The Red Balloon

I was at a carnival, it was more of an ‘Indian mela’ where there are rides for the children and some stalls for you to buy stuff and counters to satisfy your always hungry stomach. I was sauntering around when a young kid passed by and I couldn’t help track him down. My eyes were glued to him and his actions.

He was a small child wearing carefree tracks and a red t-shirt enhancing his cutest smile. He held tightly to a red air balloon and was hopping along with his parents. I smiled at him even though I was not sure if he would return the smile. Indeed he did and the moment he smiled at me with his open heart he lost the balloon; he just left the string.

And there we were both of us staring at the red balloon flying high in the air. I thought he would cry but he didn’t, instead he kept smiling and giggling and he moved on. He went away with his parents and I was there standing still and wondering how could he let go a thing he loved so much.

I do not know why I stood there? I cannot tell why but I just couldn’t let go of the sight. The balloon was not even mine. How was it so easy for him to let go off and so difficult for me? I do not know what I wanted, the balloon? Or to let go of something or even the authority to fly freely into the air without any restrictions just like the red balloon? I simply don’t know.

I do not know and yet I stood there staring at the red balloon flying high in the sky, smiling until someone came and pulled me along to go eat some ice cream.

 

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