Kai Po Chhe
There is a movie called Kai Po Che. It has three men in it and as yet they are not the three men in my life. I was telling my child the meaning of the film. I have not seen the film and don't know if it is released. My child feels a film is 'releasing' means it is going away from the theatres. 'Release' as in then the prisoner goes away from the jail or the bird flies away from the cage.Now the six year old feels, the film wallahs are informing you that a new film will go away from the theatres on the releasing date and we must go and watch it before that. I am unable to explain these double entredres of the English language to myself or the child. Mumbai is hardly the kite flying place in India. The children have no clue how many afternoons were spent watching the kites in the sky.
They were never lazy afternoons, we were super excited. Screaming "Bhakattaa" was a joy. So in my drive to give the child, all about India, its varied culture and customs, I shared my childhood kite flying joys. I was usually at my late cousin s house for vacations and kite flying was a big high. The kites were made and some were bought. Small kites were called 'Guddis' and the large ones were 'Guddas'. The thread/manjhaa was bought and broken glass was powdered. "Lai' was a glue made by boiling rice and sabudana together. This white gooey paste was used to make your manjhaa 'majboot' ie make the thread strong.Two people held 2 lataais and me in the centre would hold the glass powder and 'lai' in different newspapers. The thread would pass from one lataai to another through this lai and glass powder. Then the manjhaa become pucca or strong after it dried in the sun for two days. The "Nakhi"was threads and knots made in the kite the previous night to attach it to the Manjhaa.We also added tails to the kites so that it flew like a snake.The manjhaa was checked and re checked. Then we were set.
Mornings and evenings,the wind was good to fly kites. We younger cousins would take help of our elder cousin and his friends to get the kite up in the sky. Once it had flown, we could keep it flying high and maintain momentum. We usually started with a white kite and after a few kites lost would end the game with a black kite. Cutting the string of another kite with your kite s string was the fun. This act was called "Bhakattaa".Catching a kite which had been cut , was flying rudderless or lataai less, was the fun for people like me who didn't know the fine art of kite flying. Some days I was allowed to hold the lataai when the kite was high up in the sky, but as soon as another kite came in the vicinity, the lataai was snatched away from me. The cousins knew how to manoeuvre the kite. Aunts and Mothers kept calling their sons for lunch but food was on no one s mind. One usually did not cut the kite of people flying kites from your terrace. If you cut the thread of another kite, all shouted "Bhakattaa" which meant "Kai po chhe". Same meaning, said with the same joy but in different languages.One in Dhanbad and one in Gujarat.
My valiant attempts to explain the nuances of the fine art of kite flying, failed to impress the child. She said "What's the fun in cutting someone s manjhaa so that their kite flies off ?" She just could not connect with all the colours in the sky which were lacking in my colourful story.Since I could not convey the joys, I did not bother telling her how the glass powdered manjhaa s harmful for the birds and they die because of it. One noon when no one was home, I stepped out onto the terrace to dry my towel. From the iron rod on the shade, hung a pigeon upside down and blowing with the wind. A manjhaa had entangled his feet and neck and the iron rod jutting out did the rest. It was like someone had given him a punishment of Hanged to Death. I ran down, grabbed my key and opened the house door. My neighbour s nine year old came with me to the terrace. He came to call the watchman, who removed the dead bird. The small child was a complete strong cool man by my side, till the watchman took the carcass away. My job was to cut the Manjhaa still hanging from the iron rod. Cutting the thread which cut off the pigeon's life.
They were never lazy afternoons, we were super excited. Screaming "Bhakattaa" was a joy. So in my drive to give the child, all about India, its varied culture and customs, I shared my childhood kite flying joys. I was usually at my late cousin s house for vacations and kite flying was a big high. The kites were made and some were bought. Small kites were called 'Guddis' and the large ones were 'Guddas'. The thread/manjhaa was bought and broken glass was powdered. "Lai' was a glue made by boiling rice and sabudana together. This white gooey paste was used to make your manjhaa 'majboot' ie make the thread strong.Two people held 2 lataais and me in the centre would hold the glass powder and 'lai' in different newspapers. The thread would pass from one lataai to another through this lai and glass powder. Then the manjhaa become pucca or strong after it dried in the sun for two days. The "Nakhi"was threads and knots made in the kite the previous night to attach it to the Manjhaa.We also added tails to the kites so that it flew like a snake.The manjhaa was checked and re checked. Then we were set.
Mornings and evenings,the wind was good to fly kites. We younger cousins would take help of our elder cousin and his friends to get the kite up in the sky. Once it had flown, we could keep it flying high and maintain momentum. We usually started with a white kite and after a few kites lost would end the game with a black kite. Cutting the string of another kite with your kite s string was the fun. This act was called "Bhakattaa".Catching a kite which had been cut , was flying rudderless or lataai less, was the fun for people like me who didn't know the fine art of kite flying. Some days I was allowed to hold the lataai when the kite was high up in the sky, but as soon as another kite came in the vicinity, the lataai was snatched away from me. The cousins knew how to manoeuvre the kite. Aunts and Mothers kept calling their sons for lunch but food was on no one s mind. One usually did not cut the kite of people flying kites from your terrace. If you cut the thread of another kite, all shouted "Bhakattaa" which meant "Kai po chhe". Same meaning, said with the same joy but in different languages.One in Dhanbad and one in Gujarat.
My valiant attempts to explain the nuances of the fine art of kite flying, failed to impress the child. She said "What's the fun in cutting someone s manjhaa so that their kite flies off ?" She just could not connect with all the colours in the sky which were lacking in my colourful story.Since I could not convey the joys, I did not bother telling her how the glass powdered manjhaa s harmful for the birds and they die because of it. One noon when no one was home, I stepped out onto the terrace to dry my towel. From the iron rod on the shade, hung a pigeon upside down and blowing with the wind. A manjhaa had entangled his feet and neck and the iron rod jutting out did the rest. It was like someone had given him a punishment of Hanged to Death. I ran down, grabbed my key and opened the house door. My neighbour s nine year old came with me to the terrace. He came to call the watchman, who removed the dead bird. The small child was a complete strong cool man by my side, till the watchman took the carcass away. My job was to cut the Manjhaa still hanging from the iron rod. Cutting the thread which cut off the pigeon's life.
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