Ilham Aliyev
We believe that trust needs to be earned over years, and it can be lost with one wrong step.
Far away, in the deepest layer of the sky, lived a small glimmer called Lyumin. It was neither a star nor a known name. It was tiny, fragile, yet inside it lived a power it hadn’t named — the desire to shine.
Day and night, it gazed at the sky, watching the bright stars with envy.
“How bright they are… and I am almost nothing,” it thought.
One day, the stars in the sky began to fade one by one. The heavens were darkening. Everything was withdrawing… falling silent.
Lyumin became frightened. But this fear gave it a peculiar kind of courage. To protect the fading spark within, it set out on a journey.
At the beginning of the road, cold winds confronted it. They were strong, harsh, silent. As if they wanted to freeze Lyumin’s tiny spark. The winds whispered:
“Your light is so weak that no one even notices it. Stop right here.”
But Lyumin closed its eyes and, for the first time, listened not to its fear but to its will. With a small glimmer, it drew a line through the darkness. The winds fell silent for a moment. And in that moment Lyumin understood —
the strength of light lies not in its size, but in its source.
This was its first victory, its first step.
Its glow was small — but it was its own.
Lyumin continued its path. This time, thick, heavy clouds appeared before it. They were not only physical obstacles — they symbolized inner doubts. The clouds swallowed Lyumin, plunging everything into darkness. There was no light at all.
“Maybe I will never shine,” Lyumin thought.
“Maybe I was just an illusion…”
At the moment of deepest despair, a memory resurfaced: long ago, far away, someone’s light had once shown the way to it. Lyumin had been just a tiny speck back then. But that glimmer had changed it. And now it was Lyumin’s turn.
Gathering its strength once more, it pierced through the clouds. Protecting the voice inside that was close to fading, it believed in itself and in the path it had taken.
Further on, it encountered other bright lights. They all looked alike: large, blazing, harmonious. They applauded Lyumin:
“If you become like us, you will never fade.”
It was tempting — the appeal of safety, of conformity.
For a moment, Lyumin hesitated.
But then it wondered:
Where is my path? My voice? My uniqueness?
Their light was strong, but soulless.
And Lyumin understood —
it was born to resemble itself, not others.
It stepped back.
And went on alone.
But for the first time, it walked as itself.
That was its second turning point — the moment it believed in its own uniqueness.
The road led it into emptiness.
No wind, no clouds, no sound — only infinity.
It felt as though neither the sky nor the earth remembered it.
In that silence, a voice within began to speak:
“This path is not for you.”
“No one will ever notice your glow.”
“You don’t have enough strength to begin anything.”
But then something unexpected happened —
Far away, a fading spark suddenly revived.
That spark had felt Lyumin’s touch.
It had drawn strength from Lyumin’s small but sincere light.
And Lyumin understood:
To shine is not to be seen, but to touch.
To be different is not loneliness — it is influence.
One by one, other dim lights began to awaken.
None of them had names.
But all of them found their way through Lyumin’s unique glow.
They were silent — but their spirits spoke.
They had never truly been alone.
What began as a fairy tale became a story of awakening.
Because inside everyone, there is a Lyumin — a nameless voice, a spark we refuse to let die, a light that saves us not from others, but from ourselves.
Sometimes we walk alone, we stay silent, and no one understands our path.
Sometimes we believe we are unnecessary.
But one day…
our difference becomes someone else’s direction — someone’s hope.
Dear reader,
Always walk your own path; never become a copy.
Be different, because being different is not only courage — it is life itself.
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