This spring we went out to the
park to fly kites, here in Dallas. I taught my eight year old to fly one. It
made me so proud that he picked it up quickly and I couldn’t help but think that
“It’s in the blood”! This bright, cheerful day with the clear sunny sky and
lovely breeze brought back so many memories of my kite flying days as a kid.
Each January, for twenty-three years
of my life, I have flown kites with family and friends. I don’t think it ever occurred to me that I could chose to not do this. It was tradition! The
passion for kite flying and the celebration of Uttarayan in Ahmedabad is not just about honoring a religious and
cultural event, it is almost a mania! If you grew up in this city, there isn’t
much chance of you not graduating with Kite flying skills!
On the day or Uttarayan and Vasi Uttarayan, there would be free flow of hot snacks, tea &
coffee, chilled water and sodas and the traditional chikkis. The competition was not just about the kite flying and who
would keep the Patang in the air the
most, or how many would you demolish from the competition for the small patch
of sky that is your arena, by cutting them mid-flight (pech), but also about who played the latest and loudest music. The
hoots and shouts and screams of victory or frustration were constant and
exciting. The atmosphere was as crowded with all kinds emotions of everyone as
the skies were crowded with the gorgeous and colorful kites.
As a really young kid, I started
off at the very bottom of the kite flying hierarchy – passing around chikkis to the Kite fliers and the phirki holders but mostly just eating
them myself! My mother who did not grow up in
Gujarat and had not been into this sport so much until she got married, was
soon well trained by my father to be a great ‘untangler of manja’ and of course a phirki
holder! I am not sure if mom was never too keen on the actual kite flying or
dad just didn’t teach her well enough so that he would always have a phirki holder ready!
Soon us kids grew up enough to be trained in the art of
detangling manja and holding the phirki the right way – anticipating the
needs of the kite flyer and staying alert, avoiding crashing into other flyers
and phirki holders, avoiding manja tangles, or if necessary detangling
immediately, keeping a sharp eye on whether to reel in the manja or let loose? Oh it was not an easy task. Papa used to fly
the kite high enough and when steady in the sky with no immediate threat (other
kites) visible in the area, he would call us to fly the kite for a bit. He
began to teach us how to keep the kite steady, how to tug at it only when it’s
tip was facing upwards so that it stays up, how to let the string loose and let
it go higher up in the sky when the wind was in your favor. As we did better
with these basic skills, he began to teach us how to put the kite in air from
the ground. That is a great skill too – to be actually able to fly the kite
from the ground. The coolest skill in my mind though, was the sky high kite wars
– pech – as it is called in Gujarati.
I think I was about 11 or 12 when I finally learnt to put a
kite up in the air without any help. Oh what an achievement that was! I felt
one with the winners, the big shots, the guys. The kite flyers club is one that
everyone on the terraces wanted to belong to. And you needed the skills, to get
that promotion from phirki holding! The first Uttarayan that I was flying kites
on my own was one of the best for me! It was exhilarating to see my kite fly so
high up that one could barely see it. The feeling of pride and satisfaction is
so high, it made me feel like it was me soaring high up in the sky with the
birds and not my kite.
While flying that kite in a park in Dallas with my son, what struck me was the wonder in my son’s
eyes when he saw his kite flying high in the sky. The beautiful smile on his
face, the pride in his brow and the squeals of delight and laughter when he managed to fly his kite higher! It reminded me so much of how I felt when I was in his place. Oh isn’t it the best thing in the world? To be able to
fly a tiny kite in the vast blue sky – feels like touching the sky with the tip
of your finger!
This experience is so different from what it was for me in my
childhood. There are no pech and no chikki, the kites are made of plastic
with cartoons on them and the manja
is actually a much softer and shorter string and we are often the only people in the park flying kites, none of that matters. Because
when I go kite flying with my family, in my mind, I am transported to the good
times of my childhood and the pleasure that it gives my child is more than
anything I can ask for. For all that, I am grateful.
Photo Credits:
MAD Family
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