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THE KITE RUNNER
A gentle gust of wind swept down the valley, bringing with it a surge of freshness that the children eagerly inhaled. Their faces lit up with giggles as they ran across the dew-drenched green carpet, oblivious to the growls of hungry stomachs. The scent of makar wafted from a distance, but the allure of flying kites held their attention. The sky transformed into a vibrant boutique, a colorful exhibition of soaring kites, their threads leaving scattered cuts on soft palms. Yet, the pain didn't deter their enthusiasm.
Among the children, Aasha retrieved me from her little cupboard, a gift from her mother the previous year on her twelfth birthday. Her black hair danced in the wind as she joined her friends, hugging me tightly. Together, they launched their kites into the sky.
When Navin called Aasha's attention to her kite, I unintentionally separated from my thread. The light breeze carried me away from the crowded valley. I saw Aasha and her brother running to catch me. I yearned to stop flying and return to Aasha, leaping onto her chest as she would wrap me with her skinny yet comforting arms.
The wind proved to be my worst nightmare, carrying me to unknown parts, to dark places untouched by light. My blue skin collected dust particles, increasing my weight and making it difficult for the wind to carry me further. I gave out a shriek of happiness as I gradually glided down and got stuck on the barbed wires. I felt the presence of Aasha nearby. Soon, I could see her accompanied by her brother, Navin. However, something made them stop. With a reluctant step, they came closer to me. But, all of a sudden, I flew away once again. This time they merely witnessed me flying away without pursuit.
Soon, the reason for their unwillingness became apparent – the barbed wires, separating the house of the village head. They never participated in the kite-flying festival, rumored to detest it for unknown reasons.
"But brother, that kite is all I have as her memory!" I heard Aasha crying, "I need to get it back. You wait for me here. I'll come back soon."
Aasha managed to climb the thin wires and, with careful steps, neared the bush where I was stuck. Crossing the fountain with a meditating Buddha, a small child came in her way. She halted, staring at his sad eyes, her heart skipping a beat.
"Didi, would you teach me how to fly a kite?" The tenderness in his voice melted Aasha. She nodded, picked me from the bush, and, holding the child's hand, left the place. The three of them together made their way to the valley.
That day, the little boy created numerous cherished memories. He mastered the art of flying kites and relished the traditional foods of Makar Sankranti. As the sky was peppered with crimson clouds and birds formed a magnificent shadow on the ground, the village head came in search of his son in the valley. The children shivered with fear, but surprise dawned on them when his lips curved into a wide smile.
"After such a long time, I saw my son smiling like this," he said. His eyes twinkled as he took me from the ground and made me dance with the clouds. Once again, I felt alive, blissful as people united, sharing laughter.
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I am Adrika, a seventeen year old author. This piece holds the purest form of love. The love between family. I tried to capture this love with the help of a hugely celebrated festival of India- the kite running festival.
I hope you enjoyed reading it:)