‘Its 6.30 in the morning.
Sun is almost up. All the other family members – grandpa, bibi (mother) and
grandma have left their beds’. Mothu saw their folded bedding on the wooden
cots. They generally got up and left the ‘chatt’- the flat roof of a house,
used by most of the families, in the neighborhood to sleeps in open during the
summers from April to July – an hour ago before Mothu opened his eyes to the
day. He was listening to the noises from the kitchen below, half of a room on
the first floor of the house. The front half was open to the sky and served as
landing space for the stairs going down up to the ground floor.
The sound of pounding of onions, ginger and garlic in a small stone kundi was the daily wake up call for Mothu. Grandpa would sit on the landing and do this job after his bath before getting ready to go for the work. Grandma must be stirring the set boiled milk in an earthen pot for butter. Occasionally he could hear the water being poured into the tank made in a wall in the kitchen towards the far end – area used for cooking. There was also a chimney on the other side for the smoke from the coal fired small angithi (furnace) on the other side. His mother must be fetching water from the municipal tap in the street, just a few houses away. Mothu’s house was the dead end of the street of twenty houses.
Suddenly from the corner of his eyes he saw a big kite flying overhead. ‘Where is the processed thread I got yesterday?’ Mothu was relieved that the 25 yards of thread he got yesterday from his kite seller and the kite was in the barsaati – a small covered part of the roof to store the beddings and cots and also to sleep under in case of sudden showers. There was a strong urge to fly his kite as well. Mothu got from his bed, looked around and saw quite a few kites already in the sky. This was the beginning of the summer vacation and kids were already up before time – they were always late for getting up during normal school days – and starting making best of the vacation.
Mothu however had a problem, he had strict instructions not to fly kite except in the evening. Its only on this condition, grandma had relented after half an hour of pestering to give him 5 annas (one rupee had 16 annas and each anna 4 paise) to buy his manjha and the kite. He had very little time to put his skills to test, the big kite was already up for the last 15 minutes and sun was about to cover the whole roof quickly. Already there were two calls for him to get up and come down. Mothu took out his flute and stated blowing in to it keeping his hands free for the kite, already made ready to fly. Noise from the flute convinced his mother down stairs that he was awake and just trying to figure out playing flute.
His small kite was up in the sky in no time with only 25 yards of “armored thread” in front to ward off any aggressive move from another kite. Rest of the thread had no powdered glass stuck with glue on it and would snap off in a single sweep. Mothu was thinking fast, his mouth blowing into the flute, eyes fixed on the big kite, which has noticed the small intruder in its space and his arms and hands maneuvering his own kite so that the first touch between the two is on his manjha. Of course he could see that the other kite was flying on complete manjha which Mothu could ill afford. The moment of his test seem to be coming closer. He could see from the corner of his eye that the 'big' had noticed him and decided to do away with him first before going forward with other conquests. Now Mothu was nervous. He was not sure of getting another allowance for the next one week at least to get his kite and manjha. If he looses his kite he will be sitting quiet in the evenings on the roof of his house watching other kids all around enjoying their kites in the sky. But he also knew that in his class – he completed eight years in the Feb. – he was good at kites. Then also the fact that he could make his grandmother give him an other allowance may be with a little reprimand.
Thus the decision was made in Mothus head and he stopped avoiding the big kite. Next moment it swooped on Mothu's kite was already positioned for the contact at manjha. The touch of two different threads instantly sent a sensation through Mothu’s fingers holding the thread. The only reflex in this case and situation was to pull the thread fast and with force. Mothu did as it was planned and wired in his system. He knew that any delay – even fraction of a second – is fatal in this combat.
Suddenly Mothu found the sensation of two rubbing threads no more passing on to his finger. And he looked up, there was only his kite above, the 'big' floating direction less away from his kite and going down. There was sudden commotion all around. 'Mothu has won, and he humbled Gaama. Bravo Mothu' came the cry from the kids around. Gaama ! Mothu looked back. Few roofs away, the biggest kite flier known in the city was gathering the thread and as soon as he saw Mothu’s diminutive figure standing on his cot he gave him a symbolic salute and said Bravo.
Many years later Mothu, a senior researcher in a Govt. Lab, 1000 miles way from his small town, can still feel the reverberations of that applause and a very gracious way of accepting defeat by a champion from a small child. This exhilarating feeling of ten minutes and the whole scenario of that morning have etched in Mothu’s memory. In the middle of his life now, Mothu finds himself playing the scene again and again when he feels miserable and down. These moments never failed him. He has always come out better, little less depressed, little more prepared to face a difficult situation in his life.
