In the streets of Lahore there are hints that the kite flying festival, Basant, has returned. Someone is fishing a kite from electricity cables, the distant sound of a drum beat, a flash of neon when you look up in the walled city’s narrow streets to a stretch of sky. This party is above.
As the sun sets across the city, on every rooftop we can see families and friends, laughing, shouting, watching as kites zig zag, circle, and soar through the city’s skies.
“It’s really difficult!” Abu Bakar Ahmad tells me.
The 25-year-old tech engineer has been coached by his cousin, coaxing the kite higher and higher with a twitch of the string.
“All our generations here are very excited; the elders know how to fly a kite, but we Gen-Zers don’t know.”
The festival has returned after nearly two decades. Marking the start of spring, it dates back centuries, but was banned in 2007 after several years of injuries and fatalities caused by sharp kite strings, falls and aerial firing.
It means for many this is their first time flying; they’ve never seen the skies above Lahore like this. Others are practicing the skill after years.
“It’s gathering, it’s love. Flying kites is ok, but the main thing is bonding,” Kanwal Amin, 48, tells me. “I like watching and eating good food.”
Kashif Siddiqui is a pharmacist, but admits his kite flying is a bit rusty. He shows me pictures of his last Basant – then Kashif’s son was three. Now his son is here with his own children.
“It’s special for Lahori’s – this runs in our blood. It’s not about kite and thread, it’s about tradition. My father and his father before him used to do it.”
Kashif’s aunt, Mina Sikander, 60, is here from Miami; she didn’t want to miss out.
“I’m very fond of this festival,” she says. “It was worth the journey!”
