When Nahan’s sky was full of kites and dreams

Nestling in the foothills of the Shivalik, lies my quiet hometown of Nahan. During my childhood, I would eagerly wait for the months of July and August when the skies of my hill town were full of vibrant kites. Their colourful shapes soared above us like dreams taking flight, weaving magic against the blue canvas. Some danced like birds, some spun like dreams, their tails catching sunlight, threading across the clouds. The town’s silence would be often broken by shouts of ‘wo kata’, while the thrill of kite battles waged with string and heart.

Returning decades later, I found the skies empty. The breeze still blows, but the kites are gone. Children are glued to their screens, unaware of the simple thrill that once lit up our days. That spectacle of colours has faded, not just from the air, but perhaps from our hearts too. The kites may have vanished, but the memory still floats — reminding us of a time when dreams flew freely.

Kunjana Chauhan, Panchkula