“Mother look!. What is this multicolored band in the sky?”
“This is called Ram-dhanu, son,”
mother said bowing reverantly before the rainbow that was spanning the evening sky covering one end of the lake to the other.
“What is a Ram-dhanu, mother?”
“It is bow that Lord Rama used to slay Ravana in the battle of Lanka, son.”
Time passed. Harsh, an adult now, was pursuing his doctorate degree in physics. Walking by the lake one evening he saw his mother bowing to multicolored rainbow.
“What are you doing mother? It is nothing but refraction of light in the sky. This is no bow of Lord Rama!”
“May be for educated people like you, son,” Replied mother, raising her palms to her forehead,
“For me it is still the Ram-dhanu.”
“Such superstition! No wonder we are not progressing!”
“Grandpa why are you bowing before the rainbow? It is only a play of light in the atmosphere! I read in my science book.”
“Yes son it is nothing but a play of light,”
said retired Professor Harsh to his teenage grandson, while he touched his forehead,
“I salute the power making this play and in whom this play is being staged.”
Word Count : 201
Photo Credit : April Pearson