The rocket panjedari rises like a whispered prayer into the velvet sky, a slender spear of light propelled by dreams and fire. As it ascends, it leaves behind a luminous trail, a golden thread stitching earth to heaven. Then, at the height of its flight, it blooms—bursting open like a celestial flower. Each petal a spark, each shimmer a heartbeat of celebration. In that fleeting moment, the sky is not just seen but felt—alive with color, sound, and wonder. It’s more than a firework; it’s a fleeting poem written in the language of stars.