Bo kata

If I think hard enough, there is just a remote possibility I'd remember the last time I stood up on the roof, next to my bro, holding nimbly onto the charkhadi, egging him on to take the big red kite on.  This was how it worked 'tween me and my bro - I was the one who was supposed to stand about a cricket pitch's length away, kite in hand, to let him get that initial elevation, and then scamper back to his position to commandeer the kite string holster, as he maneuvered, his tongue pressing hard against the left inner cheek, as he swerved from left to right, forwards and backwards, the kite soaring higher up into the sky.  Honestly, I never really minded being there as the sentry arming the holster while he led charge and attacked all other vultures scavenging the skies.  For me, standing there, stealing a glimpse of how liberated my bro felt tugging gently at times and pulling hard at others, was enough.  He'd just look my way, smirk, as our eagle'd rise higher towards the heavens, leaving all others behind.  He still instills a feeling of pride and arrogance whenever his kite takes off into the air.

I had never been a fan of kite-flying, mostly content with having a small 50 paise plastic piece of crap given to me in extremely windy conditions that would fly high, carried by the wind as long as I kept giving it string to continue on.  Minimal effort, that was my bidding.  Such insolence on my part still pisses my bro off, mostly because he fails to understand why I am so indifferent to the sport - one that has been mastered by at least one bloke in the Gupta bloodline every generation! I credit my indifference to him, since he turned out to be that guy, leaving no scope for me - am a dirty rat, I know. :)

All of what I just said still does not put anything in perspective.  I mean, come on, who writes an article on kite-flying?!  There isn't much up for discussion or debate, nor is it any more exciting than listing the nuances of horse-riding or something of the sort.  Most people won't even relate to the liberation I associated with my bro.  I would not either.  Why then, I questioned myself yesterday, when I saw the young boy and his younger friend at the crossroad divider animated and fighting hard to get their kite to win the war up in the air, I peered out of the taxi, and kept looking back as we drove past the crossing, trying to find something?  It was not a moment of realisation, or divine intervention.  I did not expect a revelation, an epiphany on how we waste away precious moments of our lives not paying attention to the minute details that define us.  Almost a day since, I still cannot get that picture out of my head.  I smile thinking of the joy and head-butt they must have done once the bird soared up into the air - why? I know not, I care not, and that makes me happy.

In a day full of disappointments, stress, anger, pre-occupation, I guess we do not mind the brief break and escape from reality.  Kite-flying grew on me, perhaps.  It might as well have been a moment of truth or reverence, deliverance from frustration, probably. Or maybe I really just wanted to see who'd win - can't deny the "rat race" element of the human psyche.   For all I care, it could have been anything, but in that moment as I turned back in my seat, all I thought of were the words "bo kata" and that is all of what occupied my mind and made me smile.

I promise you bro, come this 15th August, I shall be there by your side, holding on, as we conquer the heavens once again! ;-)