The Red Balloon

"Riya come, its time for bed now", said Anita calling out her daughter to tuck her into bed.
It has been a tiring day for Anita, taking care of her 5 year old child.
Riya just like any other 5year old has always been curious about the way adults lived their lives. She would copy her Dad's way of walking and copy her Mom's style of talking and wearing a dupatta at home.
Riya, just like her name, was like a little bundle of joy. Her soft curly hair falling on her pink chubby cheeks, made her irresistible not to play with.
A simple smile on her face would make anyone forget his/her own struggles in life, and rather take time to observe this wonderful yet significant smile.
Her father Anil, a lawyer by profession, would take her to the school in the morning and her mom would pick her up in the afternoon.

Anita, who used to work with an IT company, was having a tough time to let her job go and stay home to care for Riya. The notorious nature of Riya had made her to take a break from her job and be a full time mom to Riya until she grows a bit more mature.

Riya on the other hand, lived a carefree life just like a 5year old should. She would wake up with all sorts of nagging and fake stomach & head aches to avoid going to the school.
Her parents were now used to her oscar worthy performance everyday.
Her time in school would start by thinking about what toys to choose to play with and end with trying to take the toys back home.
Everyday her mom came to pick her up. She would take her bag, put her four lined notebook and her square lined maths book in it, and leave for home.
 Everyday walking along with her mom, Riya would always look across the street at the balloon vendor.

"The Red Balloon". There was something special with that red balloon. She would always cry to get that balloon to take home, but her mother dragged her saying it would blow out till the time they reached home.
Riya would always get heart broken when her mom wouldn't buy her the stuff.
Coming back to home, Riya asked Anita on why would she never buy her that red balloon.
Anita seeing her innocently red-faced, would laugh and say that "you yourself are like a red balloon my love, why would you buy another?".
Riya asked Anita, "what is so special about that red balloon Mamma? You never answer me right".
Anita then fed Riya with her favourite Cheese-sauce Pasta and took her to bed, read her a nice story and Riya fell asleep to her afternoon nap.
Anita came back to her room, with tears rolling on her cheeks, she pulled out an old album from the drawers.

In pictures she saw her elder sister who had died in an accident two years ago.
She saw how happy she looked holding her only daughter "Riya" with a Red Balloon in her hand.