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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1667679
The story is about a boy who loved flying kites.
The Sun had set in the sky colouring the western sky pinkish red. Different shapes nof white fluffy clouds had appeared in the sky. Some of them took the shape of elephants and some had the shape of goats. Amit sank upon the ground for quite some time. Everyone else had left the field but he did not feel like going home. Coconut Trees were silhouetted against the horizon. When the night fell he made his way towards his home which at best could be called a shack. Today his day passed off well. His friend Shayamda, who was senior to him by four years had allowed him to hold the latai. Shayamda had the unique ability to fly a kite. The kite would soar high in the sky and would appear like a dot in the sky.

His delight knew no bounds when he was allowed to fly the kite on his own. Today Shayamda had allowed him to keep some kites. He sniffed them and sometimes when no one was allowed, he kissed them. His mind felt heavy as he made his way towards the slum where they lived. His brother has been ill for a few days. His mother, he believed would have been great nurse in her previous life, would never leave them for a moment whenever they took ill. The room's furniture consists of a rickety chair and an iron bedstead and one stool. The images of Goddesses adorned the world. At night he suppressed the desire to take a few rupees from his mother to buy a kite but he could not thinking it would look bad as his brother was ill. He went to bed early that night.

He was roused by the golden sun rays that had filtered in through the ventilator. Though he was a boy he looked small and frail and had a thick mop of hair. When the clock struck seven he made his way towards the field by the riverside. The golden sun rays had gilded every object of
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