Fighting Kites
Kids living in a time when there were no game consoles and smartphones...
artwork by ractapopulous at pixabay
Fighting Kites
early 60's, South Quay
The spines we make from the stalks of attap leaves.
That's easy, we just pulled some
From the roofs of neighbours' houses.
The body we fashion from paper used for baking.
It is tough and light and free,
Yes we snuck from aunty's kitchen too.
Sometimes if in the mood we paint a fearsome
Pair of demon's eyes on the kite,
Big and wild, black pupils and thick brows.
And the string, it is an art. We pound broken glass
Until they are tiny shards of terror,
Mix it with a paste of starch and rice.
And coat this on a roll of twine that is strung
Between two stakes on the ground.
When it is dried we have our No.1 fighting string.
Then we wait impatiently for the wind.
We let it up, a little paper devil, a dragon
Riding the air, rising to the clouds
Roaming free, looking for prey, for some blood.
We, my cousins and i, seldom lose, our deadly strings
Killing the competition like knives.
Such is our reputation most pull down their kites.
Then this bunch of boys heads home when dark.
Faces dirty, shirts stained (sometimes shirtless)
Fingers and palms bloodied and scarred
And our mothers yelling to us for dinner.
written 10/05/2006
revised 01/08/2018
****************
As we huddle for the next evil scheme : Playing For Change - Stand By Me
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018
Fighting Kites
early 60's, South Quay
The spines we make from the stalks of attap leaves.
That's easy, we just pulled some
From the roofs of neighbours' houses.
The body we fashion from paper used for baking.
It is tough and light and free,
Yes we snuck from aunty's kitchen too.
Sometimes if in the mood we paint a fearsome
Pair of demon's eyes on the kite,
Big and wild, black pupils and thick brows.
And the string, it is an art. We pound broken glass
Until they are tiny shards of terror,
Mix it with a paste of starch and rice.
And coat this on a roll of twine that is strung
Between two stakes on the ground.
When it is dried we have our No.1 fighting string.
Then we wait impatiently for the wind.
We let it up, a little paper devil, a dragon
Riding the air, rising to the clouds
Roaming free, looking for prey, for some blood.
We, my cousins and i, seldom lose, our deadly strings
Killing the competition like knives.
Such is our reputation most pull down their kites.
Then this bunch of boys heads home when dark.
Faces dirty, shirts stained (sometimes shirtless)
Fingers and palms bloodied and scarred
And our mothers yelling to us for dinner.
written 10/05/2006
revised 01/08/2018
****************
As we huddle for the next evil scheme : Playing For Change - Stand By Me
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018
Labels: 60's, camaraderie, children, family, life, nostalgia, Singapore
posted by dsnake1 at 10:06 PM
20 Comments:
Great story telling in this piece :-)
"We pound broken glass
Until they are tiny shards of terror,
Mix it with a paste of starch and rice." Ha, the same method in practice here in India (Bengal Particularly) too. In Bengali we call it "Manja". So the string is knife sharp to cut other flying devils. I also flew kites in spite of the fact that it's a boy-game :)
We used a lot of ingenuity in those days when kids didnt have many toys. We had to invent our own fun and kites were the best! I took my kids up into the hills to fly kites so often in their childhood. Good memories.
I love this, and so different from any games we ever played with dragons... a number of years ago I read the kite runner which made me familiar with the games... the fact that you could do this with what's available makes it even better.
This takes me back to spending an entire day trying to come up with games for all of us in the neighborhood--fighting kites weren't a thing on our street in Texas--but what an evocative read, nonetheless. :)
Kite flying is awesome. I remember at primary school making copy book page kites. Then the experience of seeing boys making what we Trinis call Chickeechong with a light paper and coconut palm ribs. And yet bigger boys make the terrors we called Mad Bulls with razor blades stuck on to cut other kites in the air. Wow!!!
Happy Sunday Cheon Lee san
Much💟live
Sigh.. I remember childhood days of flying kites along with my relatives though they were made of paper and weren't quite as lengendary as the one you describe so eloquently here. 💜
I can picture this friendly competition. What fun!
Although so many years ago we made our own kites we weren't into fighting like you were but tangles occurred or some kites broke free and landed (of course) in a pond close by! I remember how sore my hands were at the end of the day. Your recollection of your kiting days was magnificent.
An elegantly drawn scenario, with a living breathing creation!
I've never made my own kite but, I have flown a few kites. I still enjoy it once in a while on a quiet beach.
Jae,
thank you! :)
Sumana,
ha, that's something new i learned today, that some practices are the same in other countries. i am glad you enjoyed kite flying too. :)
Sherry,
and it is a good exercise too. eyes-mind-motor co-ordination! we really were pretty creative in our childhood days. :)
Sumana,
"manja" in our Malay language means "pampered". i hear this word often because my malay friends used to say that their children are "manja" because they always get what they want. :)
Bjorn,
ah, we were pretty resourceful then. :)
why did they ban kite flying? if they think it is a western thing, they are wrong because it is quite universal.
Chrissa,
coming up with games for all is not easy. :)
Gillena,
Learned something new again. razor blades stuck to kites! that's killer! :)
A fascinating glimpse into someone else's childhood.
Sanaa,
thank you. glad you fly kites too as a child. :)
Mary,
yes, it was. :)
Robin,
i think when we made our own kites, there's a certain pride in it, and we tend to take better care of it. also we can customise it in our own 'colours'. yes, when broken free, all the boys will chase after the kite, and it usually ends up in water. :D
Susan,
thank you! :)
Truedessa,
it's great to see your kite up there in the sky. :)
Rosemary,
Thank you! :)
I love the narrative in this poem and the attention to detail, for example:
'Sometimes if in the mood we paint a fearsome
Pair of demon's eyes on the kite,
Big and wild, black pupils and thick brows'
and
'...We pound broken glass
Until they are tiny shards of terror'.
The fighting kites reminds me of the scene in The Kite Runner where children from the whole town are taking part in the snow.
Thank you, Kim, for your kind comments. i have not seen the movie. maybe i should. :)
You just brought back images of my childhood. Thanks, mate. :-)
Thank you, friend! i guess most of us play with kites in our childhood. :)
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