Childhood memories of flying kites.

Steemian Friends,
Among the most beautiful memories of my childhood, I remember the days of flying kites in the field or on the riverbank. I was very young then, maybe in class three or four. In the afternoon, I would run with my friends to the riverbank or in the field, holding colorful paper kites and latai tied with thread. The open sky above the river seemed to be made for us. The sky was vast and blue. If there was a light breeze, it seemed like the kite would go very high today. Today, I watched a group of children flying kites on the banks of the Buriganga River in the afternoon, so I made a video, and I tried to fly a kite.

I had a different kind of excitement when flying a kite. When I would release the kite into the sky, my heart would pound with joy. Sometimes when the wind was strong, the kite would rise very quickly, and sometimes when the wind was weak, I would have to run to get the kite up. I would compete with my friends to see whose kite would rise the highest or whose kite would be cut. If someone cut someone else's kite, we would all scream and run after that kite. I stood on the bank of the river and watched the children trying their best to fly three kites. Then, I flew a kite and enjoyed it with them.

Now that I'm older, I feel very happy when I remember those days. It seems that pure joy is no longer found in the hustle and bustle of life. Those moments of flying kites on the riverbank are my favorite childhood memories. Sometimes I wish I could be young again and fly a kite under that open sky. The last time I enjoyed flying a kite was during the Corona pandemic, by going to the roof of my house.