‘ It’ s alright. Your reaction is justified. Yes, I am a kid and I made all those kites.’ He replied and moved towards a heap enveloped with a white cotton cloth. With a swift jerk of his tiny hands he uncovered what was lying under the massive white fabric- There they were. The Kites. Red, yellow, pink, blue- kites of all colors with their silver hologram reflecting rays of sun proudly upon the looker’ s eyes. Shrey was stunned. He moved closer towards the heap and bent down on his knees.
‘ But how ….’ Shrey stammered,‘ how di-did you do all off t-that?’ he held out his hands and spread his fingers to touch the kites.‘ I found a secret technique’ the kid pronounced evenly through his mask. Shrey picked up one of the red kites and touched the silver shining hologram. It was authentic.‘ I don’ t know what to say’ Shrey murmured.‘ I know what you want to ask’ the kid uttered as he sat on the floor and crossed his legs. Shrey mirrored his actions and sat down in front of him.
‘ Do you mind if I take a picture?’ Shrey blurted suddenly and took the camera off his neck.‘ Sure. Why else do you think I’ m wearing this.’ that kids little finger pointed to his mask. Shrey took two pictures and already saw his editor’ s skepticism over the entire story.‘ You forgot your question’ The kid spoke calmly,‘ You didn’ t ask about my secret technique?’. As soon as Shrey turned off his camera, the kid raised his hands, unfastened the knots on his head, and pulled off the mask. A radiating face with a pair of mystifying dark brown eyes was now facing Shrey with a gentle smile.
Shrey’ s eyes widened and a glint of smile formed on his face as he nodded‘ Do you know what’ s my personal favorite amongst everything?’ the kid looked at the heap of kites and declared,‘ It’ s the stickers. You know why? Because it is the only thing I created on my own. The paper used in the kites is brought from a local shopkeeper, so is the thread roll.’ he confessed, naively.‘ But... how is that possible. I flew one of your kites myself and I’ ve always been bad at it. But the moment I took your kite in the air, it was like I was gliding in the air and not the kite. For a moment, it seemed like I was waltzing with the winds.’ Shrey admitted eagerly.
‘ You see. This is what it’ s all about. People believe that something is special because they are told so. None of the person who flew it thought that maybe it was not the kite that was special but them, the person flying it. They believed in the power of a nonliving substance more than they believed in
themselves. I only gave them an ordinary kite, telling that it was special and they believed. This was what turned an amateur into a decent flyer, and expert into a professional. This is the power of belief. So, I only gave them what they wanted and in turn, they gave the credit of their abilities to a tangible substance.’ the kid finished with a wash of dismay over his face.
Shrey’ s facial muscles relaxed and he looked out at the open sky.‘ If you don’ t mind, can I ask another question?’ Shrey asked composedly,‘ Aren’ t you too young for this sort of wisdom?’‘ Maybe I’ m a sorcerer, like most of them claim.’ the kid burst out into fits of laughter and shrey couldn’ t help but follow along.‘ So are you going to write all this in your column?’ he asked.
‘ I don’ t know. Maybe. Let’ s fly a kite together and I’ ll decide over it.’ Shrey picked a black kite and stood up. The Kite Runner smiled and nodded.
Swati Rawat swati @ chiiz. com
A regular 24 year old stranger only with untamable curls battling existential crisis every waking hour. When I’ m not working or sleeping or eating, I write to make sense out of my cluttered thoughts.
Prateek Kashyap New Delhi, India
Coloring The Skies Canon EOS 60D 20mm F / 6.3 1 / 125s ISO200