“Some dreams are about surpassing the sky”
In the blue sad sky, helium balloons find their way out to somewhere we can’t reach.
Ghazal used to sell helium balloons for 15 rupees. Hardly, a child cried over the balloons that floated high in the sky when got away from the little hands. Ghazal would eat two times a week and everything depended on how much she sold.
I would wonder from where she used to get them; how she carried the cylinder and where her family was. Ghazal had beautiful eyes and a muddy face.
As months flew by like helium balloons floating around the city and getting entangled in electrical wires, Ghazal stopped coming to our locality.
Her muddy face, which was because of her poor conditions, faded over time from the heart of the land. But the sky, the sky didn’t forget the little girl.
In the corner of my mind, I always wondered why I never saw their childhood as dreamy as mine.
I had dreams. Ghazal too had dreams, maybe much bigger that surpassed the sky.
Ghazal was also a child dreaming to fly away and stay happy. Ghazal would have always wanted to be like one of her helium balloons. She would have wanted to float away into the space and never touch the tarred roads of Bombay. Maybe her heart looked for a great flight.
And maybe Ghazal will fade from my memory but I want Ghazal to know that her story will always stay with me, floating in the blues of my heart, in the ink stuck on my diary and in the sky with the aura of it. //