The sun rose gently over the horizon, casting a soft glow that danced through the windows of the small residential school for blind, deaf, and mute children. On this particular morning, the air buzzed with palpable excitement; it was Holi, the festival of colours—a day dedicated to joy, unity, and unrestrained celebration. Inside the walls of this sanctuary, laughter spilled into the corridors, mingling with the rustling of caretakers preparing for a day that promised to be extraordinary.

Mrs. Sen, the head of the institution, moved with grace and purpose through the halls, her heart swelling with affection for the children who filled her life with purpose. An orphan herself, she had woven together a loving community from the threads of her own struggles, turning pain into a radiant purpose. For her, these children were not defined by their disabilities; they were vibrant spirits, each a rich story waiting to be told.

In the courtyard, tables adorned with fragrant marigold flowers lined the edges, surrounded by bowls of vivid powders—bright pinks, radiant yellows, deep blues, and verdant greens. Arjun, a boy with eyes that had never seen the world, could only imagine what these colours looked like but lost himself in the sensations around him. Each day, he walked through life guided not by sight but by the melodies of laughter and the warmth of friendship that filled the air. Today, as children laughed and danced around him, he felt the intoxicating thrill of joy spiral in his chest.

Arjun’s fingers twitched in anticipation. He had learned to savour the fragrances of the day, the way the sun warmed his skin, and the laughter of his friends ignited a spark within him. Although he could not see the kaleidoscope of colours that adorned his companions, he could feel their essence—how their spirits shimmered with every laugh and shout.

As the first burst of powder exploded, it felt like magic. Children shrieked in delight, a chorus of exuberance rising as vivid hues rained down upon them. Arjun stood amidst this joyous whirlwind, his heart racing. When warm powders brushed against his skin, he closed his eyes, letting the soft textures envelop him. To him, this celebration was not merely about colours; it was about feeling—about the thickness of laughter in the air, the rhythm of feet dancing against the earth, and the anticipation of being hugged, touched, and celebrated. He had learned that even without sight, he could embrace every hue that life offered, letting it inform his soul in ways he may never fully understand.

Shabnam, a girl who once felt isolated by her inability to communicate, stood beside him, her heart pounding in sync with her joyous peers. Suddenly, she reached for Arjun, her eager fingers coaxing him closer. “Feel the softness!” she urged, guiding his hands into a bowl of fine, fragrant powder. His fingers sank into the bright yellow, and he smiled, a soft, uncontainable grin that lit up his face. In that moment, he transcended his inability to see; he became a part of the communal tapestry of joy unfolding around him.

Mrs. Sen watched with tears glistening in her eyes as the celebration unfolded. She moved through the throng, offering warm embraces and whispered encouragement, each word a gentle affirmation. “You are love, you are light, you are whole,” she reminded them, reinforcing the belief that they were deserving of every vibrant colour, life had to offer.

As the sun began its descent, casting warm hues across the courtyard, the colours began to fade. But the spirits of the children remained unbroken, bright as ever. They gathered for a final group hug, their laughter rising like music, enveloping Mrs. Sen in their joy. The fleeting thought of their orphaned state faded, overshadowed by the undeniable camaraderie they had forged—not just among themselves but with the compassionate adults who stood beside them, reinforcing the truth that love can weave families from threads of shared experiences.

In that sacred moment, held in each other’s embrace, all deficiencies were forgotten. Their joy spilled over, creating waves of warmth that illuminated even the darkest pain. Arjun, with his heart full and spirit high, embodied the essence of Holi—his laughter and exuberance a testament to resilience and wonder. Even without the gift of sight, he revelled in life’s vibrant colours, reminding everyone around him of the profound truth: joy is not merely about what we see, but about how deeply we feel, embracing every moment with love and light.