The Kite

 

 

 

Aniruddh struggled on his terrace, with his reel and kite. It is the day of makar sankranti and he has heard from his non-bengali friends that on this day, they fly kites. Studying in the eighth standard and with exams knocking at the door, he has somehow secured an hour from his mother, for flying kite. His aunty has gifted him a colourful kite, the previous evening.

Aniruddh’s parents have taken a days leave from their respective offices. His ailing grandfather was unwell since last night. A doctor has already visited their home in the morning. The atmosphere at home was gloomy and silent. The open terrace and the blue sky seemed to provide him the required relief and oxygen. A mild wing awoke his sleeping mind and he started humming a tune…,

“তোমার খোলা হাওয়া লাগিয়ে পালে …”
[Touch my sail with your fresh gush of wind…]

He had often heard his mother sing this song of Tagore, never being aware that it had penetrated deep within his soul.

After trying for about half an hour, his kite started flying higher and higher. He felt that the kite was his own self, trying to cross the visible atmosphere. He wished that he could sit on his kite and fly away to the unknown space. However his fantasy was broken by another notorious kite,which forcefully cut across his specially polished thread.Suddenly he lost control over his kite and it flew out of his sight few moments later. He felt a tremendous pain in his tender heart. Never had he felt such pain. He looked up and asked his dear God, “WHY?” His eyes became red with pain and anger. But God seemed to respond to his question. A song flashed in his mind,

“আমার মুক্তি আলোয় আলোয় এই আকাশে …”
[ My liberation is radiance in the horizon…]

The song calmed his mind. He now felt the freedom of his kite which had torn away from the threads of bondage. His pain subdued a little and he recalled that his one hour was over by now. He was surprised that his mother didnt call him yet.

He came downstairs and was shocked to see many of his relatives gathered around his dear grandpa. He stood by his mother, who whispered that his grandpa has gone to heaven. His face lit up and there was a broad smile on his face. His father gave him a stern and angry look. His smile vanished. But he kept smiling within, thinking hard how his grandpa’s “soul-kite” had managed to break-free from the “bodily-reel”. He was further sure that grandpa’s soul had flown to heaven, using his kite…

At a corner, his aunt sat, singing heavily and slowly,

“বাঁধন ছেঁড়ার সাধন হবে,
ছেড়ে যাব তীর মাভৈ – রবে…”

 

 

Written by: Annisha

Photograph: Abhijit

 

The Kite    |    Annisha    |    Abhijit    |    https://pandulipi.net    |    Emotional    |    English    |    Story

Translations from geetabitan.com

Author: admin_plipi

25 thoughts on “The Kite

  1. Nice writing. In our childhood days, we stayed at burdwan , India. We the brothers and sisters flew kites. We assisted our brothers in rolling the spool. Those days were dug out and reminded back. Awsome piece of writing. Now we are so grown up and far away in foreign countries. We hardly get those flavours here. forgot all our childhood days. It reminded me all. Liked how the author added lyrics of Rabindrasangeet. I tried in my mind to sing them. Found that those lyrics are long forgotten. Ashamed of myself, ashamed of being out of so lovely bengali culture. Thanks for such a piece of writing. Welldone .

    1. Thanks a lot for your precious observation. It’s my pleasure that u took out ur valuable time to compliment me. And it’s my pleasure too that u could relate to your childhood days,and to our rich Bengali culture… Thanks for your presence…

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  3. Excellent. The body soul connection is nicely depicted from a child’s point of view. Such a thoughtful piece of work presented in a lucid and sweet language. Story telling is very smooth and interesting. The picture of the boy running with a kite has carried me in my childhood.

  4. A splendid story written with the perfect employment of allegory, it definitely causes a significant in the mind of readers, especially the usage of Rabindra Sangeet makes the story all the more lucid and it has the most systematic version of rhythm that every reader seek for, thereby making it an amazing piece to read.
    Best wishes for future endeavors

  5. Well written, doesn’t seem like it’s your first attempt at writing. Looking forward for the next one to come. Well done dear!

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