Phire Asha (Homecoming)

I have always loved flying kites. It was an August of some year in early 90s when I saw my neighbour fly a kite. A red paper kite with a blue tail. I had never seen something like that before. The breeze drifted southwards with the promise of rain and the fragrance of aging mangoes. He let the kite down from his terrace and tugged at the cord for a while. The kite and the flier were both waiting for the right moment. I kept wondering about how something as weak as paper dangling in a pitiable drift could fly. My neighbour looked nonchalant and gazed southwards. And then suddenly “swoosh” with a strong heave he lifted the kite in the air. Within seconds the kite was a good twenty feet in the air. I looked up to the south sky. The kite now guided by my neighbour drifted like red confetti etched against August's blue sky. I watched spellbound at the majesty of the display. I saw the freedom in my neighbour's eyes. Freedom of a kite? I saw that once the kite was well endowed with breeze from the upper strata it refused any tugs from my neighbour. It had a will of its own now. It drifted amicably in the breeze that was now a gust.

A good five years from that day in August I flew my first kite. A red one with a green tail. I saw freedom. For years I would go up on the terrace in the morning of 15th August and stay there until it was evening. My father built me an elevated terrace that was specially suited for flying kites. But by that time I had reached the upper strata. I had a will of my own. Like all families, my family has had issues. Issues that have no solutions but yellow pages of history attached to them. I have fairly been an obedient child on the daily basis but when it came to critical decisions I have always distanced my parents from taking them. I have often misplaced my anger and used it fuel myself rather than discussing issues openly. However, I finally confess that I have occasionally been a sore wound for my parents. Everything always just had to be about me. My space..my life..my wishes..my will. But somehow all I want to say is that today I realize it was nobody's fault...kites and gusts and free wills and cords and strings are what make the concoction of the family.