For this, a thousand times over

A heady, enchanting mixture of curses, yells and kitesperanto issuing from his lips. It was awe-inspiring to watch.

Bursting with life, tugging at the thin long thread vanishing into the sky, he had the bright autumn sun as his background. The moment was captured in my eyes to remain forever.

I was a spectator that day - I couldn't fly kites even if my life depended on it.

The light green kite - which was ours - looked the prettiest in the azure sky, dancing with each deft pull of my cousin's fingers, but then again beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

The kite is mine, not because it is beautiful - It is beautiful because it is mine. The same could be said for love. Someone loves a girl not because she is beautiful. No, not at all. She is beautiful (for him) because he loves her.

We felt like kings of the world, standing triumphantly (for no good reason) atop the deserted four-storey building. In those marvelous moments, we had not a care in the world - the past did not matter nor did the future, for this was what was to be lived - the glorious present.

Cliched but oh-so-true.

A war of kites was raging high above, too far for me to get involved. But my cousin - his eyes shone with a madness that I could associate with no emotion I had the fortune of experiencing before. It was pure pure ecstasy. And the freshness of youth which seemed to say - 'I can do anything in the world !'.

It was magical.

Maybe this was what independence meant.


Quicksilver said...

By the way, I coined 'kitesperanto' myself as I was aghast at not finding any words meaning 'kite lingo' in the dictionary.

kitesperanto = kite + esperanto .

presto, we have a new word.