Shiraz Bashir
Basant – the kite flying festival of spring – was supposed to be celebrated last weekend in Lahore but, at least officially, it was postponed because of the tragic Lahore bombings. But Basant season is obviously here. For good and for bad.
Basant is a festival celebrating arrival of a spring season. People dress up in colorful clothes and fly Patang or gudday (Kites) of various shapes and sizes using a thoughtfully selected and prepared dor(Kite String). Some people fly kites just for fun. Others fly in serious competitions among various families, mohalas and emotions can run high.
Basant always brings childhood memories from Rawalpindi.
We use to prepare for festival by “dor sotna†(preparation of kite flying string). It starts from selecting the string first. Strings come in many varieties like number 5, 2, 12 Reech (bear), Camel brand, Air blade, 5 panda etc.
Art of “dor sotna†involves many secret ingredients like special glue, string, glass, “sareshâ€, color and many other secret stuff. Then “dor†is put on a “charakrheeâ€. After that we use to go and purchase kites of various types like gudday, Patang, Lakhnow Kut, Pari in various sizes and colors. gudday come in sizes like 2.5 Tawa, 3 Tawa, 6 Tawa whereas Patang sizes are known as Har Githhi, Panch Gitthi, 6 Githhi, 8 Githhi etc. Then dor is attached to kite using a process known as “Kanee Dalnaâ€. It is an art itself.
On Basant day, we wear colorful clothes and climb to roofs and have Patang Bazee. Shouts of “Bo Kataâ€, “Aur Dheel Dayâ€, “Nazar a Raha Hay Gudaâ€, “Oyay Chor Maree Door koâ€, “Khich Mar Na Yarâ€, “Neechay Say Neechay Say Paycha Laga†were norm. Due to very sharp “dorâ€, index and other fingers get very deep cuts. But those cuts were badges of honors and were proudly shown to people next day.
Basant is a fun filled festival. But every year many deaths occur due to kite string cutting somebody throat, electrocuting someone due to vicinity to overhead electric wires or falling from roof tops. So a great caution must be exercised so as not to lose human lives.
Credits:
1. Salman, who is a dear friend of mine from Pakistan, enlightened me on types of Guday, Patang and Dor.
2. Photos by Rehan Fazal at flickr.com
ATP’s Post on Basant from 2007:
Celebrating Basant – Idiot Stlye
I love kite flying and basant.
Growing up in Gujranwalla it was not as big as in Lahore but I spent hours as a young boy with my friends and father in kite flying. I remember our routine was that ever friday during the kite flying season, my brothers, my father and my uncles would go to the roof of our house and fly kites for hours. It was a good way of family bonding and bonding with friends. It was great fun and the whole mohalla would join in.
I have never understood why there is such anger against basant and kite flying… I can understand that it is dangerous but the anger seems to be deeper.
[A long time after that I realized what my father did was right]
No, it was not. It was a form of child abuse!
Kite flying is a historic tradition and should be encouraged as a sport but precuations must be taken like any other sport that can also become dangerous if played carelessly. Precious lives can be saved if proper rules are implemented instead of banning it altogether. A ban on kite flying will only deprive people from one out of a very few entertainments available to the masses in our country.
Basant reminds me of one incident during my childhood due to which I never learned to fly the kite and lost my interest in celebrating basant in any way and I am thankful for that to my parents.
I was about 8 or 9 years old, was not allowed to buy kites or dor or go on the roof to stand with friends to even watch. One fine day, a day before basant, I took money from my mother by showing some tentarum, she gave it to me but threatened that she will inform Dad, I did not take it seriously and thought she must be joking.
Anyhow I went out to the shop nearby home and asked for the dor and a gudda, the shopkeeper knew my father does not like it so he refused but gave way due to my persistence but with the caution and a promise from me that I will never come back to return and ask for money.
I was very happy to have bought the things and went to my friends rooftop and enjoyed my day there, those days the night basant was not INVENTED, another curse.
I came back later afternoon, hid the dor and gudda away from my parents and eyes and happily concluded my basant.
My father came back home late that evening, once we had food and he was relaxed my mother told him what I did in the day. To my surprise father did not show any anger rather he asked me to bring the dor and gudda, I was not happy to bring it out as I thought father will destroy everything but I had to after all my father was issuing an instruction and I was suppose to simply obey it no questions asked, those were the times, we were just suppose to act on fathers instructions without saying why?
Once the dor and gudda was out in front of father he told me to go back to the shopkeeper, return the goods and get the money back. I was stunned to hear him and prayed that he should start beating me but drop his instructions, but he was admant he showed me the door and shoved me out of it saying, you can only come back once you have returned it with full refund. I went to the shopkeeper who of course refunsed and reminded me of my promise during the day. I was standing out of my home in the market for about an hour or so when one of the uncles living next to my home saw me and realized the situation by looking at my face. He knew my father and his feelings towards basant so he brought me home and told father that the punishment is enough and I should be let in the house, my father accepted and then he chatted for some time with our neighbour.
While my father was chatting outside with the uncle, I was very happy inside the home with my prize pocession and thought that I will be enjoying this new toy of mine for many more days to come without realizing that the shock of my life is still on its way and this calm is the one which normally is called the lull before storm.
Moments later I heard my father who was back in home now calling me, once in front of him he asked me to bring my new found toys again. He asked me to burn the things right there and then in the middle of the courtyard of the house while my mother and younger brothers watching it. I had to do it with thick tears in my eyes I saw my prize pocession being burnt to ashes before my eyes.
I suppose you would be thinking my punishment finished, no not yet, my mother was told not to give food to me for that night, I was not allowed to watch TV for that night and I had to stand in the corner of the house looking at that corner for almost 2 hours before an aunt of mine came visiting us and got me relieved, but she did not say any harsh words to my dad for which I did not forget her for a very long time.
A long time after that I realized what my father did was right, I dont know how to fly a kite or even place that kanni in the kite and if I go to any events I just sit and enjoy the food or little bit of atmosphere saving my hands from any cuts and saving my time from wasting in that habbit.