Balloons from Salt Lake City

I’ve been trying to lose a lot of weight so that I can relate to the “Pale Blue Moon”. I am exercising and walking a lot at night to help myself with back pain. It’s getting terrible and terrible.

I was very tired while walking and listening to songs.

I am loving this album, “Danger Days” by My Chemical Romance. I was already very exhausted and was trying to feel the music and the energy in its possession. The next song was “Na Na Na Na Na Na Na'.

I stopped at the street and started singing the lyrics loudly. To my knowledge, there was no one around me, and I felt excited. I thought and said to myself, “Let’s take the bait. Everyone has left me alone so that I can sing this one loud”.

Gee’s part came and I sang along with him, “Drugs, gimme drugs, gimme drugs. I don’t need it, but I’ll sell what you got” looking at the sky with my arms spread wide.

I was all energetic, exhausted and happy thinking of making a contract with devil for creativity. Just as I said the first line of the main stanza, someone landed a strong blow on my back. It felt like, I was hit by a plastic pipe.

I shouted in pain and fell down.

I wanted to see who did that to me. I turned around and it was the cops.

One of the males said, “Motherfucker, what the fuck did you just say. Are you selling drugs. You fucking stray!”. There were 3 of them, 2 males and one female. All of them started charging on me. I was alone, couldn’t see anyone around me to my visibility. They kept on hitting me on the head, neck and legs with their sticks.

I was shouting while getting beaten. I was trying to say, “I’m not a fucking stray. I have parents even if they don’t love each other and want to stay away. Doesn’t mean I am a fucking stray you assholes”.

They stopped after they got tired and I started shouting at them saying, “I was just singing a song and I showed them my phone”. They stared at me in anger and one of them came near. Put both of his legs on the sides of my body, held be my collar, pulled me towards him and said, “Be mindful of what you say. Leaving you for now, if we catch you the next time, you’ll be behind the bars”.

They got into their jeep and left from there. I laid myself down there on the street itself for a while and started crying. I cried a lot, let out a very wild shout in the air in pain. They had beaten me way too much for singing a song which had the word, “Drugs” in it.

I felt lost in this world where there’s no place for me, got up and continued with my walk. One of them hit me with the stick on my face, so I was bleeding near my mouth. I knew because I was able to taste my savory blood. I wiped my eyes and blood from my lips. They really beat the shit out of me for singing.

I walked to a nearby juice shop and asked for a chilled 10 INR Bisleri. He handed me the bottle and I knew instantly that it wasn’t originally a packaged Bisleri. Because, the water was filled till the bottle’s neck. I looked at the shopkeeper and asked him, “Have you heard the news that honesty is dead inside you already ?”.

And I ran away like a coward.

I sat on a pedestal and emptied that bottle inside my gut. It gave me relief. Recently, cold things have been making me feel healed in my brain and my head stops hurting. I wanted to drink a coke, but I’ve been having too much of it and my body is crying and asking me not to consume it more.

I got up and started my next song in the queue. I sang, but this time I was just whispering. I did not want any more beating. It hurts.

C’mon, I was obviously angry and I started crushing the bottle while singing along a song called “House of Wolves”. I was loving the poetry. I’ve been talking a lot of creative things recently and I don’t know why but I want to be creative. I’m ready to leave whatever I’m doing now if I achieve the level of creativity I have in my mind tonight. I am inflating my mind with fantasies.

I started walking faster and faster because I was planning everything you are reading right now. I had to do it because my instinct was becoming more and more active. I told myself, “I can’t waste time here, I need to go and start writing”. I told myself, “Respect it”. Instinct for me is like that Candle which is lit up during heavy wind. The candle is burning only for 10-20 seconds until the wind comes and whispers air in my mind.

I saw a lot of people walking with their partners, it’s lovely to see them feeling loved, while, I’m walking with a person next to me who has disdain in how the world is working. I wanted to dial a number. The number belonged to someone who is sitting in the heaven and watching me. He’s a good person and his name is Frank Kafka.

Sadly, he does not have a phone there in the heaven. But, I miss him.

I saw a stray kid near the Hocco Ice Cream shop at the Patel Circle in Ghatkopar. I went towards him thinking I’d get a Choco Bar for both of us.

