Kites

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Without kites life would have lacked something,

Like a curry without salt and pepper,

I know that whirling and swirling, fluttering of tail,

When filled with a life setting out for a sail,

I left all the gravity of this world,

All those hassles and hardships,

Into the spell-sealed Chirag of Aladdin,

And, bounced upon the eternal happiness laced into my world….

Eight years after I was born, my legs were not on ground,

I was flying along with those kites,

The red one, the blue one, of plastic and paper…

So many choices,

Even life provides no more than just two or three,

Under the rays of hot sun, in the breezy days of July and August,

Out in the plain terrain of Far west,

I was innovating happiness,

I was making my own kite,

Precisely measured size, perfect color,

With broom sticks and cello tapes,

I was a perfect engineer in those days than I am today,

And for me, the newspaper were meant for making kites,

I could guess what the micro fonts of newspaper might have felt.

A time for set up,

Time, when that static air burst out like old dynamite,

And my kite became large enough to hide me from the sun,

My kite was sailing for the history it will make within hours,

Up in the air, dancing with the wind,

“Hoo-ha.., Yahoo”,

I lost myself into the kite, into that moment,

As if we exchanged our soul,

I was flying,

I was doing all those ups and downs,

I was feeling the air, inhaling a new life,

Exhaling out my childish burdens stifling my yawn of relief,

Up, down, left, right, up, down, left, right….

Round and round….

And…, (“chaiiit”)… Gone… L

My kite lost its soul, no thread was there to tie us…

I started feeling all those hassles,

All those homework, school, teachers, boring last classes of summer,

You might’ve felt what it is to rise up at four and go for morning summer classes…

But, still another kite waited the next day,

To frame my memories high in the sky,

To play the same game of exchanging soul,

And to deposit its grace and love inside me,

Still that bounding stamped onto my heart,

That passion marked into my consciousness,

I am just what my kite made me,

Who knows how to fly,

How to breathe that air poisoned by the hardships,

Who feels others’ soul,

And just leave right when they shine,

Without an inner urge for a thread,

And get lost into an unknown horizon of life.

published in Republica

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