Kite Flyers

Childhood. The pure innocent pleasures of playful games. Incandescent discovery of the big, wide world. The realities of childhood are not uniform for all kids. In Developed nations like Australia, most are afforded the opportunity to play and learn in a safe, tender and ultimately structured environment based on a framework of what society believes is the optimum developmental mix. The world is not as black and white for most young Indians. Growing up in Bombay’s infamous urban slums means most simple joys of childhood are superseded by a raw battle for survival . Forced to beg for pity, working amongst toxic fumes in the traffic stuck at Bombay’s jammed intersections. Otherwise youngsters spend the day caring for younger siblings, traversing dirty slum laneways, as their mother travels long distances out of the slum every day to earn money as domestic help or in a textile factory. Just to shelter and feed the family.

It goes without saying that these kids do not get showered in material toys at birthdays, Christmas or other religious festivals throughout the year. Such events do not consist of glutinous consumption. Devoid of high-tech gadgets, these kids can instead revert to their fleeting childhoods, indulging in simples pleasures.

 Kite flying. Every year on the 15^th January it is a special day in India’s cacophony of religious festivals and rituals. For Hindus it is the festival of Markarsancanti, the celebration of Shiva ‘s birthday. Also celebrated by Punjabis as Lohdi, by Brahmins, and even Southern Indians as Pungal, their New Year. And so this is the festival of Kites, the one day of the year that the children of India put into practice their kite flying skills. Childish regression, all at once.  

These birds of prey are not super strong, nor particularly aero-dynamic. Most probably completely different to anything you’d find in a store in Australia. They are simple contraptions made of thin paper not dissimilar to tissue paper, held together by wooden sticks. On this day, kids fly kites from the roof tops of slums, on the edges of freeways, or the beach. Many end up caught in power lines. Pure, playful pleasure.