Ages n’ Ages Hence;
The Fall of Democracy.

It came flying, from nowhere; to where no one knows. No one wants to know. That balloon; brought to life, from the unholy air, now treads these states. Who knows for how long, for it may end in a needle prick or at the pointy branches of trees shedding the same air we feed. Let alone the gust that takes it from gloomy slums to the highland yards.
Like the many lives that were taken aback even before sprouting, lives that drowned at the peak of imagination, that string too broke depriving, that child from the happiness he found in holding that balloon; in the imaginary world they were in, leaping around with no virtual fears. The gust took up the balloon as the child was left down to cry. It was not just this one, there were millions more from parts of the world touched by human hands.
The balloons moved in with the wind, above us as if the ‘all seeing eye’, above our heads. From there it saw, without anyone to alter- The real selfie, a selfie of earth. It showed devastation to deprivation, abandonment to reconciliation. The world it saw is far from our heirloom and yet far to be a heirloom from us.
One such balloon flew over the open park. The mere sight of which, could make feelings bloom in a mind, ready to accept n’ enjoy. The beauty that the greeneries held open could make a writer shout in joy of a new plot; an artist to draw his signature piece’ it goes on as it influences all in its path, that is the beauty of nature. Beneath its path the balloon saw ‘people’. Walking, running, shouting, fighting, playing. Sons of Adam and daughters of Eve engaged themselves, here in this park. Particularly it saw a group of children, young and older, all were there, now playing as peacefully as a feather gliding down. But even in these minds the slightest displeasure created rage, they forced themselves against each other. Their lives were stuck, far from the lap of nature, in the bordered boundaries of the modern age. Nature is a mystery to them, one which will never unfold.
The balloon swept forth with the wind. On one of the packs of benches there was a couple, both young and elegant. The lady held in her arms a baby of such beauty that even the sun was afraid to shine bright. The mother’s eye glittered like a gem. She dreamt of time far beyond, when her child was to rule around on his own. The father was determined to provide his family with the best he can. He looked down on his wife and child affectionately and thought of a time they were to prosper together as a family.
Fate truly is tempting like the Satan’s fruit.
Underneath the shades, there was a man sleeping tired. He dozed as if the tensions of life was hard upon him. The torn clothes and the rugged beard and hair signifies nothing but poverty. The balloon the caught the glimpse of a shining golden chain, lying beside the tramp, half inside his pocket half on the ground……
The world truly is a deceptive queen.
The balloon swayed, swayed and moved on.
Another balloon was over Mt. Eleanor, a place truly captivated by the wild. The balloon flew over it, it reached heights not by moving with the gust, but by adjusting itself against it, to reach where it deigned to be. From here the balloon saw the whole as in a nutshell. The sun is about to come out; from hiding in fear of its neighbor’s residents. The picturesque dawn as if from imagination, showed the nature in its beauty. Hope seems to be everywhere, in each spirit, even in the unfamed Mt. Eleanor. There was a man right on its peak. He surely is daring. Is there someone following? .. a girl..?.. of ten..? The world is to rest its hope on people like these, when children are used and abused he finds himself ready to share his spirit, to share this beauty. In a perfect world this could symbolize the whole of mankind, but…. Wind waved pretty hard and took the balloon down. All of a sudden, there was no wind, the balloon swayed down to a stop. It fell by the river side. On the opposite bank, there it saw a ‘fish’, a golden yellow one, it was struggling for the last of its breath. “ Even the waters are not safe for its fish.”
Our world has changed a lot.
Our next balloon was in the land of Palestine above the soil of Gaza. Even the gust was afraid to take our balloon too high or too low, cause machines with speed and accuracy occupied those space. Machines tuned to kill. No birds breached the sky or may never will, no life may set upon this land and no one left to tell its tale. Our balloon rubbled in the sky, for one it knew not where to go and what to see. It is a war; machines against machines. Machines made of steel and that of human flesh with blood streaming, but lacking the soul; yes, men raged against men; like those from the park, but here to face their doom. The balloon flew low some how undisturbed, the external pressure is too great for one man, it blew out the air even from our balloon. On its path someone tried to get hold of our balloon, by the string. It was a boy, even amidst this war; hidden beneath a rubble fort, he smiled and tried to play with this balloon. But he didn’t get hold of it. Then there came a man. He carefully lifted the boy and moved far aback from this war zone. He is truly frustrated. But in his eyes there was hope, like that of the lady at the park and he is also daring, like that man atop Mt. Eleanor as he came back for this child out into a war field. People are dying out here, where they were meant to live peacefully. It is true that even the “ waters are not safe for its fish.”
Brsssst…
A bullet from nowhere whoozed right through the balloon. The unholy air got along well in this unholy land. But it is true that there are forces , stronger and mightier, it may be invisible, but truly it acts, on everything. The rubber residue swifted down on the call of a mightier force.
When Apollo 11 landed on the moon, there too was a balloon. It is not clear who blew it, but it was there. It came out from the space craft on to the moon. From there it saw a world, a world of hope; where fights, cries, laughs, shouts of trust and distrust would not be heard. There was no bullets or machines to interfere with the real beauty.
It was the perfect world , the one we longed for.
That balloon still flies above us, in its true spirits, as if from that day. With no pressures to alter its form. It occupies the vicinity of the space as if in our dream… in some hope…