The boy jumps up the stairs, Two at a time, intent on Getting to the roof in less then Five seconds—the remaining Fifty-five to be used 'constructively'... He reaches the roof in record time— Just over four seconds! Panting ever so slightly, Puts his kite on the granular floor, attaches the new, super-sharp kite-string— a wealth acquired for a little less than five rupees. Satisfied with the strength of The string, having Determined the flow of The breeze, he jumps to his feet And puts the kite in the air-- applying just the right amount of Jerks required to catch the wind. Now an expert, having learnt This ‘art’ last summer, Having practiced dexterously In all kinds of winds, Now manages to fly Even in still air. He maneuvers the kite proficiently, Changing its trajectory deftly, At the least sign of ‘danger’… He brings down thirteen kites before losing his own in a hard-fought battle with the fourteenth. This ritual is repeated Ardently over the next few Weeks, till Rakhi app