When less was more...

When less was more...

Yesterday, my internet connection was down for some time. There was perceptible discomfort in the air. My sons were restless. I asked them to relax and told them that we did not even have internet in our childhood but somehow, we survived- that forces me to conclude that in absence of the internet, our lives were not at stake. My younger son asked me if we did not have internet and some of the gadgets he enjoys today, what exactly we used to do and how did we pass our time as kids.?

I wandered back, in time to my home in the cantonment area of Danapur, near Patna, when I was his age. 12 years. Among other things, Kite flying was perhaps my biggest obsession. This was the time when big, beautiful, and colorful kites adorned the skies during the harsh North Indian Summer…and every child was crazy about them !!?

It remains a happy childhood memory in which the entire family was involved. Those days, it was a popular activity in the early mornings or the evenings. Kite-fights were a norm and provided the excitement and a sense of competition to this popular activity, elevating it to the stature of a sport. Growing up in a large joint business family, I had many tutors. As a family, we prided ourselves as being one of the better players in the game and took a lot of pains to advance or at least maintain our edge.?

For starters, we prepared the thread as per our specifications against buying a prepared one from the market. It was a ritual that involved multiple people, synchronized effort, and teamwork. High-quality, strong thread rolls were procured. To make the thread fit for kite-fights, it had to be tempered and combined with glass powder. We purchased the glass powder and prepared a strong base of gum that ensured that the glass powder clings evenly to the thread and ensured a longer-lasting bond. This base was prepared by boiling rice to the point where it becomes very sticky.

Three people were required in the preparation process so more than three were involved to switch places for continuity and speed. A person each held the gum base and the glass powder, and another person wound the thread on a huge “Latai” (big hand-held spindle). This was done on a sunny day, under a shade, so that the thread dries quickly. The spindle, with the thread, was then left in the hot and blazing summer sun for some hours. Soon, we were ready with the threads. This was the ritual whenever our thread was about to get over.?

Next came the kites. Those were the time of colorful paper kites that were available in various sizes and types. The bigger the kite, the costlier it was. Bigger kites had an advantage over the smaller ones due to the difference in force and ferocity with which they could pounce- pure physics at play. The kite was the main attraction for me and my brothers.

I have spent many childhood hours strategizing how to cut the opponent’s line and then bring home the loose kite by entangling the remaining thread to our own line. This was the high point of the game. Whenever we were successful in bringing back our opponent’s kite or any other stray kite flying through the air, by entwining it in the mid-air, to our kite, our joy and sense of achievement knew no bound. This maneuver was fraught with a certain amount of risk as the loose thread from the stray kite could cut the line and carry your kite along. This was the greatest achievement and skill a kite flier could exhibit!! I do not recall the countless number of times, I have endured finger-cuts in the sport, chasing after stray kites but I do recall the joy of rescuing stray kites from roof-top or entangled in trees.???

?We bought kites in the multiple of tens. The art of kite making was more pronounced in Lucknow. The kites were bigger and better in build. We were so obsessed with kites that once we brought an entire bunch from Lucknow, back with us neatly packed, safely, in an eight-hour train journey (2 tier sleeper class).?I still remember the shop in Lucknow which was quite close to our house, near Aminabaad. The variety of kites in the collection was the stuff that children’s dreams are made of. Hand-made, beautiful kites, reinforced corners, with fancy tails and colorful names. Since my father also enjoyed the sport, we bought several varieties. I still remember one called “KanKaua”. It was the biggest kite the shop had. It was the king of the sky and won many fights.?

To gain proficiency in the sport, I learned multiple maneuvers (of the kite in the air). I spent long and blissful hours of practice, under the expert guidance of my uncles and elder brothers. The kite fights provided the unmatched thrill in which the entire family got involved actively with suggestions, comments, and strategy.?

When I recall my days on the terrace with my father, uncle, brothers & sisters, I cannot imagine a better way for a family to get together in the evenings.?

Kite making and Kite flying have almost vanished from our modern-day living both as a sport and an art. At least I do not find people in Bangalore, flying kites. The last time, I saw people flying kites was in Ahmedabad, on the 14th of January, when the day is celebrated as “Uttarayan”.?

Kite-flying was a bonafide sport and complete entertainment. For me, it is lost in time and lives only in the memory of a happy childhood. A childhood, in a small cantonment town of India, independent of any pressure and pretence.

Quite a contrast to our present-day life and living. In our overdrive to do and own everything, we have perhaps lost our sense of wonder. Even if we have retained a small portion of it, we have ensured that our kids are left with none. Senses are so suffused with abundance, that they have gone numb. Nothing is wonderous. Few things amaze us anymore!! Against this backdrop, I have narrated a simple tale from my childhood.

A time when there was great joy and wonder in trivialities of life…A time when less was more!!?

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