The Child and the Moon

               A long time ago, children were told a story on moonlit nights. Looking at the shining ball, a small boy screamed, “Maa, chaand kyun itna door hai? I want to touch it!”

             His mother smiled and gave him a bowl of hot dalia sweetened with milk and cardamom. “Try this and you shall know the moon.”

            Confused, the boy took a bite. The grains were like little stars, gentle and down-to-earth. “It is as though the moon had melted in my bowl, he thought.”

            It was said that the moon was very fond of children. But because it could not come down to earth, it gave humans dalia — grains that appeared dull but had a light inside. Whoever ate it would feel full, soothed, and steady, as the moonlight itself.

           Even generations later, grandmothers repeat the story: “Chaand ne apna noor dalia mein chhupa diya hai”. Bowls of sweet dalia at bedtime were more than food — they were lullabies, and the child was connected to the sky.

         Even now, when dalia simmers slowly and the air is filled with its warmth, it is said to be the blessing of the moon — simple, steady, quiet, glowing through every home.