Go fly a kite!

I somehow have this feeling that more than a few pair of eyes are going to read this particular post and that, I hope will not make me alter my narration even subtly, for, I think, every descriptive piece of writing, carries with it its inherent, special charm only as long as its written without a conscious effort to relate events appropriately rather than accurately. My disclaimer ends here and my narrative begins below.

Day 1: Let me introduce myself, I am the sewing machine in the house and I have worked non-stop for three days. I was rented by two young people a few days back and the old lady who owns me did not want to part with me, atleast thats what I thought as she rambled on, telling the young bespectacled lad how to use me. "You keep the bobbin here and you use the lever thus..." and more such mundane details, I don't think the girl on the phone is interested, she is hardly listening. I think she thinks I cannot stitch a kite that can fly or maybe she is not a kite-person...

Day 2: Ah, company. I now also have another lad and a young girl working for me. Specky (thats what I have named the first one) is excited, he wants to make his kite the best kite in Georgetown, the lad and the girl share his excitement. I sense, the girl on the phone still is not convinced...I have been working for 3 hours now and am proud of my product, a red and yellow wannabe kite. It is interesting to listen to them chat about various things under the sun, kite aerodynamics being the topic under scrutiny now.

Day 3: I bid goodbye, a beautiful, pulsating kite is ready now to leave its nest and fly high. I smile because I think I finally see a believer in the girl-on-the-phone.

Since the main event for the first three days was the making of the kite, personifying the sewing machine seemed to be one way to describe the process. Several of us had decided to meet and go to the Georgetown Kite Festival. What follows is a smorgasbord of scenes, moods, sensory perceptions, emotions through the capricious eyes of yours truly...

Cheerful sunlight, friendly voices greeting each other, melody playing at a distance, perfectly complimented by kites adorning the perfect blue shade of the sky - kites in all shapes and colors flew hither thither, sometimes flirting with one another, sometimes giving each other the cold shoulder and sometimes hugging each other like old friends - a scene from fairyland, an old couple's paradise, a child's dream come true.

We ambitiously embarked on our project - making our kite fly. After a few futile attempts to cajole our proud kite to fly, we decided to fly the ones that would fly. Specky's kites found homes in different excited albeit amateurish hands, clumsily attempting to pull their kites up, slowly learning the tricks, maneuvering the string, unaware of the satisfied smile playing on their lips when their kites eventually soared high...there is something about making a kite fly, somewhat akin to setting a bird free, like releasing your mind from the shackes of self-imposed captivities.

Having tired ourselves, we proceeded to eat with relish, the picnic food that we had packed, delicious whiffs of puliyodarai and tomato rice tickled our senses and, needless to say, the food disappeared quickly.

And the story gathers momentum now, after more than half the day had passed. While I enjoyed the first half of the day, the more mentally gratifying experience for me was the result of a board game, Loaded questions. The point of the game is simple, ask a question, each person in the group answers it and one person has to guess who answered what. Yes, it is a game to get to know each other better. But, its also a game that reveals startling facts, insights into the other person's psyche. For me, it is like an opportunity to peek into someone's head for a few moments and wonder at the images that greet me, maybe relate to them and forge new bonds?

Loaded questions started with the requisite amount of fanfare and we were soon drenched in a flood of questions...What would you title your autobiography? What is the most romantic place on earth to meet your true love? What compliment do you receive the most? What have you always wanted to do but could not? - questions attempting to explore a bit more, to walk a few furlongs farther into each person's mental roadmap. Fantasies and visual images competed to be complimented and acknowledged - terrace in the moonlight, a hand gently clasping another, Highlands of Scotland, Venice and Greece, old friends fondly remembered, past romance kindled, subtle hints thrown askance and time stood still...

And if you are wondering about specky's proud kite, he has a beautiful bronze plaque sitting on his shelf that says "First Place, Youth Kite Making Competition". I have, perhaps, observed the whole day through rose tinted glasses and sweet fragrance, but my heart demands that I write such and my pen follows its dictate.

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