A KITE ON A WALL..!
Many times as I sit on my terrace, I see a kite slowly coming my way and as I gaze at it, I see sadness on its paper face, "I'm lost!" it seems to cry, "I was flying high when someone with another kite and stronger thread came and cut me!"
It hovers over me and I look up and whisper, "Come down little kite, come down and I will look after you!" Quite often, the kite sways dances with the little wind that has pushed it so far, then lands a few feet from me. "Now you are safe!," I say and promptly cut the sharp thread that is still attached to it, like a doctor cutting a newborn's umbilical chord, and take the kite downstairs.
"Where are you taking me?," asks the kite anxiously and I laugh, "Don't worry, little fellow, I'm taking you to a place where no one will harm you, no thread cut you, where you will never find yourself landing on some tree with the elements of nature cruelly waiting to destroy you!"
"Thank you!," sighs the kite, as I hang it on a nail in the wall, along with a dozen others who also came down to seek sanctuary with me. ,p> But today, as I passed the kites on the wall, one or two of them actually had tears flowing down. "What's wrong?," I asked sharply. "We miss the breeze that lifts us up, the wind that carries us into the sky, we miss looking down at the earth below!"
"Oh yeah!," I said harshly, "How quickly you forget the swish of another stronger than you, the slice of thread as it cuts into you and makes you float powerlessly away. How quickly you've forgotten lying lifeless, helpless on some tree or antenna, allowing monsoon winds to rip you open, slowly, bit by bit, till each part of you is split and finally bamboo frame falls to the ground dead! You miss that?"
And as I looked closely I saw my words had not wiped those tears away, "You miss that?" I shouted, angry.
"We miss," said an orange kite, "The exhilarating feeling, as we soar, the challenge of being the highest in the sky, we miss, yes the competition of another and the joy of victory as we know we are stronger!"
"But you are safe here!," I shouted.
"This is not where we are meant to be," said the orange kite, the spokesman of the dozen that hung on my wall, "We should be up there!" I saw a young boy outside, and called out to him, "Take," I shouted and gave him all the kites, "Go fly them, they aren't meant to be dead decorations on my wall!"
"Child of God, are you a dead decoration somewhere, a kite on a wall, scared to venture into a new job, start a business or commit yourself to somebody, or do you fly high, risking it all to be up there, because you know who holds your thread?"
I look up and see a dozen kites, joy writ on their faces..!