@ Sarnath, Banaras (Varanasi), Uttar Pradesh, India
Under the Sarnath sun, hundreds of kites are flying.
A stray black one rests on the roof; its string snapped. I pick it up and mourn the child without their kite.
Our childhood kites were expensive, plastic things that never flew. There was never any wind.
This one is nothing but bamboo and tissue paper, devoid of any decoration.
We make things like this for middle school science projects, working out the best shape and material. But here, this is all they have.
Yet they fly in the sky like they were meant to be flown. The hope of India.