s the big deal? How will he play Holi without these?” asked Kartik
Sadly, she replied, “We have to think carefully before we buy anything.” Eight-year-old Kartik couldn’t understand why. But when she lifted Dabbu on to her lap and distracted him, he went back to his studies.
His annual exams were about to begin and Kartik worked hard. Sometimes, he went with his parents to shop for Holi in the evening. Three days before Holi, Kartik went to the market to buy a spray gun and colours. Having had a terrible experience the previous year, he was careful to choose only eco-friendly and natural colours so that he would not harm himself or others. So he chose many different hues and an attractive spray gun.
“You seem to have bought up the entire shop!” Rashmi aunty exclaimed when she noticed the huge bag he was carrying.
Kartik just smiled and went home. When he came out, he asked aunty, “How come Dabbu is not crying for colours today?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she replied.
Thinking that she had finally bought Dabbu some colours, Kartik asked the boy, “Show me what you have bought for Holi. Dabbu smiled and took out a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. “These are magic glasses. My mother says they will show me all shades of colours on Holi. But don’t tell anyone or else the magic may not work.”
Before a stunned Kartik could say anything, Rashmi aunty took him aside. “His father has been very sick for the last year and the treatment is very expensive. I cannot afford a spray gun or colours. So I gave him these glasses.”
Speechless, Kartik looked again at Dabbu, who was gloating over his prized possession. Quickly, he ran home and picked up all his Holi purchases and went back. When he held them out to Dabbu, the young boy looked stunned. He picked up the spray gun and hugged Kartik, who felt the wetness of Dabbu’s tears on his shirt.
