EMILY KWONG, HOST:
Earlier this month, the skies over Lahore, Pakistan were filled with kites, welcoming the revival of a historic kite festival called Basant. The festival was last legally held in the city 19 years ago and banned after a series of deadly accidents caused by kite string. Now, the return of Basant was welcomed with jubilation by many, though some still had concerns about its return. Betsy Joles takes us to Lahore.
BETSY JOLES: The first stop for many kite buyers was Lahore's old city, an area called Mochi Gate.
(CROSSTALK)
JOLES: The narrow, dimly lit streets here are shoulder-to-shoulder packed. Thirty-year-old Hashir Rayan breaks free from the throng, carrying a stack of colorful paper kites. He's been flying them since he was a kid and points to a scar on his hand.
HASHIR RAYAN: This mark - so I got in my childhood.
JOLES: It's from the friction of kite strings on bare skin. When he was young, Rayan would fly kites whenever he was in the mood, but times have changed, he says.
RAYAN: If you wanted to fly the kite, any day, any event, you can fly. So, in childhood, we were flee to fly the kites, but right now, it's very restrictive.
JOLES: There's a reason for the restrictions. Kites had become dangerous. In the years leading up to a ban in 2007, dozens of people were killed during Basant. Some were cut by kite strings coated with chemicals and glass. So this year, there were rules for kite sellers, a list of banned items for buyers and a set window of time when kites were allowed in the sky. The government passed a law outlining these restrictions and more, including penalties for minors. It created some confusion. Fourteen-year-old Azan Ali wasn't sure he and his friends would be able to celebrate Basant.
AZAN ALI: (Non-English language spoken).
JOLES: "They're strict about kids," he says. And kite flying isn't a passive sport in Lahore. For many, it's a competition. Kites circle one another in the air, and their handlers try to cut each other's string, sending colorful diamonds toppling from the sky. Awais Malik, director of the National History Museum in Lahore, says kite flying used to have a code of conduct - in other words, sportsmanship. He says some kite fliers here call it wadah (ph).
AWAIS MALIK: Wadah is an Urdu word that translates to promise, right? A wadah is just, like, you know, an agreement that we're going to face each other in a competition. You know, wadah also meant some kind of a responsibility.
JOLES: But egos got bigger, people started using lethal string to win and Malik says things got out of control. And once Basant got banned, governments were hesitant to bring it back.
MALIK: It had a political angle to it as well because if you bring back Basant and then some tragedy happens, you lose your political mileage.
JOLES: But bringing back a beloved festival could also boost politicians' popularity among their voters. So this year, the chief minister of the province, Maryam Nawaz, took a gamble.
UNIDENTIFIED GROUP #1: (Singing in non-English language).
(CHEERING)
JOLES: In old Lahore, families gather on crowded rooftops, blasting music from portable speakers. Forty-five-year-old Zaib Un Nisa grew up here in the crowded inner city when Basant would happen regularly. She remembers the clatter of bangles that women would wear on their wrists. She's excited but conflicted about the festival's return.
ZAIB UN NISA: (Non-English language spoken).
JOLES: "There's a lot of happiness, but more than that, there's fear. Life is irreplaceable," she says. And the festival was not without incident. Multiple people died falling from rooftops and getting electrocuted after trying to retrieve kites from telephone poles.
UN NISA: (Non-English language spoken).
JOLES: "The government has imposed regulations, but we're our own worst enemies," Zaib Un Nisa says. Still, people didn't hold back with celebrations. They threw elaborate parties on color-drenched rooftops and stayed up to fly kites until late into the night. A Lahori is someone with a lively heart, Zaib Un Nisa says. Then she's interrupted by a celebratory chant from her husband.
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: (Chanting non-English language).
UNIDENTIFIED GROUP #2: (Chanting non-English language).
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: (Chanting non-English language).
UNIDENTIFIED GROUP #2: (Chanting non-English language).
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: (Chanting non-English language).
(LAUGHTER)
UN NISA: (Non-English language spoken).
JOLES: She nods at her husband as evidence and chuckles. This is a Lahori.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
UNIDENTIFIED MUSICAL ARTIST: (Singing in non-English language).
JOLES: And with that, the party continues. For NPR News, I'm Betsy Joles in Lahore, Pakistan.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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