By Mandira Pattnaik
With a jerk she lets go of the string, loosens bridle, the kite winging high as her freedoms.
She watches it flutter like a brimstone butterfly, soar, dive, soar again, on newly-painted azure shelves, wind catching its pale diaphanous tail, happy as her heart high above the yellow mustard fields toiled by her father and uncles.
Down on the street, breeze claps, manes of Gulmohar trees mingle in cadence. She espies mud-stained feet of her brothers upon the tiles as they retreat home, joyous after soccer. Hears bubbly chatter of neighborhood girls’ walking back, frills of skirts swinging.
She imagines every single thing celebrating because maybe everyone’s cognizant of an envelope that’s arrived by mail this morning: someone somewhere has discovered merits in her application, her willingness to take chances. She is winning over adversities, flying abroad to study, unfurling herself in skies of possibilities.
Mandira Pattnaik‘s work has appeared or is forthcoming in DASH Journal, EllipsisZine, Atlas & Alice, Citron Review, Watershed Review, Passages North, Amsterdam Quarterly, Bangor Literary, and Timber Journal among other places. Find more of her writings at mandirapattnaik.wordpress.com . On Twitter @MandiraPattnaik
The Birdseed 