The kite runner

The kite was floating away and I could just make out the string ‘attached’… dangling like a thread from its past. It swayed away as if having a will of its own. Bare feet I climbed out of my hole in the wall and ran…
The red rhombus seemed to invite me, allure me as it jerked in a loop gaining speed. I ran with the wind in my ears.
Sky was a radiant red on which the puffy clouds seemed like dressing on a wounded beast! I was Ulysses then- to strive, to seek and not to yield.
In my 12 years of existence, it had been a rabbit chase as the carrots moved away, quite mysteriously always! Never had the parental cocoon. Germination with foster parents, uncle from the maternal family tree. The metamorphosis as an individual happened beyond my years.
Growing up in the cross of changes had added to the good luck of my woes. Open economy, the IT boom (crash, boom, bang!!), dirty cash seemed distant from our ‘haveli’ of yesteryears. Lo! I, another brick in the wall, trudged to recreate my dreams, at times even steal it from the clutches of the unknown called ‘faith’! It never seemed to belong to me anyway…
The convent education, electronic armory and smells ‘n tastes of the nouveau riche rubbed on me. No! Not my soul.
I chased the kite, as it spun in sinusoids with a playful zephyr- catch me if you can!
Lanes and by lanes, eyes fixed on the object of desire, I chased… somewhere I didn’t know what I wanted? What I was running for?
My cousin of 22, my dearest possession. I always took her as mine. The affections of a brother were overwhelming but again maybe I held on to her with a virtual demand! Of all those love, relations and tremors I had never had.
And she had painted the canvas with every shade-just for me. Her joys, tears, her demands, requests and dreams all seemed to leave a trail on my gabardine. As if we were into some strange conspiracy, only we shared… some times even the sound of silence.
‘Jitesh likes me you know’ her eyes shine with a tinge of mischief and innocence. ‘A date this Saturday, what say dumbo?’, and I would get the hair ruffled!
‘You know I want to be a journalist. There is so much that we all walk past by everyday and not batter an eye lid. Life is not just page3 or red carpet politico na? The common men with their uncommon lives- dangerously beautiful brother!’ The smile on her face then would have the glow of the morning sun, warm!
With a sudden thrust the kite fell rapidly. Disappearing behind a roof, out of sight! The white house belonged to Mr. Asif Ahmed. Locked for the last six months; he had joined the crème de la crème of the Indian populace and fallen for the green card and green backs.
Near miss! But then ancestral instincts grew strong as the adrenalin rushed to the sinews and limbs, time to scale the walls. I remembered… good fences make good neighbors.
Uncle and aunt had the wars of corporate regime- matured battles of life that left little time for the nuances of life itself to unfurl. Sometimes I wondered if orphan meant me, my sister or the super set?
Her emotions had the softness of caramel, ha-ha… my love for the chocolates. The years added to her beauty but somewhere shelled the mushy Ritika inside. I even played big brother when she would mistake between the matured concepts of love, friendship, infatuation, attraction! How had I known the subtleties? Actually it was a desperate effort to ward off her tears, to shun all those ailments that made her cry… in the process the Vibgyores of life focused on me.
Debates of distant future, crimsons of happiness, promises eternal- all of them! I never separated us! We were on the same boat and that was my happiness. The steer was in her hand… imaginations! I just wanted her to be there forever.
Getting married, all those naughty excitements and wild imaginations, unspoken, but again we would share the frame. Trips to distant lands, cuppa coffee and walking back in time… there would be new faces, relations but somewhere she would be my life line! I always considered us as family- and it would remain that way?
I could not see the kite from the first floor verandah. The beast had donned its black cloak and suddenly it seemed dark! Only a distant blood red, remnant of the day gone by!
‘Asif proposed! Oh my God! You won’t believe! He gave me this ring and just said those magical words… there was so much of emotion in his words, honesty… he looks at me with a warmth as if, you know, I feel just…’ I was not listening anymore.
In love she was! Ain’t no words, no analysis, it was truly, madly, deeply!
She played with the ring, danced around the marble and even let the sound of music reverberate.
I could see the kite. The tentacles of the old television antennae had stopped it for me. For me really? As I walked towards the pillar, I felt the pain for the first time… or was it the second, a familiar sting from where blood was oozing out-caked with dust and dirt! Comfortably numb- world without Floyd? Orphaned!
There were issues of the neo-secular beliefs. But universal love stood out, over and above as ‘parents’ conceded! No one asked me; only the warm smile from my brother-in-law to-be was to be my assurance that she was right in stepping into holy matrimony!
Asif was into some main frame domain that was dominant in US of A! Wow! The world’s most powerful nation- luxuries, advancements, it’s so beautiful- I was told.
‘Deep finish off school and come to US, you can do your graduation there. The entire world would open up for you! Wow na!’
The kite was torn. The paper had been punched badly by the aluminum projections of the idiot box. Still it was fluttering in the wind, as if to free itself for the last flight! A last try.
I had never known tears… never seen death; never had precious moments stolen, never feared cause had little to call my own.
But then the vapors clogged inside. She was going…
From the day I had known about the proposal, a colossal fear had frozen my soul- slowly.
There were colors of every shade in the wedding. There were people with smiles radiant and gifts galore. The blessings poured on the newly weds- to begin a new life?
What about the old? Or really can life be partitioned into phases? The roles changed, characters left out, like some sequel to Hollywood blockbuster?
I took out the kite, with care, with a sense of belonging. The evening breeze tried to shear off the gaping hole in it. But no, I clutched it close and sat near the wall.
She had gone to the land of dreams, with her love, with the vows of a new life… in her joys escaped a moist tear or two and I got a hug, lots n pots of kisses n a good bye.
With the jet plane flying away I realized that 12 years had been a story, a journey as a by stander. It was Her emotions, Her dreams, Her pains and joys I had called my own. I had tried to learn about life just to keep her safe from the pot holes. And now it would be Act2 of her life…
I had run behind the car, could not control… tried to tell her that we were a team! We were supposed to be together, in a frame but then… the thrust of a new beginning left behind the whirlpool of smoke, dust and pain!
She had worn a sari; the colors remained blur… remains a blur even now. With time life has moved but then I still await someone who would again need me to be part of their act.
Or was it time to act out my own? My hole in the wall was damp after the rains but somewhere the smell of my pain mixed with the airs inside… ha!
I sat with the kite; I knew I would not be missed- by people who had the graver battles to fight, who had the phases of life to traverse, ‘cause I still had not written the act of life around myself!
As a tear escaped from the lachrymals, I slowly felt the vapors giving way to the smell of flowers-flowers of the night.
I left the kite and walked back to begin, at last, the journey of my life- jatra suru.