Saturday, April 4, 2020
The Kite Maker free essay sample
About the lesson In this short story Risking Bond describes the simple and easy life of earlier days when even a kite maker had a social prestige and the people had once and affection for each other. The writer remembers the sweet charm of old days through the character of old Manhood, the kite maker. When the kite old days through the character of old Manhood, the kite maker. In those days kite maker was young, he was honored for his art of kite making. In those days kite playing was the hobby of the Anabas and people were not hurried and worried. But when Manhood became old, the people lost their interest in kite flying.They were busy in getting and spending. They did not care for the old kite maker. In the end of the story a feeling of pathos is created. The death of the Kite Maker signifies the death of the values and life style of the days gone by. We will write a custom essay sample on The Kite Maker or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page * An ancient banyan which had grown through the cracks of an abandoned mosque was the only tree In the street Known as Gall Ram Nathan. And little Alls kite had caught In Its branches. The boy, barefoot and clad only only In a torn shirt, ran along the cobbled stones of the narrow street to where his grandfather sat nodding dreamily in the sunshine of their back courtyard. Grandfather! Shouted the boy. The kite has gone l The old man woke from his daydream with a start and, raising his head, displayed a beard which would have en white had it not been dyed red emends leaves. Did the twine break? He asked. l known that kite-twine Is not what It used to be, No, Grandfather, the kite Is stuck in the banyan tree. The old man chuckled, You have yet to learn how to fly a kite properly, my child. And I am too old to teach you, thats the pity of it. But you shall have another. He had Just finished making a new kite from bamboo, paper and thin silk, and it lay in the sun, firming up.It was a pale pink kite, with a small green tail. The old man handed it to All, and the boy raised himself on his toes and kissed his grandfathers hollowed out cheek. I will not lose this one, he said. This kite will fly Like a bird. And he turned on his heels and skipped out of the courtyard. The old man remained dreaming in the sun. His kite-shop had gone, the premises having been sold many years ago to a Junk dealer. But he still made kites for his own amusement and as playthings for his grandson, All. Not many people bought kites these days. Adults disdained them and children preferred to spend their money at the movies. Moreover, there were few open spaces left for flying kites. The city had river-bank. But the old man remembered a time when grown-ups flew kites from the aiding, and great battles were fought, the kites swerving and swooping in the sky, tangling with each other, Emil the string of one was cut. Then the beaten but liberated kite would float away into the blue unknown. There was a good deal of betting, and money frequently changed hands. Kite-flying was then the sport of kings. The old man remembered how the Nab himself would come down to the river-bank with his retinue to Join in this noble pastime. In those days, there was time to spend an idle hour with a gay, dancing strip of paper. Now everyone hurried, hurried in a heat of hope, and delicate things like kites and daydreams were ramped underfoot. Manhood, the kite maker, had been well known throughout the city in the prime of his life. Some of his more elaborate kites sold for as much as three or four rupees. At the request of the Nab he had once made a very special kind of kite, unlike any that had been seen in the strict. It consisted of a series of small, very light paper discs, trailing on as thin bamboo frame.To the extremity of each disc he tied a sprig of grass for balance. The surface of the foremost disc was slightly convex, and a fantastic face was painted on it, with the two eyes made of small mirrors. The discs, decreasing in size from head to tail, gave the kite the appearance of an crawling serpent. It required great skill to raise this cumbersome device from the ground, and only Manhood could manage it. Everyone had, of course, heard of the dragon kite that Manhood had built; and word went round that it possessed supernatural powers.A large crowd assembled on the Maida to watch its first public launching in the presence of the Nab. At the first attempt it did not budge from the ground. The disc made a plaintive, presenting sound, and the sun was trapped in the little mirrors, making the kite a living, complaining creature. Then the wind came from the right direction and the dragon kite soared into the sky, wriggling its way higher and higher; with the sun still glinting in its devil-eyes. When sit went very high, it pulled fiercely on the twine, and Manhoods young scans had to help him with the reel.But still the kite pulled, determined to be free, to live a life of its own. Yes, those were more leisurely days. But the Nab had died years ago; his descendants were almost as poor as Manhood himself kite-maker, like poets, once had their patrons; Manhood now had none. No one asked him his mane and occupation, simply because there were too any people in the gal. and nobody could be bothered about neighbors. When he was younger and had fallen sick, everyone in the neighborhood had come to ask after hid health.Now, when his days were drawing to a close, no one visited him. Most of his old friends were dead. His sons had grown up; one was working in a local garage, the other had stayed in Pakistan where he was at the time of partition. The children who had bought kites from him ten years ago were now adults struggling for a living; they did not have time for the old man his memories. Having grown up in a swift-changing, competitive world, they looked at the old kite-maker tit the same indifference as they showed towards the banyan tree. Here taken for granted as permanent fixtures that were of no concern to the mass of humanity that surrounded them. No longer did people gather under the banyan tree to discuss their problems and their plans; only in the summer months did someone grandson. It was good that his son worked close by, and he and the daughter-in-law could live in Manhoods house. It gladdened his heart to watch the boy at play in the winter sunshine, growing under his eyes like a young and well-nourished sapling putting forth new leaves each day. There is a great affinity between trees and men.They grow the same pace, of they are not hurt, or starved, or cut down. In their youth, they are resplendent creatures, and in their declining years, they stoop a little. They remember, they stretch their brittle limbs in the sun, and, with a sigh, shed their last leaves. Manhood was like the banyan, his hands gnarled and twisted like the roots of the ancient tree. All was like the young mimosa planted at the end of the courtyard. In two years both he and the tree would acquire the strength and confidence that are characteristic of youth.The voices in the street grew fainter, and Manhood wondered if he was going to fall asleep and dream, as he so often did, of beautiful, powerful kite resembling the great white bird of the Hindus, Guard, God Vishnu famous steed. He would like to make a wonderful new kite for little, All. He had nothing else to leave the boy. He heard Alias voice in the distance, but did not realized that the boy was calling out to him. The voice seemed to come from very far away. All was at the courtyard door; asking if his mother had as yet returned from the bazaar. When Manhood did not answer, the boy came award, repeating his question.The sunlight was slanting across the old mans head, and a small white butterfly was perched on his flowing beard. Manhood was silent; and when All put his small brown hand on the old mans shoulder, he got no response. The boy heard a faint sound, like the rubbing of marbles in his pocket. Suddenly afraid, All turned and moved to the door, and then ran down the street shouting for his mother. And in the banyan tree, a sudden gust of wind caught the torn kite and lifted it into the air, carrying it far above the struggling, sweating city, into the blue sky.