I crossed the circle and went towards him. He was looking at the shops banner. Adorable kid though, looked very talented and precocious. I guess, he was not even 7 years old. He probably knew that all he could do was just stare at the Ice Cream cone and bars pictured on the poster.

I went behind him and brushed my fingers through his hairs with affection. He startled and got away all of a sudden.

I said, “Hey, don’t be scared. I’m just here to buy us some ice cream”.

He dropped dead silent.

I made one more effort and said, “Don’t be scared, let’s talk over an ice cream. Come choose”. And, I proceeded.

I looked in the storage container and oh my, stuff looked so expensive and tasty. I went for the Ice Cream sandwich. I realized, he’s too tiny to understand and see what options the world is offering him. So, I picked him up and showed him the container full of ice cream. He pointed at the Mudslide Cone Ice Cream. I put him down and said, “Good choice, it looks really good, maybe we could share a bite with each other later on ?”.

He went silent again. I was pissed to be very honest, I’ve been dying to understand and listen how his voice sounds and the natural tone of his.

Anyways, I got the ice creams went to the counter. Turns out, again, this is a self service shop without a manager or shopkeeper. I went to the counter billed our ice creams and made the payment.

I offered him my finger to hold and said, “Let’s find a place to sit and then devour ?”.

He nodded and held me by the finger I had offered. Felt good.

We found a place to sit very nearby and we took our seats. I opened the packaging for him and gave him his ice cream. He sat very near to me, his hand on my thigh. I unpacked my Ice Cream sandwich and took my first bite.

First bite and the sensation fucked my lips. From the inside, my lip was completed ripped off, so the rock cold ice cream just sent a shock wave through my mouth. I smiled and kept on eating.

He seemed very happy and was enjoying too. I could understand this by the non stop biting on every single edge of the ice cream and the way he kept on moving in joy.

I asked him, “What’s your name ? Mine’s Malachy”.

He replied, “I don’t have a name”.

I said, “Ahh, that’s interesting. What do you want to call yourself?”

He replied, “Uhmm, I don’t know much, maybe, I’d like to call myself Bod”.

I said, “Eh wait, I’ve heard the name somewhere”. I remembered it all of a sudden and gasped in joy, “Ohh yess!! I remember it now. Bod is the name of the boy in Neil Gaiman’s ‘The Graveyard Book’. Let me tell you, that’s a neat choice”.

I offered him my sandwich, he took a bite of it, smiled and continued on his. He did not offer me his though. I mean, it’s fine, he’s a kid and I’m a mature teenager, hopefully.

In no time, Bod was done with it. He jumped down from the seat. He stood looking at the cabs passing by the road every now and then. He put his hand in his pocket and took out a XL size balloon.

Bod started inflating it with his mouth. I’ve always been adamant of filling balloons with mouth itself. I don’t know, maybe I’m a coward but its scares the shit out of me. It’s the anxiety from the potential burst.

I was looking at him. He kept on pushing life in the balloon. The balloon started getting bigger, bigger, bigger, bigger, bigger and even bigger. It started making me very uncomfortable. I was getting really jittery, anxious, scared and all I wanted to do was get some stimuli in my body because my body was asking for it. I told myself, “You cannot grow so aware every time”.

Bod stopped, turned towards me with the balloon in his hand, held by the neck making sure life won’t escape from it. He held it very tight to make sure the balloon won’t escape from his hand.

I kept on looking at him. He started looking around for something. I couldn’t figure out what. I whispered, “Is he finding something to burst it ?”. I panicked.

He found a small sharp piece of wood. He looked at me creepily and with full force of his left hand, pierced the balloon with the wood piece. And, “Bang!”.

I opened my eyes, woke up and started breathing heavily. As if I had seen my death in a nightmare. I was still lying on the street in pain from the beating. I was scared and panicking because of the loud burst sound the balloon produced. I realized, I was just dreaming in the unconscious state of mind. I never felt so scared.

I lifted my back, and I swear it was paining a lot. I couldn’t remember much other than being beaten by the cops. I pulled both my legs towards my upper body and put my head between my thighs wrapping my hands around them. And I started sobbing.