Today is India’s Independence Day, a national holiday and I’m still slaving at the office. I forgot to add this fact in my earlier post lamenting my relative lack of freedom. But I don’t exactly regret coming to work, as I didn’t have much to do at home.

One tradition that I noticed today (I don’t know how it escaped me for so long) was of kite flying on Independence Day. Rooftops crowded with kite enthusiasts of all ages, shapes and sizes; something reflected in miscellanea of kites congesting the skies over the (surprisingly) deserted Delhi roads. The soaring paper and bamboo contraption is perhaps symbolic in many ways of our freedom.

A freedom with strings attached.

A freedom as fragile as paper.

A freedom wary of the rain and strong winds.

Too many freedoms make the skies a cut-string place.

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