By Usama Malick
The onset of Basant in the majestic city of Lahore heralded the approach of the spring season. Before flowers could add to the beauty of the orchards, gardens and lawns, kites of countless hues and shapes adorned the vast ceiling of Lahore’s earth. Three days, from the 6th to the 8th of February, in the city have been nothing less than a joyous whirlwind. Happening after nearly two decades, this lively event resuscitated the very soul of Lahore, pushing even the old and bedridden to be on the top of their rooftops!
The colour yellow is what everyone gets to see everywhere in the days leading up to the main Basant event. Fields in the mofassils are covered with the blooming mustard crops, marking the end of winter. Women and girls don bright and beautiful yellow dresses with green dupattas and tassels adorning the hems of their kameezes. Dishes like halwa puri, ladoos, zarda and pani puris are prepared in abundance. After all, the colour of Basant, which is yellow, symbolizes prosperity, calmness of soul, happiness and optimism.
The invention of kites dates back to 200 BC and is normally attributed to China. Likewise, Japan has had a fantabulous history of kite flying, with kites often carrying symbolic representations of prosperity, long life and fortune. When it comes to South Asia, there is hardly any authentic source from which one could confirm exactly when Lahore became the nucleus of Basant in the world. Lahorites, however, ensured that the city always lived up to its title as the principal centre of kite flying.
For a boy like me, every minute of the three days and nights of Basant were spent under the open sky, apart from brief spells of sleep to keep the mind sane and the eyes open! With breakfast, lunch, and even dinner being served or prepared on the rooftop, especially barbecue, we stayed busy in peechas (kite rivalry) and in preparing one gudda (kite) after the other to show our rivals that we were well stocked.
Basant just made life in Lahore more delightful than anything ever could. Before the revival of this festival, I would roam the streets of gated Lahore to imbibe the pure androon culture and everyday life. This event, however, allowed me to experience the rooftop culture as well. I was in the Walled City on the first day of Basant along with my kith and kin. We had one vast, well-lit and complete roof to ourselves, thanks to our acquaintances who obliged us at the eleventh hour. All the other roofs were also well-lit and had come alive with music and the presence of people. From all the songs my ears listened to, I could say with surety that the voice of Naseebo Lal reigned supreme that day. Her clear, high pitched vocal range heightened emotions and infused the air with zeal and zest. Until late at night, ‘Payan Chooriyan Main Ajj Strangiyan’ was being played on loop.
Lahorites are a fearless lot, I must say. The scenes I got to see on some of the rooftops still give me the creeps. I saw a boy fearlessly standing on a half square foot ledge and flying his kite, wobbling time and again. After two minutes, he blew in a loud, shrill voice “Bo Kata!” and jumped off the wall, flushing with happiness and pride. Unfortunately, there was no wind, which is a prerequisite for the manoeuvrability of the kite and kite rivalry, blowing on the first day. But even this could not dampen the souls of those who were on their tiptoes to cut the kite of their neighbour or someone whom they never liked.
On the second and third days, members of four generations accompanied us. Those born in the early 2000s, or in other words, the Gen Z’s, appeared lost on more than one occasion. They simply were unaware of the rudimentary Basant jargon, let alone the names of various varieties of kites such as patang, gudda, guddi, shurla, Lucknow kat, kups, teerah, do akhal, machar, and many others!
In a moment of frenzy, I asked my younger cousin, “Jaldi kar, agle akhal nu tilawan paa” (Hurry up, put strings into the next two-eyed kite). After two minutes, I looked back to assure myself that, in case my kite got cut, the next kite was ready to be flown right away. Much to my dismay, he could not get this simple task done, being foreign to the words I had uttered. For the first time in my life, I realized how a few years’ difference could have a lasting impact on a person’s life.
Even more, what I realized was how a single, colourful event, happening after eighteen springs, could bring everyone together. It was the event of the soil and was for everyone without any discrimination. Such festivals are the epitome of cultural and religious harmony and should be revived every year to replenish the souls of Lahorites.
The author is a storyteller and literary critic from Lahore. He may be reached at usama.malick183@gmail.com
Header image courtesy of: Pakistan Kite Flying Organization (Facebook)