Kites; that’s what the world was.
Hanging by a thread.
Going through turmoil; attempting to hold on.
Dreaming of flying away;
entrapped by the thread yet existing because of it.
Competing with each other; trying to cut each other.
But is the flight without the thread freedom?
For the momentous and significant flight is fleeting.
The kites eventually fall like a house of card.
Attached yet detached.
A life cycle of emotions that live and die inside us.
Some shared. Some forgotten.
The world is human.
We are kites.
Everything is kites.
Himanshu Chakravarty Sharma / मंच 