There was a time when the very mention of spring in Lahore meant looking up. Rooftops would fill before the sun had fully warmed the city, fingers stained with manjha dust, elders shouting instructions, children craning their necks against a sky turning yellow, blue and red. The cry of ‘bo kata!’ echoed from one neighbourhood to another and the city seemed – just for a few days – lighter, louder and kinder. Of course, not all was light and wonderful and anyone who lived in Lahore in the 80s and through the 90s would remember the kite-string deaths easily. That is when Punjab decided to ban kite-flying altogether and today’s Gen Z and even some Millenials have grown without the sights and soudns of Basant in Lahore. Now after almost 25 years, the Punjab government has issued an ordinance permitting Basant celebrations under certain conditions. Children under 18 years of age will not be allowed to fly kites and parents or guardians will be held responsible if a child violates the restriction and kite flying will only be permitted using string made purely from cotton, while the use of metal chemically coated strings will carry severe penalties. Kite-flying associations will also be required to register with the district’s deputy commissioner and kites may only be purchased from registered shopkeepers. In other words, Basant is being invited back – but on strict terms.
While it seems like Punjab is trying to revive a cherished tradition in a responsible manner, the Lahore High Court has already been moved against the decision to lift the ban, with the petitioners fearing that the return of kite flying may be a danger to public safety. However, a city that remembers its mistakes should also be trusted to apply its lessons, and the Punjab government should at least be given the chance to demonstrate that Basant can be held safely. After all, kite-flying is not just any other recreational activity, but a deep-rooted cultural tradition tied up with the very identity of Lahore itself. Even for those who have never set foot in the city, one of the first images that pops up when they think about Lahore will likely be one of a sky filled with hundreds of kites, all of a different colour. For those who grew up in the city when the festival was still around, Basant is a part of who they are and as much a part of the spring season as any seasonal fruit. Its ban left a void that has never really been replaced.
Many often speak about boosting tourism and improving the country’s image. The revival of this festival actually offers a chance for that. Pakistan should not be just about its natural beauty and its food; it should also be about the traditional celebrations of its people. It is quite sad that a festival like this died out in the first place. And while people are right to be concerned about safety, there is no getting around the fact that opposition to kite-flying has also often come from the more puritanical elements in society, who sometimes seem to be against Pakistanis being normal people and having any fun in public at all. The suspicion of joy has, at times, been as damaging as poor regulation. In fact, a bigger threat to the Basant revival might be the fact that many families who were in the business of making kites and kite strings have now moved on to other things and where there was once a city of youngsters who took their kite flying as seriously as their fast bowling, there is now a generation of youngsters who only have their parent’s memories. One can only hope that there is enough in those memories to ensure that Basant 2026 is every bit as grand as its predecessors and, of course, much safer.
