After collecting all the necessities, a huge pile of timbre, mounted with the glaze of natural oil stood in the middle. Some object was kept inside a natural earthen pit beside it, filled with water that had a sparkling luminosity. A crowd of villagers stood around it, looking at it with utmost importance. There were 25-30 people at most.
Then Adinath, being the village head, took out a burned-down torch from one of the villagers.
Its wooden handle was a beautiful mix of ebony and sandal. Then, he discarded the wooden torch into the pile and took out the object from inside the pit. It turned out to be a new torch, quite prettier than the old one.
The water dripped gracefully off it, like crystals parting to reveal a beautiful wooden texture, the top covered in the purest cotton cloth Ishar had ever seen.
"Our ancestors always favored the mashaal." Venkatesh explained, standing beside Ishar in a prideful manner.
"You noticed the big pile of timbre, right? Those are the mashaals used by each of the village heads, believed to be sources of warmth and enlightenment, during the darkest times.
This wood comes from the deepest parts of the forest, and the quality of it resonates much brighter than the common wood. When dipped in the natural oil, the torch burns longer and brighter than any device known today. It was a boon to the people of the past."
Ishar let out a sigh of astonishment and nodded in agreement. It was no surprise that the Indians in the past had found such ingenious techniques to preserve their science in a traditional way.
Adinath held up the torch for everyone to see, and then in a blink of an eye, the mashaal was blazing furiously with flames. The fire danced elegantly on the cotton, dazzling the shadows with a dance of scarlet and golden.
He slowly lowered the sleek handle to the pile of discarded torches, and with a great spark, the whole pile started to burn.
It was a comfortable burn…as if destroying the darkness with a symphony of light.
How had it lit up so fast?
Ishar had no idea, and he didn't bother to waste time lingering on that idea. He was focused on the villagers, who had now folded their hands and were muttering devotionally towards the bonfire.
"What are you-?"
Ishar turned to ask Venkatesh but stopped abruptly when he saw that even Venkatesh was praying. The whole team folded their hands towards the bonfire, prayed as a formality, and then met in a corner.