My Kite Runner

I was standing on the terrace, facing west, holding the camera close to my eye and capturing the sun's rays piercing through the thick clouds. The effect was splendid, the golder rays against the pale clouds, the weather was pleasant after a heavy shower in the afternoon. A cool breeze was blowing and there a few birds soaring high in the sky and a few kites.

Suddenly I hear a voice, "Didi, didi patang kahaan hai?''

There was a tiny boy, in a white vest and dark shorts, waiting eagerly for me to answer. I look at him and point at a black kite flying in the sky. He looks up and then looks at me, ''Arre wo nahi, wo jo kat kar gayi thi wo'', he retorts after my stupid response.

Realising that I won't be of any help he starts looking around and finally finds it. He picks it up and yells, "Mil gayi!!" He then jumps over a few walls and disappears. I go back to to clicking pictures. A few minutes later, I hear the same voice again, "Didi, main bhi patang uda raha hoon!" I look towards him, and see him fervently pulling at the strings, and trying to lift off the kite in the air. Unfortunately, the winds don't seem to assist him but he keeps trying again and again. He sucks in some air, jerks at the string and forces the kite forward. And again. Minutes pass. And then suddenly, a gust of wind comes and the kite's flying high in the sky. He looks at me gleefully, his expression, asking me to capture his accomplishment. And I click.

How pleasing is a child's innocence, happiness and free spirit. There's a sense of assurance, a sense of purity and divinity that a child carries around him and within him. And when you embrace the child (through hugs or kisses or words or in my case clicking photos), you get to experience the same free spirit that livens up the young soul.

p.s. I wish I could post the pics I clicked that day, but sadly they are lying far away, thousands of miles away, in some hard drive :(

The picture you see in the post has been taken from here.

p.p.s. This incident happened long before I read The Kite Runner. It is in no way related to the novel, except for the title of the post!

Insomia Attack

The clock on the bottom right corner of the screen reads 1:30 AM as I start writing this.

On the orientation of my first day in college, we were made to do this psychometric test, which would reveal our personality types.. Are we introvert/extrovert.. I wish there was some test to find out whether I am a born insomniac or a self proclaimed one. Either way it is a bad thing.

As they say.. you work hard through the day, you sleep well through the night. Is it really just that?

Or the reason behind a good night's sleep is that your mind is calm and ready to rest. Your thoughts are clear and you're really glad the way your day went. I can't fall asleep until I've mopped my mind clear of the crap that's clogged in the crevices of my brain. It helps when there is something nice, something happy, something positive to read at my bedside. If not it's twisting and turning for hours in the bed unless the brain's too tired to stay awake and finally shuts itself down. But by then, the dawn's already there and when healthy people are waking up to the chirping of the birds, I'm dozing as the sun peeps up into the sky.

I remember my childhood days when sleeping on the terrace or out in the open was big treat ( It would still be if I get the chance). The only companion one had was the wide dark sky, embedded with stars. There is no metaphor to explain the feeling. I could try to be a little lyrical and compare the stars with sparkling diamonds or angels smiling or something similar that comes easily to poets. But I don't think the experience can be explained in any way other than to experience it thyself! And it was fun to point out the different stars and constellation that we'd studied in school. At my grandmother's place.. we used get up to the mewing sounds of peacocks every morning... sigh.. Those will remain one of the best wake up calls in my life.