I gave a light tug to the string, just to ensure that I was still
in control. And then I laid down on the grassy plains to rest. The kite was
gorgeous, and I loved kite-flying. As far as I can remember, I’ve always been a
kite-enthusiast. I made my first kite when I was 4, but that never saw the
clear blue sky. I flew my first kite when I was 10, but the string snapped, and
I never saw that kite again. But here I am, 6 years later.
I guess I love kites so much because they’re such a beauty
to look at, both from a distance, and up close. The way they soar in the sky,
speaks so much of freedom, yet you’re still in control of it. Then it hit me –
it was a mere illusion of freedom.
Then I thought to myself. Do I treat people the same way I
treat kites? Do I sometimes like to draw them near when it’s convenient, and
then let them fly far away when I feel like it? Do I like to give them the
freedom to roam, and yet still try to manipulate their every action? Do I get rid of them by snipping the rope when it's too hard to handle the relationship anymore?