Balloons …. Gas balloons!!
It doesn’t seem very long, or was it? Sometimes around the festive season, pandals for the Durga Puja were getting decorated. A festive air was all around and I could feel the joy and excitement. New clothes , new shoes and yes new books – so normal for all the growing up years that I was accustomed to .
This year was going to be unusual.
Pa had got transferred to Delhi and was expected to take us after my annual exams. Nothing till then had worked for Pa. It was always a hand to mouth situation. I knew that this year too, there was to be no celebrations -have till date never ever understood this denial. We would visit the Puja Pandals like before and come back feeling miserable. I was not to be satisfied with any excuse this year – for I wanted 25 paise to buy Gas Balloons. After all an 11 year old deserves this much. My tears and tantrums had no effect on Amma , all I could hear was that she had no money – period!
My new Uniform and pair of shoes were already purchased – so how can anyone have any money left for balloons. You must remember, the argumentative Indian was still in the making. I put on my new uniform and shining shoes and accompanied Mrs Ekka and family, disgruntled, kicking stones and dust on that dimly lit road. I was angry and lost in my own pain. And all of a sudden, I see a shining object about to be kicked. I stop and guess what I noticed …a small purse with a clip like opening. Yes that was the shining part that drew my attention.
In it was a small paper, didn’t care what was scribbled on it, but saw a tidy sum and some change inside. This was the gift of God, I could buy all the balloons today and tomorrow and forever. But I stopped, after all I must thank the Lord for all his kindness as was taught to me in school and Moral Science was a subject I was very good at. I turned around and started running back for I had to reach the nearby temple and decided to offer some sweets and also place a small amount at the altar.
That day, My Lord was smiling and my faith in him truly shining.
I took the race back home to share this wonderful discovery and my leap of faith. My mother was upset, snatched the purse and took out the contents. Asked me how much I had spent , told her that I gave a rupee and bought sweets for 25 paisa and left the balance at the alter . She was still angry and on closer examining, realised that the purse could well belonged to someone whom Mrs Ekka may know. Yes it belonged to her friend, a teacher from downtown school. My mother narrated this to her and apologised at what I had done, promised to cover up what I had spent and returned home to give me a mouthful. I was told that there were rupees 5 and nineteen paise inside the purse. Imagine one could buy all the balloons and more …..
Not again and why me ?? Wondered why the Lord was unkind to me.
Seasons changed, and many winters later on turning 50 and grey, at the stroke of midnight, I was woken up by a group of friends. They had all come to wish me Happy Birthday with 50 Red Gas Balloons. Ginger my Pug was so excited; he had never seen anything like this before.
I did not sleep that night and just kept watching the red balloons clinging to the ceiling with Ginger by my side.
To this day I follow the Gas balloons in gay abundance as they rise above, for I know that in their flight , I see myself reach out. The child in me still skips and yearns for more … when I see the gas balloons!
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