The Kite

Tears streamed down twelve-year-old Seema’s face. She looked at her torn kite and took it from the ditch.

 It was one of those afternoons on a summer day, the kids had a kite flying contest. Seema too had a brand-new kite; it was special as Paapa and she had spent hours together making it and laughing as he recounted how they would get beaten as they even skipped school to fly kite.

Seema felt sad that all the hard work had gone in vain, being at the threshold of adolescence she felt responsible for the damage, she felt responsible as now she understood the value of money spent on the materials used to make it.

Mummy often complained of not having enough money to buy Seema whatever she asked for.

She felt sad that she hadn’t taken it home in one piece and made it last a few more days.

She screamed “Paapa, I’m so sorry I tore the brand-new kite.”

Paapa hugged her and asked “was it fun flying it?”

She said “yes” “Then be happy that you had a great time. Go back enjoy, let’s make another one later. It was fun with you.”

Seema was perplexed.

 This simple question took her back to the lovely time she had earlier that day. She understood that there’s no price to be paid for feeling happy. She understood that it’s the happy moments that mattered in life. 

Time flew and a thirty-year-old Seema hugged her ten-year-old son who said “Mummy we had a bicycle riding competition, I fell from my new bicycle, it was so much fun.”

Seema smiled as she knew that she was raising a happy child and thanked her Paapa in heaven for teaching her this invaluable lesson.
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2 Thoughts to “The Kite”

  1. JDRao

    A short story very beautifully conveying the transitions across the generations. A mirror for introspecting in today’s world – should the Destination be enjoyed or the Journey? Finally, the clear message – Enjoy the moment.

  2. neethu abraham

    It’s good to be reminded that happiness is most often found in the little things of life. The stories of thrill, excitement and memories behind a scratched knee, a torn kite, a bruised hand, a cut leg… Thank you.

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