JOIN USSitting behind a slab of stone in his spacious room in east Delhi’s Khureji, Umar Daraz, 76, is concentration personified.
While giving finishing touches to a kite he has been making for the last couple of hours, he says: “It takes at least three to four hours to make this type of kites.
These are fancy-kites, not the ordinary ones. I only make fancy-kites,” Daraz beams.
A veteran of five decades in the business, Daraz is perhaps the most decorated kite-maker in the city, having been recognised and felicitated by the government and cultural and educational organisations several times.
Even his two sons and daughters are into kite-making. His eldest daughter Sameena Parveen is the recipient of Kamala Awards, instituted by Crafts Council of India. She was only 11 years old when she received the award in 1992.
Born in Kalamahal in Daryaganj, Daraz says he has been to 12 countries till now to showcase his “work of art”, as he would like to call it.
“The government sent me many times to different countries like Russia, England and France to tell them how the Indian kite is made,” Daraz says. “In Paris, they organise an International Kite Festival every alternate year when 52 countries participate,” he says. “I have been to four such festivals. Thrice I was sent by the government and once the festival organisers themselves requested me to come there.”
But those were the good old days, says Daraz. Now the situation has changed. With lack of government support and people turning to other forms entertainment, the
profession of kite-making is facing a Herculean challenge to survive.
However, for Daraz the biggest enemy is someone else.
“For me it is the sarmaye dar (businessman or the middle-man) who are to be blamed the most for the decline of this profession,” Daraz says.
“They purchase the kites in bulk from the kite-makers or tie them down with a contract, making them depended on them. The kite-makers who struggle to find buyers readily sell their work to these sarmaye dars at minimum profit,” Daraz explains.
According to Daraz, the arrival of cheaper Chinese kites and `manjha’ (kite-flying thread) have added to the misery of Indian kite makers and the profession.
“The kites are cheaper and the manjha is unbreakable, making it deadlier than the Indian one. Due to this deadly thread lot of fatal accidents have happened in many cities, and several birds also die after coming in contact with it,” Daraz says.
Daraz is now depended on the several kite-flying clubs in the city and outside, and some individual patrons who have been buying kites from him for years.
But he wants to see again the respect kite-flying and kite-making used to get in the past. According to him he is an artist first and a professional later.
“These artworks that you see on the kites and the quality of paper and strength and flexibility of the sticks come with years of honing the art. It can’t be learnt in a factory-like atmosphere,” he says.
“I want that the government should recognise our talent and help us in elevating this art form by organising exhibitions. Government-sponsored kite festivals and schemes are much-required.”
Daraz thinks that the schoolchildren should be introduced to kite-making, as it would help them understand the joy of art and creation. According to him, kite flying is not just a form of entertainment: it’s centuries of heritage since the time of the rajahs and the Mughal kings.