Kites Inc.
Dear diary
I have for long not written anything… perhaps I am growing old. And yet I am only 23. Perhaps, it’s the climate, the heat… and yet I feel so cold.
I have been wondering about my life too often. What is it that one wants from life? A permanent state of bliss, where all entropy in the world is just a minor irritation… or is it stray incidences of sheer joy which act as catalysts, encouraging us to go on forever, looking in nooks and corners of this universe to find a hidden moment of pleasure, anonymous moments of truth and beguiling stances of togetherness and love.
Perhaps it is neither. Perhaps life is all about a search for who we really are. For example, I am sitting here. Alone. A thousand thoughts passing my mind. A thousand truths revealing every blink of an eye. And yet I feel that all I have ever known and been is a lie.
We work all our lives, trying to impress imaginary audiences. Trying to pleasure unknown lovers… trying to snap out of the lies that we surround ourselves with… killing ourselves with the intoxications of pressures and hanging on to slivers of self respect.
Why would we humiliate ourselves like that? Why one day we wake up and feel cornered. Like there was no way to go? Is it all really necessary?
I have been having this insuppressible urge to fly kites. I flew them when I was a kid. Red, green, blue - paper, plastic, sticks and strings… Innocent pleasures of reckless abandon. And sometimes I feel I could do anything to be there once again. Stop lamenting over the things I have lost, the heart that once died inside of me and the lies that I have heard and told over the years.
Watch a solitary blue coloured kite soar into the clear blue of a burning hot afternoon. Sweat myself dry, feeling the lost joy of a forgotten childhood.
I want to fly that kite, which ties me to the power of the wind. Yanks my fingers and cuts through to remind me that I still bleed. I want to fly that kite.
I want to be liberated.
- Neha