The Corona Catch: Kite Flying Amidst This Pandemic

In 2007, the historical event of Basant was banned in Pakistan. This court-ordered limitation happened as a result of the deaths of several people because of the use of strings coated with glass. In the many years since this court ruling, animated discussion springs up every year tinged with nostalgia around an event so dear to many. And, as springtime emerges, it was only natural that the topic of Basant make a resurgence in newspapers and drawing rooms across Pakistan. However, this time around, the subject of conversation has been dominated by something else – the current coronavirus pandemic. 

The craft of kite making:

Just last year, the government of Punjab announced a reversal of the ban on the Basant festival. Citizens in the city were thrilled, but their excitement was short-lived. Not only was the decision overturned almost immediately, but kite makers reported facing violence from the police upon continuing to craft and create kites. 

When looked at closely, it is instantly apparent – the art of making kites is a cornerstone of the local culture in the province, and on a larger scale, in the country. The craft is not for just about anyone – it is usually one taught from generation to generation and passed down as livelihood and a form of art.

Different areas use different motifs and designs and excel at creating various styles of kites. Looking back past the year of the notorious Basant ruling, you could have looked to the sky and seen various shapes dancing through the air; the traditional Punjabi patang, or perhaps the pari or the children’s favourite, the tifli kup.

The notoriety of kites comes from an off-the-books activity during Basant known as kite fighting. The rules of the game are simple – two people will fight, and fly their kites in such a way that their dori (the string used to fly kites) entangles – the catch is, the kite then can cut through the string wins. To make thread do this, kite makers would either apply sharpening materials to the thread or use a metallic one instead. This resulted in several horrific injuries on unsuspecting passers-by, triggering the decision of the courts to ban the entire festival altogether. 

The classic nature of kite flying:

Let’s go back to what defines and iconizes this cultural event – the kite flying. Around the world, flying kites is a symbolic homage to the spring season – the high winds, beautiful skies, and vibrant landscapes provide the perfect backdrop for colourful kites to light up the day. 

Kite flying is no modern innovation; it has its roots in the deep trenches of the subcontinent’s history. The Punjab area, being mainly agricultural, has always celebrated the coming of spring as it meant the arrival of a new harvest. Several miniature paintings from the times of the Mughal kings depict people flying kites – not only was it an indicator of happiness and prosperity (the new harvest), but even perhaps a symbol of wealth and fortune.

The corona catch:

As we trace the history of festivals and springtime activities, we land back on to the world of today. This world is one riddled with panic, ushered inside with the fear of a pandemic claiming more and more lives every day, with the news channels reporting the grim severity of the situation, and our phones alight at night with devastating takes on a worldwide health crisis. There is little to no conversation about Basant this year, and it’s easy to understand why – why talk about a banned festival when even being able to walk out onto the streets is a luxury? 

As the majority of the human race lives through a global shutdown, perhaps it is not such a bad time to look back at the world of Basant – or the very least the charm of kite flying. As we all sit at home, scrolling through our social media, consuming more TV and film than ever, we are also riddled with anxiety. Everywhere we look, we see chaos and devastation. We are becoming more and more conscious of what needs change, whether that’s our large scales systems or our behaviours and thoughts and ideas of the world. Right now, more than ever, it looks as though humanity, as a whole, is struggling. In such a time, perhaps a little outing is needed, one that doesn’t require breaking quarantine and placing other human beings at risk. 

Our nostalgia with kites:

There is a sense of romantic nostalgia associated with kites in Punjab; there is no denying it. Many still remember the exact feeling that flying a kite in the afternoon during the warm spring day brings. It wasn’t just a feel-good visual experience after all, what makes the act of kite flying so nostalgic is the deeply enriched sense of community it provided. Everyone would be out on the streets, there would be plenty of food and drink to enjoy, and it gave all involved a sense that they weren’t struggling alone. The communal feeling was that the coming of spring, or the arrival of the new harvest, were victories that the community had won together, as a whole. As we’ve grown older and lost much of the community settings deeply entrenched in the local culture, the sentimentality around Basant is easy to understand. 

We are adaptable, and so are the kites:

Human beings have consistently proven one thing more than anything else in the world – we are a species that is willing to do what it needs to survive. And there is no better way of exemplifying this than the comprehensive understanding that self-isolation will not only save each person but can help entire communities survive. Our traditions and our culture, like us, are adaptable. Kite flying is no exception to this rule. With humanity locked away in their homes, there is no better time to get in touch with the art and deep history behind kite flying. 

It is very likely the Basant festival will probably never be reinstated again. In essence, this does not mean the tradition, and joy and achievement the act of kite flying signifies are lost. Perhaps it is time we brought back this tradition and made it our own – flying kites from our own homes, from our rooftops, seeing the skies come alive once again. Perhaps the sight of the colourful patang against the blue sky is just what we need in the dreary silence of this lockdown.