The Silent Celebration

The air was filled with excitement as Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations filled the school. Aarav, Meera, and Kabir, three best friends, soaked in the festive energy. It was the first day of the festival, and between rituals and the lively atmosphere, the kids were itching for a bit of adventure.

As the festivities took a short break, Aarav leaned toward his friends with a cheeky grin. “Let’s sneak into the storeroom. The peon never lets anyone inside. Now’s our chance.”

Meera hesitated, but Kabir’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. It wasn’t forbidden—just a place always off-limits because of the strict peon who guarded the door. Today, with all the noise and activity, it was their chance to explore the unexplored.

The three of them slipped away unnoticed and made their way to the storeroom at the back of the school. The door creaked open as they entered, and the room greeted them with a musty smell. Old, forgotten furniture was scattered around, covered in dust. Shelves sagged under the weight of unused supplies, and cobwebs draped the corners.

The kids wandered around, their fingers trailing along dusty surfaces, excited by the thrill of discovery. They ran their hands over old desks and worn books, poking around and laughing at their secret adventure.

Suddenly, they heard a voice calling from outside the room.

“Aarav! Meera! Kabir! Where are you?” It was one of their teachers, her voice echoing from the hallway.

Startled, the three froze and quickly ducked behind a large, forgotten shelf, hearts pounding. The teacher’s footsteps grew closer, but she didn’t enter the room. She paused for a moment, waiting, and then, after hearing no response, turned and left.

The children held their breath, waiting in silence. After a few tense moments, they began to relax, giggling nervously as they emerged from their hiding spot. Relieved, they started to move toward the door, thinking the coast was clear.

But before leaving, they heard the teacher’s voice again—this time from the hallway outside the storeroom.

“You kids better hurry! The bus is about to leave!” she called out, sounding more impatient now.

The three exchanged wide-eyed looks and quickly stepped out of the storeroom. They walked down the hall, trying to appear casual, brushing dust off their clothes as they went.

When they reached the teacher, she crossed her arms and frowned. “Where were you? You almost missed the bus.”

Aarav, thinking quickly, smiled innocently. “We were just getting water at the dispenser.”

The teacher narrowed her eyes for a moment, then sighed. “Next time, don’t wander off like that. You could’ve missed the bus.” She waved them along. “Now hurry up.”

The children climbed onto the bus, their excitement returning as the day’s adventure seemed behind them. They chatted and laughed, heading home as if it were just another day at school.

The festival continued, and the children were at the centre of it all, joining every ritual with their families. The days of Ganesh Chaturthi passed in a whirlwind of celebration, songs, and joy. It was a festive atmosphere that masked everything else.

Aarav’s grandfather, however, couldn’t shake a certain worry. He stayed quiet but often glanced at the children. Something nagged at him, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Still, he didn’t voice his concerns, not wanting to disturb the festival’s happy spirit.

Finally, the day of Ganesh Visarjan arrived. The excitement reached its peak as families gathered by the riverbank, preparing to say goodbye to Lord Ganesh. The crowd bustled around the water, singing and cheering, as the children danced along with everyone else.

As the idol was slowly lowered into the river, Aarav’s grandfather stood quietly at the edge of the crowd, his eyes scanning the scene. His expression was serious, lost in thought.

Then, just as the idol began to sink beneath the water, he spoke. His voice was low but carried weight, cutting through the noise of the festival.

“It’s time for you to go now,” he said, looking at the children without directly addressing them.

Aarav turned to his grandfather, confused. “Go where Dadaji?”

The old man’s eyes met Aarav’s, filled with sadness and understanding. His voice trembled, heavy with the truth they had yet to realize. “You don’t belong here anymore.”

The children stared at him, their laughter fading. For the first time, they felt something shift, something cold and distant. Their smiles dropped as memories flooded back—the storeroom, the hiding, the strange silence that had followed them ever since.

They hadn’t made it out of the storeroom alive. The truth hit them like a wave of disbelief. Kabir, ever the curious one, tried to climb onto a tall shelf to get a better view of the high shelves. With a loud crash, the shelf teetered and fell, trapping Kabir beneath it. The sound was drowned out by the distant festivities, and the room fell eerily quiet.

Meera screamed, overwhelmed by shock as she fainted. Aarav, frozen with fear, didn’t know what to do. He tried to pull at the shelf, but it was too heavy. His panic grew, not just from the accident but from the fear of being caught. He never made it out and stayed hidden.

They had spent the festival days taking part in rituals, surrounded by loved ones, unaware that they no longer belonged in the world of the living. They had been spirits, moving through the days as if nothing had changed.

As the Ganesh idol disappeared beneath the water, so did the children. Their forms shimmered, slowly fading into the air around them. No one noticed—except the old man, who watched in silence, tears filling his eyes as they vanished from sight.