In the last seven years, the current Chief Minister (CM) of Punjab, Mian Shahbaz Sharif, a man known for his ‘good governance’, who completed the Lahore Metro Bus project in record time just before the 2013 elections, has not taken a single step to lift the ban on kite flying, a centuries old tradition that both defines and revives the jubilance of the historical city of Lahore. In many ways, Basant, the annual festival of kite flying, like the Mardi Gras for New Orleans, personifies the buoyancy of the inhabitants of Lahore, uncovering their fondness for food, music, clothing (or lack thereof in case of the former) and fashion, in addition to their passion for kite cutting contests with all their chanting, chuckling, giggling, teasing, shouting and sometimes even swearing. From a financial standpoint, even if we leave tradition, culture and joyfulness aside, Basant plays an important role in stimulating the economy of the city. Kite enthusiasts travel from the Middle East and Europe with their families just to attend the festival, spending millions of dollars on a single weekend, beating any other local event in revenue generation and job creation. From clothing to electronics and from car rentals to high-end catering, local businesses soar to meet the surge in demand. For kite makers, just as Christmas in the west, the profits drawn in the season can reach as high as half (or more) of their annual income without which they may not make two ends meet, a reality that hundreds of families face today. So why does Basant still not fall in the list of priorities of the Sharif brothers even when it brings in the money and promotes the economy? Safety issues notwithstanding, any cultural event in which people get a chance to meet up and enjoy a few moments together somehow irks the Sharif brothers on ‘moral’ grounds. In their party, only the former minister of culture, Sheikh Rasheed, a big-mouthed politician once known more for his promiscuity than his interest in art, acting, dance or music, took some interest in promoting such occasions, although kite flying even then could not grasp his attention. After him, the PML-N suffers a great deal, unable to hide its aversion to music, arts, culture, heritage and of course mixed gatherings! It is true that Shahbaz Sharif did not initiate the banning exercise. Two years before he was sworn in as the head of the province, Chaudhry Pervez Elahi, his predecessor, upon the recommendation of the police and local administration, imposed the directive without giving it a second thought. I can understand the reasons for his indifference towards kite flying. First, the former CM did not belong to Lahore, which means that kite flying for him does not hold as much importance. Second, the politics of the Chaudhry brothers depended more upon ‘external’ support. So, as long as ‘the boots’ stood behind them, they did not care much about the roots (the people), favourable ratings or their popularity. However, how can we exonerate the Sharif brothers who have spent all their lives in Gowal Mandi, Model Town and Raiwind, and rely upon Lahore for their political strength? To be fair, the recommendation to impose a ban as put forward by the administration holds solid grounds. Lately, the upsurge in the use of metallic cords instead of the usual rice-glue coated cotton thread resulted in numerous casualties. As the bare metal wires whipped through the air, they essentially turned into sharp edged knives, penetrating deep into the vital organs of the victims. From children to motorcyclists and from street hawkers to pedestrians, many people were injured, hospitalised, disabled or even killed. Moreover, these metal cords resulted in prolonged power outages, fire hazards and permanent damage to properties. However, my question is: if given the choice, what would a good administrator do to take on the challenge? Would he ban it completely or improve the law, find the criminals and make kite flying safer, or ignore the hazards and let the people figure out a solution? I guess you know the answer already: keep the ban forever and that is exactly what Shahbaz Sharif did. To put it another way: according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration in the US, “32,719 people died in crashes on roadways during 2013”. Now, imagine if Shahbaz Sharif had the responsibility of reducing the number of casualties, what would he have done? The answer is simple: he would have used large containers on all the highways, closing them for public use and would have sent the Punjab police to take appropriate action. Blockage of the highways would have meant no traffic and, without traffic, there would have been no accidents. Problem solved! Similarly, 761 people died last year in commercial plane accidents all over the world. In this scenario, how would a good administrator respond to save human lives? Of course, he would shut down the airports and seize all the airplanes. He would also incarcerate the pilots, the plane attendants and the engineers along with the aviation staff and maybe even the travellers. A journey from the US to Pakistan, after the flight ban, would only be allowed through camels and mules because low to nil ground speed would result in less severe injuries, if any. On a serious note, we can understand and agree with a short-term ban on kite flying to track down the individuals who engineer and sell metallic cords. We can support a vigorous campaign on public safety and people’s education too. The administration can also designate restricted areas where kite flying is permitted to further ensure the safety of the people. However, without taking any measures to reduce untoward events and by turning down all the requests of civil society, the self-proclaimed good governance model of Shahbaz Sharif, which in fact is a bureaucracy-led authoritarian regime, is letting an old jubilant tradition die under his watch. The writer is a US-based freelance columnist. He tweets at @KaamranHashmi and can be reached at skamranhashmi@gmail.com