January 02, 2006

Kite flying in Bombay in the eighties


The eighties, as you may be aware of, were all about tight trousers and flower-print midis. Fortunately as a child I would wear shorts and was spared the sperm-count-decreasing testicle crushers. In such amazing times I learnt the fine art of kite flying by observing the zhoppadpattiwallahs of Bombay.

The basics
The way to black-belt status in kite flying is to learn the basics well. The three main action words in any kite flyers arsenal were: titchki, ghaseetna (or the more cavalier ghasatna), and dheel dena. There is no good English translation for these words and indeed, there should be none. However for the sake of completion twitch, pull rapidly and give slack, respectively, should be close enough.
So you tie the string (maanja) to a kite in an triangular affair sometimes called the kanni. The length of two sides of a kanni could be changed to affect the behaviour of the kite subtly. Unequal lengths were used by advanced kite flyers to get highly unstable (and therefore challenging) flight paths.

Maanja
The string would be wound on a wooden reel called a phirkee. Typically there would be softer white thread (sometimes erroneously called sutli) which being cheaper could be bought in great lengths easily for a rupee or so. Around 20 to 30 % of the string starting from the kite onwards would be the actual maanja. This was tough string dipped in a mixture of colour and glass powder. (A bandaid around my flying finger is a happy memory from those days).
Maanja was of two main types: regular and baarikh (thin). The baarikh maanja was a bitch to handle and could often snap in your hand. But it usually won kite duels.

Patang
The standard Indian kite was a very efficient and versatile flying object. Made of one or more sections of crepe paper stuck on two bamboo slivers giving a rectangular structure with thin threads along the margins, the kite or patang was extremely light and very responsive. An inverted triangular tail gave stability. (The wimps would attach a long paper tail which would so highly stabilise the kite so as to make it aerodynamically unchallenging)

Take-off and flight plans
Take off in the presence of a decent wind required a series of titchkis, ghaseet-ing and dheel-deing. It required some time before one could master the sequence which depended on the wind conditions, local topography and was usually considered a stochastic process with strong Markovian properties.
Once a decent length of string had been unwound so that the kite had reached an altitude of at least 50-75 feet, one would consider that life was in order. A casual glance to make sure no tirangas (tri-coloured kites) or dabbhus (larger and heavier 1 rupee buggers) were lurking in the sun one could indulge in ghaseet-ing for the pure heck of it. If the wind was strong enough the kite made an aggressive rustling sound as one swung it from one end to the other. Strong and rapid ghaseet-ers often could rip the kite in mid-air. A truly commendable feat.

The final two major aspects of kite flying in Bombay are: penchs and catching the gool kites.
Pench
Pench or the more ghettoised term pechh, referred to kite duels (sometimes involving 3 or 4 kites). The victor of a duel was not necessarily the one with the best or sharpest maanja. Duels required knowing what tactic to use with which type of maanja. The usual received wisdom from veterans was baarikh requires copious dheel-deing while regular involves very rapid ghaseeting. However kite weight sometimes played a factor. (The dabbhus could sometimes win by just staying put, the bastards!).

Gool
Running after the gool kite required alert brains, strong legs, a good sense of local wind conditions and high-jumping abilities. "gool gaay poche" was the traditional guttural war cry uttered by duel victors or kite catchers on espying a cut kite. (Of course the original phrase has been modified here, but the sound remains an atavistic call). I have often run kilometers after tantalising high-altitude gool kites. The dangling maanja was the object of all the runners' attention. A first-come-first-served protocol ensured that arguments about ownership were swiftly dealt with. The crowd of runners would dispense instant justice when required. A very gentlemanly sport, in short.

Very high altitude gool kites invoked hyperbolic statements such as "yeh saala jaayega pune!", (or Chembur as the case may be) uttered with a grim face. All agreed about such proclamations. Only fools disputed the secret lives of patangs. I added my own masala to such grave events by thinking about such far-off lands. Mysterious, unyielding, out-of-reach. Something which spurred my adult interest in travelling.

All the stalwarts of kite flying would agree: if you havent flown a kite you havent experienced life.

Miscellany
Some common phrases to be used in kite flying, as the situation demanded (while locked in mortal combat with the enemy):
1. "Ghaseet teri jaath ki baida maaru!"
2. "Aye vinchu! kaapun taak tila. Aie jh*****iya!"
3. "Saala bhardol mein gaya re. Lagta hai black baarikh use kar raha tha woh"
4. "Abbe, pechh laga math. Woh hulcut double kanni baandha hai.. %^(#$$#$%%!!"

7 comments:

Prashant said...

hey..this was cool....u r now spurring me to someday, write about kite flying in UP - the phrases we used to shout are different but the experience ussed to be equally rich.

S said...

Thanks. It should be interesting to see the differences/similarities as a connoisseur.
And i just realised that some of the phrases at the end may not be clear to people who dont know Bombay slang. Oh well...

Anonymous said...

I tried flying a kite once or twice but got deep cuts from the thread and that was the end of it :(

Unknown said...

awesome post ...

I remember my freinds using Kacheri Maanja in some deadly duels.

S said...

@Mridula: Tsk, tsk. Try it again with the bandaid solution.

@Bombayite: Thanks.
I am not familiar with the term "kacheri". Do you mean maanja with "kaanch"-glass powder?

Anonymous said...

My kite flying experience was believe it or not in Japan. Me and a friend of mine read about this kite flying event on the outskirts of Tokyo and decided to go take a look. After wandering about a bit we finally reach an open field beside a river. Open spaces are quite a rarity in Tokyo and the the fact that one could exist so close surprised us. We were the only foreigners there and were immediately welcomed with open arms. Before getting down to the order of business we were delivered to the breakfast tent and fed adequately. Love Japanese hospitality - they treat gate-crashers like royalty. It turned out that it was an event for kite lovers to come together and spend a day socialising and flying kites they make. Unlike in India they do not fight duels, rather the competition is how elaborate one's kite is. Kites 7 ft tall are quite common. On seeing that we had no kites with us a gentleman immediately gave us two of his intricate kites and gave us a quick lesson on how to manage these beasts. On further questioning (with broken Japanese and English) it transpired that the gentleman has been to India and has flown kites on the banks of the river Yamuna behind the Taj Mahal. He was fascinated with the Indian concept of fighting duels with kites and he said that he has never seen more proficient kite flyers in his life. We had a ton of fun spending the day with fabulous kites, their makers and enjoying Japanese hospitality. Among all my experiences in Japan, this one stands out head and shoulders above the rest.

Anonymous said...

That's a wonderful post..pure unadulterated reading pleasure :o)

Good work!