The balloon

"Do you wear ribbons on school holidays too?" she was asked.
"Yes."
"Do you have pink ones?"
"Yes."
"Oye! sab log suno...Here is a girl who wears ribbons at home too and they are pink."
Everybody who otherwise never looked at her turned round and laughed. She could feel herself going red.
"No. I don't wear ribbons. I don't have pink ribbons." she shouted.
Nobody heard.

The corner window is a nice place. It has a sill which fits her elbows perfectly. It gives her a clear view of the research institute. A balloon floated above the institute. It was not gay but translucent white. It was like the tear drop on her lashes. She wondered why any grown up at the research institute would buy a dull balloon and abandon it. But it was good to watch it soar. She would lose sight of it when the balloon hid in the clouds. Then suddenly she would spot it. It was like a secret hide and seek game.

Next year in eighth standard when she would learn about weather stations and weather devices, she would know that it was a weather balloon.