This small incident made this young boy a hero in the neighborhood. Gaama came with his friends to Mothu’s house the same evening and congratulated Mothu on his triumph in the morning. Appreciated his kite flying skills. He left 500 yards of manjha for Mothu as a gift. In a way Gaama expanded the opportunity space of Mothu in kite flying 20 times!
Treasure the exhilarating moments of life and play these again and again to propel one out of sticky situations.
The sound of pounding of onions, ginger and garlic in a small stone kundi was the daily wake up call for Mothu. Grandpa would sit on the landing and do this job after his bath before getting ready to go for the work. Grandma must be stirring the set boiled milk in an earthen pot for butter. Occasionally he could hear the water being poured into the tank made in a wall in the kitchen towards the far end – area used for cooking. There was also a chimney on the other side for the smoke from the coal fired small angithi (furnace) on the other side. His mother must be fetching water from the municipal tap in the street, just a few houses away. Mothu’s house was the dead end of the street of twenty houses.
Suddenly from the corner of his eyes he saw a big kite flying overhead. ‘Where is the processed thread I got yesterday?’ Mothu was relieved that the 25 yards of thread he got yesterday from his kite seller and the kite was in the barsaati – a small covered part of the roof to store the beddings and cots and also to sleep under in case of sudden showers. There was a strong urge to fly his kite as well. Mothu got from his bed, looked around and saw quite a few kites already in the sky. This was the beginning of the summer vacation and kids were already up before time – they were always late for getting up during normal school days – and starting making best of the vacation.
Mothu however had a problem, he had strict instructions not to fly kite except in the evening. Its only on this condition, grandma had relented after half an hour of pestering to give him 5 annas (one rupee had 16 annas and each anna 4 paise) to buy his manjha and the kite. He had very little time to put his skills to test, the big kite was already up for the last 15 minutes and sun was about to cover the whole roof quickly. Already there were two calls for him to get up and come down. Mothu took out his flute and stated blowing in to it keeping his hands free for the kite, already made ready to fly. Noise from the flute convinced his mother down stairs that he was awake and just trying to figure out playing flute.
His small kite was up in the sky in no time with only 25 yards of “armored thread” in front to ward off any aggressive move from another kite. Rest of the thread had no powdered glass stuck with glue on it and would snap off in a single sweep. Mothu was thinking fast, his mouth blowing into the flute, eyes fixed on the big kite, which has noticed the small intruder in its space and his arms and hands maneuvering his own kite so that the first touch between the two is on his manjha. Of course he could see that the other kite was flying on complete manjha which Mothu could ill afford. The moment of his test seem to be coming closer. He could see from the corner of his eye that the 'big' had noticed him and decided to do away with him first before going forward with other conquests. Now Mothu was nervous. He was not sure of getting another allowance for the next one week at least to get his kite and manjha. If he looses his kite he will be sitting quiet in the evenings on the roof of his house watching other kids all around enjoying their kites in the sky. But he also knew that in his class – he completed eight years in the Feb. – he was good at kites. Then also the fact that he could make his grandmother give him an other allowance may be with a little reprimand.
Thus the decision was made in Mothus head and he stopped avoiding the big kite. Next moment it swooped on Mothu's kite was already positioned for the contact at manjha. The touch of two different threads instantly sent a sensation through Mothu’s fingers holding the thread. The only reflex in this case and situation was to pull the thread fast and with force. Mothu did as it was planned and wired in his system. He knew that any delay – even fraction of a second – is fatal in this combat.
Suddenly Mothu found the sensation of two rubbing threads no more passing on to his finger. And he looked up, there was only his kite above, the 'big' floating direction less away from his kite and going down. There was sudden commotion all around. 'Mothu has won, and he humbled Gaama. Bravo Mothu' came the cry from the kids around. Gaama ! Mothu looked back. Few roofs away, the biggest kite flier known in the city was gathering the thread and as soon as he saw Mothu’s diminutive figure standing on his cot he gave him a symbolic salute and said Bravo.
Many years later Mothu, a senior researcher in a Govt. Lab, 1000 miles way from his small town, can still feel the reverberations of that applause and a very gracious way of accepting defeat by a champion from a small child. This exhilarating feeling of ten minutes and the whole scenario of that morning have etched in Mothu’s memory. In the middle of his life now, Mothu finds himself playing the scene again and again when he feels miserable and down. These moments never failed him. He has always come out better, little less depressed, little more prepared to face a difficult situation in his life.
This small incident made this young boy a hero in the neighborhood. Gaama came with his friends to Mothu’s house the same evening and congratulated Mothu on his triumph in the morning. Appreciated his kite flying skills. He left 500 yards of manjha for Mothu as a gift. In a way Gaama expanded the opportunity space of Mothu in kite flying 20 times!
Treasure the exhilarating moments of life and play these again and again to propel one out of sticky situations.