Let's Laugh Together with Her

"Are we bound that tight to the pipe?" asked a pink balloon from the other balloons nearby.

"Tight!" a synchronous reply followed.

"All of us are so different. Then how come we are all here together?"

We are all different in people's eyes because we have different colours. But to each other, are we really different?

"We have the same price," the yellow balloon prompted readily.

"We have the same size," the white one replied, "but my white colour makes me look fat."

"Why think about it? We are fine being together like this," the green balloon offered serenely.

"I don't care a single violet about it!" the violet balloon shared dreamily.

The pink balloon was somewhat quelled by the replies of the fellow balloons and curiously looked around the ballroom they had the honour to decorate.

"Why haven't they put us on the meadow under the bright blue sky?" The pink balloon thought to itself. "Why are we in this beautiful ballroom with stucco ceilings? The ceilings with stuccoworks look incredible but they are just that—ceilings. They can never compare to the open sky. There is no wind here..."

By that time, all the doors to the ballroom had been opened and the guests began to fill the room. Were it the open doors or the guest moving around that had caused the draught, the sudden blow of the wind rendered the balloons trembling and the threads tying them to the pipe tightening.

"Tight indeed," the pink balloon agreed, deep in thought.

The pink balloon did not ask any more questions. It had all the answers already.

The pink balloon quietly, barely whispering, asked the thread that tied it to the pipe: "Could you please separate yourself from the other threads tying the balloons to the pipe?"

"I could try," the thread replied.

Gentle music started playing, and the guests began to split into pairs. The pairs burst into dancing, twirling through the ballroom air, leaving whirlwinds in their wake. The balloons were happily catching the little air vortexes, brushing against each other.

"How is it going? Can you do it?"

"No, the knot is too tight. If only we could swirl around a little to ease the knot..."

"We surely can."

The pink balloon was excited to contribute to the daring act and began to swirl around.

"To one side, please."

"Sure! To one side it is then..."

"What are you doing?" the blue balloon asked menacingly when the pink one rose above the rest of them."

I'm trying to be released!"

"Don't you dare! We are a composition! If you are released, everyone must follow! No one wants to follow! You must not be released!"

But it was too late. The thread separated itself from the shared knot and followed the pink balloon into the air.

The thread seemed almost transparent in the thick air of the ballroom. The only thing that could be seen was the pink balloon. The balloon was already floating in the air when it realised that even though the doors were tall, it was already so high in the air that it had surpassed the door frame long ago. The only thing the balloon could do was float higher into the air until it reached the ceiling.

"Hold on! Don't get popped! I like flying high with you."

The balloon brushed against the ceiling but seemed unscathed.

The two rebels went unnoticed by the crowd underneath the ceiling. No one was looking that high up. No one could even dream of reaching the height they had ascended. The balloon and the thread were completely fine with it.

The noise of the music had died down long ago. The ballroom was enveloped in darkness. The balloons and decorations had been removed, packed and carried away. Silence ensued.

"Are we falling now?" the thread asked.

"No, we are flying down."

"What are we going to do when we reach the ground?"

"Let's think about it when we do."

"Mom, look! There is a balloon up there!"

"How strange! Where did it come from? Don't leave marks on the floor! It's still wet."

The mother was carefully collecting trash into plastic bags and wiping the floor clean. The girl was patiently waiting for the balloon's thread to fall into her palm.

And the thread was not scared of falling anymore. It is not scary to fall when someone is there to catch you.

"Please hurry up!" the girl murmured. "Mom will finish her work soon and we will have to leave."

The balloon was still high in the air but the thread touched the girl's palm softly and from then on, there were three of them. The girl, the thread and the balloon.

The balloon was quickly descending as the girl was wrapping its thread around her palm. The balloon was thrashing in the air.

Could it be that it was scared? Or was it excited to meet her?

"You caught it? Let's go. I have finished cleaning the room. What a beautiful balloon! Now it's yours."

The girl was too scared to let go. She was holding the balloon close, protectively hugging it to her chest.

The cold hard ceiling could not compare to the soft and warm touch of her palms. The balloon decided to trust her. So did the thread.

"Are we bound tight?" the balloon would ask the thread when the girl let it rise into the open air while holding the thread as she walked down the road or ran through the wild green grass of the meadow under the bright blue sky.

"Tight. Very tight. Why? Do you not want to fly high anymore? It's open sky up there. There is no ceiling."

"I don't want to lose this girl." The balloon replied. "The sound of her laugh is so beautiful. Let's laugh together with her!"