A boy borrows a watch, loses it, and finds a better measure of time: honesty.
**Hook:** Dev borrowed his uncle’s watch for a festival and came home with a naked wrist and a horror growing teeth.
**Rise:** He rewound excuses: crowds, thieves, tragedy. Then he entered the kitchen, saw his uncle washing rice, and told the truth in one breath. The uncle dried his hands. “Find it,” he said, “but first eat.” They drew a map of stalls and steps. On the way out, the uncle pressed two coins into Dev’s palm. “For posters.” Dev swallowed his shame and printed LOST WATCH—GIFT FROM MOTHER—PLEASE RETURN. He pinned them where the city remembers things: tea stalls, bus stops, the old banyan.
Two days later, a rag-picker arrived with the watch, face scratched, ticking bravely. “I saw the mother’s line,” he said. “I have one too.” Dev paid the coins and something else—the habit of announcing truth before it rots.
**Finish:** The watch lived, the uncle smiled, and Dev learned time isn’t what the watch measures; it’s what you do when it goes missing. **Moral:** Honesty shortens the longest searches.
