The other day after one of my runs that make my face look not unlike a ripe tomato, I grabbed some water and head to the balcony for some stretching and kite watching. I am assuming many of you have read Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner and that is exactly what I thought of when I first noticed the abundance of dirty t-shirts and flip-flop clad boys that come out in the late afternoon hours to fly their home-made kites. Each evening there are a different assortment but on Monday there was an unusual abundance of these boys lingering across the empty space below, flying kites from balconies a little ways off, a few in the street (!) and across the street in a school playground. All eyes were transfixed upon the floating paper toys in the sky, I counted there to be about 11, careening to and fro and making my favorite time of the day even more atmospheric. At 6pm when the beautiful colors of dusk have already begun forming from the pollution and dust, the evening call to prayer begins its relaxing melody and calls all Muslims to the mosque, and in this case the little boys home from their kite flying.
This must be what those kids look like when they are still little.
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