Kiran had always been a collector of superlatives. The tallest tree in the village. The brightest star over the millet fields. The widest bend in the river. The loudest thunderclap of the monsoon. He kept them all in his head like treasures in a box, and he loved nothing better than finding a new one.

This evening he and Thatha walked home along the river bund as the sky turned the colour of a ripe mango. Kiran had a new prize to report.

"Thatha! Today I saw the biggest banyan I've ever seen — over by the old temple. Its branches come down and turn into new trunks, so it's like a whole forest that's really just one tree. It's the most enormous thing!"

Thatha smiled. "And the star? The river? The thunder? You love all the biggest things."

"I do," said Kiran. "But, Thatha — why? Why do the biggest, brightest things make me feel so..." He searched for the word. "So full inside?"

Thatha stopped walking. The river slid past, catching the last gold of the sky. "Let me ask you something," he said. "The tallest tree, the brightest star, the widest river — are they all separate wonders? Or could they be pointing at the same thing?"

Kiran frowned, thinking. He pictured them all at once — the great banyan, the burning star, the wide silver river, the rolling thunder. And something shifted in his mind, the way a picture suddenly makes sense when you tilt it.

"They're like..." he said slowly, "...like windows. Lots of different windows. But the light coming through all of them is the same light."

Thatha's eyes shone. "Yes. That is exactly what Krishna teaches. He says that wherever something is the greatest of its kind — the tallest, the brightest, the most magnificent — a spark of him is shining there. You weren't really collecting trees and stars and rivers, Kiran. You were collecting glimpses of one thing. The same source, peeking through, again and again."

Kiran stood very still on the bund. He looked at the biggest banyan, far off against the darkening sky. He looked at the first star coming out. And he did not feel, as he usually did, that he was looking at a faraway wonder he could only admire from a distance.

He felt close to it. As close as he felt to Thatha standing beside him. The one source behind all the biggest things was not far away at all — it was right here, looking back at him through everything he loved.

"Krishna says," Thatha added softly, as they walked on, "that when you truly understand this, you become joined to him, and nothing can shake it loose. No doubt about it."

And Kiran, for once, did not need to ask another question. He just walked, full and quiet and close, under the first stars of the night.