Kuala Lampur, Nov. 20 -- When I was around nine or ten, growing up in Lorong Taat, Jalan Parit Mesjid in Pontian, the neighbourhood kids introduced me to the simple joy of kite flying. Some of them even taught me how to make my own kites. We used bamboo for the frame, plastic bags or old newspapers for the body, and mix-and-match strings from my mother's sewing kit. Nothing fancy, but to us, it was freedom on a string.

I still remember the feeling of running down the gravel road, the kite trembling in my hand, waiting for the wind to catch. There was always that small moment of tension, when you didn't know if it would rise or sink. And that was when I learned something that has stayed with me ever since: a kite only flies because of ten...