The time I remember best was during Uttarayan, the kite festival in Gujarat, when I was about fourteen. I'm from Ahmedabad, and in January the whole city goes up onto the rooftops for two days.
That year my uncle Ramesh, who's brilliant at it, decided I was finally old enough to fly a proper fighting kite rather than just holding the spool for him. We were on the roof of my grandparents' house from early morning. The sky was full of hundreds of kites in every colour, people were shouting from every terrace, and there was music and the smell of sesame sweets everywhere. My uncle showed me how to feel the wind through the string and how to tug it so the kite climbed. The tricky part is that people try to cut each other's strings, and within ten minutes my first kite was cut and drifted away over the houses. I was crushed. But on my third attempt I managed to cut someone else's line, and the whole roof erupted with cheers.
Looking back, I felt a mixture of things. At first I was frustrated and a bit embarrassed, because my cousins were watching. Then there was this huge rush of pride when I finally won a contest. But the feeling that stayed with me is how connected everyone was. Total strangers on other rooftops were waving and teasing us. Now I work in software in Bengaluru and I rarely get home for the festival, so that day reminds me how a simple paper kite can bring an entire city together.