My Mother's Kite: True Story

That was the kite flying season. And I loved kites a lot. Unfortunately, It was all older guys flying the kites those days. There was no chance that a toddler under 3 years would be given a kite to fly by these older boys. And I wanted to fly the kites desperately. I would stand for hours watching them fly their kites.

This true story happened in 1969. I had turned 3 years old that day. I still remember my 3rd birthday so clearly. These are the very first memories of my life. That is why I decided to pen this true story of my life here.

When I woke up that morning, my mother asked me, "Son, I am making some sweets today on your birthday. Would you like something else also as a present?"

Out of the blue, I said, "Yes, Mama, I would like to fly a kite. So I want a Kite as my birthday present."

My father had already gone to office that morning. So my mother decided to make a kite on her own, at home. She took 6 broomsticks. The brooms those days were made out of sticks taken out of a coconut leaf. So, they were thin and Highly flexible sticks which made good skeleton for my kite.

Then my mother took some yellow, thin papers and cut them in the shape of a kite and stuck to this skeleton. I saw the kite being made. I was very excited and wanted to fly my kite even before my mother had attached the string to the kite. She scolded me and told me to wait till the sticking gum dries up.

I did not leave the table on which she had left the kite to dry. I had to strain my neck to look at the kite placed on top of the table as was barely 2 and a half feet tall. An hour passed.

After over an hour my mother came back and attached a string to the kite. My mother's kite, specifically made for me as my birthday present, was ready to fly. My mother bore a beautiful saree and picked me up In her right hand and my Kite in her left hand, holding it away from my clutches so that I don't spoil it.

We went to the plane grass land near our house at about 2 pm when there was no one there. My mother put me down and told me to stay. Then she tried to fly the kite. My kite flew up in the air majestically. I was thrilled to see it fly. But I had seen so many guys fly like that, right in the same grassland by the older boys. This time, I wanted to fly the kite myself.

I told my mother, "Please let me Fly the Kite."

My mother smiled and gave me the thread of the kite, already flying in air beautifully, to hold. The moment I took control of the kite, it down came the kite crashing from its majestic flight, nose diving into the ground. I felt very bad and started crying. My mother picked me up and wiped my tears away.

She wiped my tears and put me down on the ground when I stopped crying and said, "Son this time I Will help you fly the kite, ok. I will hold the kite and throw it into the air. You just have to pull the string to make it fly."

I did not understand anything my mother said. But I shook my head as if I have understood everything she said.

My mother went and picked up the kite. Then she held the kite up in her hands and told me, "Pull the thread and keep pulling."

Trying my hand at the kite for the first time. I did not know what exactly did she meant by keep pulling. Any way, I pulled the string and my mother threw the Kite high up into the air.

That moment, the kite went up into the air, did a semicircle, and nose dived onto the ground once again. This happened four more times. The 5th time it was my patience that went up in air and nose dived. I sat there and started crying.

In my anger, I said, "I don't want to fly the kite ever again."

My mother understood my frustration. The mother's home made kite was already nicely damaged. She came near me, picked me up and started walking towards home.

My mother said, "Let us go and make a new Kite. OK"

I said, "No. I don't want a Kite ever again."

My mother understood me more than anyone. She tore a piece of paper and made a small paper plane withing the next 2 minutes and showed me how to fly a paper plane.

I didn't need to be taught. I somehow knew how to fly a paper plane. I was excited with it. I went out into the grass land and flew that paper plane, till its nose was damaged. I came back and asked for a new paper plane, which my mother readily made for me. I think that day I played the whole day flying paper planes, at least 6 of them till my mother refused to make another.

Even at 60 years of age, a good 57 years after my 3rd birthday, I still fly paper planes. And every time I fly a paper plane, it reminds me of my mother.

Ah I forgot to mention. I don't know when did my paper flying passion prompted me to fly an aeroplane as pilot sitting inside the aeroplane cockpit. I became a Naval Pilot later at an age of 21 years, and I flew Aeroplane and helicopters for 35 long years. Had my mother not introduced me to paper planes on my 3rd birthday, I would have never even contemplated becoming a pilot.

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