The Kite Koncept

The kite flies best with a thread attached to it

Elaboration – when a kite gets dis-entangled from its thread and eventually its source. It takes a sudden leap into the air and levitates much higher. While it flies and floats around with more degrees of freedom,though for a short time .It then begins to drop without control and crashes into the ground.

On contrary,when it is held by the thread, it rises though slowly and steadily but it touches the sky with full control of its direction. when the kite hits the peak it gets stable and its pinnacle is reached. Now it can hover left and hover right and enjoy the limitlessness of non-obstruction.It gracefully returns to its source at the end of the day.


Parallel -Like that  kite, we must keep our progress and endeavors with a moral thread attached to our backgrounds. Then only, we can truly rise higher with full control of our lives. It is like that kite that we can rise from our sources and touch the sky,then we can return to our very source gracefully. while, those who leap out of their ground reality and gets lost into the infinity of non-obstruction and falsehood. Initially, the clouds and skies seem to pose an uplift into their decisions but soon after, they start dropping steeply to the alien grounds and then they are never able to return to their source or life nor they can get a chance to start again for the same.


Conclusion -Sometimes a seeming obstruction is rather a necessary hindrance



The Kite Koncept

The Kite Koncept

Flying without wings


Flying without wings

U can drop me now, but U cant keep me down,
Love has no parachute, but nor does my fatal will.
& nor does my iron shackles,& not even my poetics’ (sk)ill.

With this tragic jump,alas! laugh like a clown,
& skydiving learned chuteless, alast! weightless like flown.
& now i must pray,if i can fly without wings,
& now i may or not, but must fly without wings.
Drop like a stone,
If! ….
Then let it be.
It must be.

But Sitting silent is now grave,
I do not want it to be.
Incised on my tombstone,
a reason unsaid,
“it was better this”.
Then let it be.
It must be.

Now, Sitting silent in my mind, my grave,
I nod. my conscience applauds.
“Its better this”
Are yet so damn naive, but..

Now, its so clear,
Second by second my horizon is nearer,
& second by second its much more near.
Let the air rush into lungs,
Let the heart pump some real blood.
In all this mess,
It struck my mind so fast, at last…
this fear of defeat now has to go,
& what its like to fly without wings,
I have to know.

by:vishu mishra