Page 98 - English Class 07

An ancient banyan which had grown through the cracks of an abandoned mosque was

the only tree in the street known as Gali Ram Nath. And little Ali’s kite caught in its
branches.

The boy, bare foot and clad only in a torn shirt, ran along the cobbled stones of the
narrow street and where his grandfather sat nodding dreamily in the sunshine of their back
courtyard.
abandoned : deserted
“Grandfather!” shouted the boy. “The kite has gone!”
bare foot : without shoes
The old man woke from his daydream with a start and cobbled :naturally sounded
raising his head, displayed a beard which would have been chuckled : laughed quietly
hollowed-out : sunken
white, had it not been dyed red with mehndi leaves.

“Did the twine break?” he asked. “I know that kite twine is not what it used to be.”

“No, Grandfather, the kite is stuck in the banyan tree.”

The old man chuckled , “You have yet to learn how to fly a kite properly, my child. And I
am too old to teach you, that’s the pity of it. But, you shall have another.” He had just
finished making a new kite from bamboo, paper and thin silk, and it lay in the sun, firming
up. It was a pale pink kite with a small green tail. The old man handed it to Ali and the boy
raised himself on his toes and kissed his grandfather’s hollowed-out cheek.

“I will not lose this one,” he said, “This kite will fly like a bird”.

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