It was about 15 years ago since I last flew a kite. In between, I had never even thought about flying one again. Well, there was a small urge when I was reading The Kite Runner, but it was nothing serious. I remember as a small boy, running my heart out across the school field just to lift the kite into the sky. It was a strenuous task since Kuala Lumpur was not known for its breeze.

I was at Malacca attending a wedding with a few friends recently. It was a hot and sunny Sunday afternoon. At around 3pm we decided depart from the wedding and go someplace else and I suggested Klebang beach. In my mind I was thinking of having the infamous pisang goreng cicah (banana fritters with a selection of three dips; sambal kicap, sambal merah and gula perang) and a bowl of cendol while experiencing the sea view.

When we arrived at the beach, there was a kite stall, selling all sorts of kites. From your typical trapezium shaped kite, to polystyrene airplane kite and even a Doraemon shaped kite. But initially we just stood there, looking at each other. Slowly, we took steps towards the stall and eventually, we bought three.

The wind was wild and perfect. We started flying and trading kite stories from when we were small. All of a sudden we were those kampung boys all over again, laughing and having innocent fun. The mood was just so emotional that one thing missing was background music. And I would surely recommend Ennio Morricone’s score from Cinema Paradiso. Then surely tears would drop. (Yes, this entry is about reminiscing childhood memories, just like most people nowadays.)

We were knocked back to our senses at the sound of azan, a signal that it’s time for Maghrib.