We, in the springs or our own lives, understood. Our kites were extensions of us, and they, like us, wanted to fly, and fly now. They waited impatiently on the ground, animated by the tempting breezes, having to be restrained by hands, knees, rocks, sticks, or whatever might serve to squelch their incessant squirming.
They needed to know that their freedom and impulses would destroy them if not controlled. But, they rebelled until at last it would be time for the much anticipated and long awaited launch. Once airborne, it was a challenge, a competition even, to see whose kite could climb the highest and stay aloft the longest. For those less fortunate, the challenge was simply to get off the ground.
Embarrassing though it may have been, some of us ultimately had to admit defeat. Our miscalculations had cost us our day, our joy, even our pride. We would have to try again tomorrow. Saddened, we failed to realize that, although we thought we needed to fly, we needed to crash even more.
We paid with our pride, but our loss forced us to acquire the nobility required to accept defeat graciously. For others though, the launch, usually a massive one in a sudden gust of wind, brought immediate joy. They learned their lessons in flight. Apply pressure to soar higher; slacken the line to float aimlessly or sink. Only through constant pressure could we soar; without it we only maintained altitude, or even worse, sank.
But soar they did! My, how they flew! Oh to be with them, up in the pristine sky. But in our idealism, we already were. Feet firmly planted on the orange Cleveland County clay, our hearts had already taken flight. The world slipped from beneath us, and our imaginations took control. And all too often for me, the unwary pilot, the joy of my moment was quickly snatched away as I carelessly ignored the grappling limbs.
In an instant, my kite would be snatched away and held firmly like a trapped moth in the grasp of a tree. Way up in the top, fluttering furiously in the wind, it would remain snagged forever. Ultimately dashed to pieces by the winds of change, my idealism, my impracticality, and my inattention had cost me my kite.
The lessons of kite-flying are simple, yet profound. Kite-flying teaches that freedom must be cherished but also respected. It must be tethered securely to the control line of self-discipline. Otherwise, its benefactors will never appreciate its power both to incarcerate and liberate. Kite-flying also reminds us that if we expect to soar higher in life, we must remember that constant pressure tempers us and makes us stronger through adversity and challenge.
Therefore, we must be willing to welcome or at least embrace a certain measure of risk and change. Always charting a course around the stormy winds of life will surely cause us to level out or sink rather than soar, and we will never learn nor be thankful for the lessons taught only through the eye of the storm. Kite-flying also teaches us the necessity of slackening the line from time to time. If we never rest; if we never take time to reflect or renew; if we never release our firm, controlling grasp on life, we will never be able to let out more line, and consequently, we will never have the additional string necessary to climb.
Unfortunately, kite-flying always involves episodes of kite-crashing, and those intermittent failures teach us how to accept defeat with grace, neither fearing nor fleeing from failure, but instead accepting and embracing it as an inherent component of life.
And finally, kite-flying teaches that idealism must be strung to reason if anything useful is ever to come of it; otherwise, the impracticality of our imaginings will get caught in the branches and flutter forever, of no value to anyone. The winds of Spring can keep us young as we are driven ever higher by the sudden gusts and pressures of kite-flying.
And, hopefully, because of the skills developed over years of practice, when the time comes for us to put our kites away forever, they will resist and cling to the winds of Spring, having to be dragged kicking and screaming from the sky. Competitions of kite flying, bets among friends, and beauty contests among kites add to the spirit of Basant. Basant has earned much fame as to attract the foreign tourists to pack the bags and get on their way to be Basantie.
In Pakistan, notably in Punjab, Basant is considered to be a huge fun. Ladies like to wear special traditional yellow and other colorful dresses. Gents also do some special preparations in this regard. Children are a visual delight on Basant. When the date for Basant is announced, right there starts the preparation to make it as much enjoyable as anyone can think.
The Youth starts gathering kites and all the related accessories. Everyone looks forward to have a great time. Media gives full coverage to Basant festival. Basant is also an inspiration for poets and singers. Kite flying becomes a golden memory of childhood when we are grown up and have no time to enjoy it on daily basis.
In such an alternation of days and nights, Basant festival brings us a chance to relish it as a sweet after some hot chilies and spices.
Kites are made of different materials, embellished with various styles. Children love to learn the art of kite flying and young boys try to be as expert as they can.
People earn and spend a lot of money in this business. In short, it creates a great hustle and bustle among people. Along with all of its Orange flavored festivity, Basant may turns out to be really very bitter at times, if there occurs some unhappy , accidental injury or eventual demise.
The criticism for being a wastage of money and a foreign Indian festival also blemishes the pinkness of Basant. It seems to b poisoned just in Asia, mainly in Pakistan and India. Other countries do not show much interest as to celebrate it as a festival.
"An Essay On Kite Flying" Essays and Research Papers An Essay On Kite Flying Kite festival is one of my favorite festivals which is celebrated on 14th January of every year with colors of joy and colors of .
The flying of the kite in the air also depends upon the person who is flying the kite, he should know how to fly the kite, otherwise no matter for whatever times he/she tries he will not able to fly the kite.
Spring beautifies the Earth with blossoms, and Basant paints the sky with flying brushes named Kites. Young and old equally enjoy it. No matter where you live, the passion for Basant catches you there. Competitions of kite flying, bets among friends, and beauty contests among kites add to . Basant, the festival of kites, is celebrated with great pomp and show in our country. Lacs of rupees are lost by the lovers of kite-flying in a signal day. But that cannot be helped.
Kite flying day is my favorite festival. It is also known as Makarsankranti or Uttarayan. It falls on 14th January every year. The sun moves towards North direction from this day. It is festival of Kites. We buy colorful kites & strong threads. Kite is made of light bamboo sticks and thin papers. The string is coated with a special glass powder and rice paste. Outline: 1- Festivalof kites 2- Favourite festival 3- Experts of trade earn a lot 4- Night before Basant 5- Sad accidents 6- Anxiety to catch a kite.