The Two Brothers and the Leaking Roof

In a small village called Rampur, there lived a kind farmer named Raghavan. He was poor but honest. His wife, Lakshmi, was gentle and caring. They had two little sons Kiran and Arjun.

Their house was old and made of clay, with a roof of straw. In summer, the clay walls kept them cool. But during the rainy season, it was a nightmare.

 

The roof was full of holes, chewed by rats. When it rained, water poured down like tiny waterfalls. Buckets and pots filled quickly, and the floor became muddy. The children huddled in one corner, shivering, while Lakshmi stayed awake all night, catching water in pots.

 

One Rainy Night

Kiran, the elder brother, looked up at the leaking roof and said angrily,

 

         “One day, I’ll build a big house — so strong that no rain can touch me!”

 

Arjun, the younger one, thought for a moment and said softly,

 

         “When I grow up, I’ll build many houses, so no child has to sleep in the rain”.

 

The brothers lived under the same roof, but their hearts dreamed different dreams.

 

Years Passed

Kiran went to the city. He worked hard and became a rich businessman. He bought a grand mansion with marble floors and shining lights. But he thought only about himself. His money built walls, not bridges.

 

Arjun also worked hard, but in a different way. He stayed in Rampur and started small. He grew crops, repaired tools, and saved every bit he could. Slowly, with his earnings and the help of kind villagers, he began fixing broken roofs, helping farmers, and building small schools.

 

Bit by bit, he changed the village. People loved him, and blessings followed wherever he went.

 

A Fall from the Sky

One year, Kiran’s business failed. His friends left him, and banks demanded money. Alone and tired, he decided to return to Rampur.

 

As he entered the village, he stopped in surprise. The old clay houses were gone. In their place stood strong brick homes with clean walls and sturdy roofs. Children played in the rain without fear. Women cooked happily. The air felt peaceful.

 

Kiran asked an old villager,

 

         “Who built these lovely houses?”

 

The old man smiled and said,

 

         “Your brother, Arjun. He never forgot those rainy nights. He wanted every family to sleep under a safe roof.”

 

The Real Treasure

Kiran’s eyes filled with tears. That night, he sat quietly outside Arjun’s house. He heard laughter and saw light glowing from inside. For the first time in his life, he felt warm — not because of walls or money, but because of love.

 

Arjun came out and saw his brother sitting there. Without a word, Kiran stood up and hugged him tightly.

 

Rain began to fall, but this time, it felt gentle like a blessing.

 

Moral of the Story

A roof that shelters one is small. A roof that shelters many is true wealth.