Mithila was sitting under the tamarind tree cutting up tissue paper for the kites, the children were making. Snatches of conversation mixed with the sounds of cooing of pigeons from the eaves of the roof of the Sunrise Home. Mithila looked after a group of sixteen children during the day.

They were the younger lot of children in the home. Their ages were from six to eleven. She supervised their studies and play. This was a home on the outskirts of Galle. It was headed by Sumathi, a tall and sympathetic woman. Mithila had come in recently on a temporary basis. Mithila was surprised at
herself for taking a job in a far away place but so far everything was alright.

The programme for the day, when the kites were finished, was for Mithila to take the children to Unawatuna beach to fly the kites. Some children had never seen the sea. When they heard the news they made Mithila feel like a magician or a conjurer.

“Watch me, Mitham,” said Tilak, a thin boy with a limp. It was their endearing name for her as the children were all orphans. “Watch me, I'm cutting out the peacock tail for my kite.”

“Looks like a rat tail,” said Sanjay the joker. He picked it up and whirled it above his head, amidst protests from Tilak and squeals of laughter from the others. Shalika laughed and her laughter came out in peals. She was only six years of age.

“Mine is a bird,” Shalika said, as she picked up her little kite and released its string. “Watch me,” she said. She kicked off her sandals and started to dance, stamping her feet in precise little patterns on the ground, her kite, a swirl of colour above her head.

Twirling and prancing, she closed her eyes and began to sing, her throat vibrating in a reedy child's voice. In those few moments, she was powerful, enchanted and enchanting, lost in her dance, nobody could take their eyes off her. Then the tail of Shalika's kite was trapped in the nearby branches of the tamarind tree. Mithila jumped and retrieved it.

Did you know that the first kites came from the people of the South Sea Islands in the Pacific? They used it to fish, attaching a bait to the tail of the kite to attract the fish to come up and that made it easier to catch them.
Later, all packed into a van and went eagerly towards Galle town and onwards to Unawatuna. The beach was surprisingly empty. A few old men were sitting on some rocks gazing out to sea, doing nothing but chewing the air. There was a scattering of families in the distance, walking slowly down the beach.

Shalika and Neela hung back at first, grabbing Miss. Mithila by the arm, their eyes big as saucers.
“Hello, hello, grand sea,” called out Shalika to the sea, in an awed voice hoping for a reply. “Will it hurt me teacher?” she asked Mithila.

A few minutes later they had their shoes off and were on the sand squealing with delight. Sanjay, the fat boy puffed with pride as he had seen the sea before, strutted for a while, kite in hand. Then he put it down carefully and placed a small stone on it and encouraged others to paddle. As the girls picked up the hems of their frocks and dipped their toes in the water, the sun shone through their fabrics lighting them up like lanterns. The sun, the ocean, the beach and the children with happy faces alight, were a delicate wonder.

Then they wanted to fly the kites. They struggled at first to get them airborne. That was a lot of fun. Shalika's little kite flopped in the water, had to be rescued and dried out. Sanjay got Upul to run with the string of his kite, while he held the kite.

In his eagerness, Upul stumbled and fell, Sanjay scolded him as he didn't want the string broken or wet. Then he made Upul hold the kite and he ran with the string and then at a shout from Sanjay, the kite was launched into the sky, where it hung on the wind, bridled and rose, then flopped, making the children shout and then with a gust of wind it soared off into the vast blue sky.

“I am flying,” Sanjay shouted, as he ran with the string. “I'm flying.” His face was a picture of happiness and excitement. Everybody was given a hand and soon all the children were flying their kites. The sky was dotted with the colourful kites, like strange birds flapping in the air.

After about an hour, everyone was feeling hungry. They spread cotton sheets on the sand. Mithila sent the big boys to buy some food at the kiosks under the coconut palms. They had hoppers rolled up with potatoes and onions, rotis and vades, very hot and tasty. They also brought bombai mutai or candy floss. The food was laid out on the sheet and they all sat in a circle round it, wriggling like eels with barely suppressed excitement. They finished a good meal with freshly cut kurumbas to drink.

After eating, Shalika was quiet and when the cotton sheets were shaken and spread out on the sand again, she lay down immediately with her doll and kite near her and closed her eyes. While Shalika slept the other children ran off again laughing and trailing their kites behind them.

Higher and higher the kites flew, shimmering and swooping and a cry went up. “We are the best, we are the best.” Then some boys were skimming stones over the waves while others paddled and some were picking sea shells.

“Are you having fun?” shouted Mithila to the children. “A lot, a lot,” they answered in unison. When the van driver came at half past six to call them, nobody wanted to go home except Miss. Mithila who was tired.

The fishermen were getting ready, their nets near the boats kept high on the shore away from the waves. They were going out to sea. The setting sun had painted the sky in bright red and orange. The sea gulls were flying over the waters homewards.

The van drove through Galle town, where the street lights were lit up and the shops too. The streets were crowded with people going home after work and after buying their goods. By the time the van came up to the gates of Sunrise Home, all the children were fast asleep with their kites beside them.