I remember being bundled in a blue parka, and other children running around me. I was the only one with my both my parents following me around. And I was the only one dressed fairly warmly, despite the deceiving sun it was minty cold in India. Clutched between one of my fist was a spool, while I hugged the shiniest metallic kite anyone could ever have. I remember running around the field, in a ridiculous attempt of trying to fly my kite higher than ever. Then I watched my kite ripped right in the middle, as it hit a branch of a really tall tree. The very sight made me almost tear up.
I think that was the day I learned that I may have had a really shiny kite, but I really had nothing special. A skill in flying a kite, meant something a lot more to me that day. It was something all the other kids had, but I didn't have. I couldn't see my kite soar high like the other kites.
No comments:
Post a Comment