On January 14, the sky above Old Dhaka does not remain empty for long. By noon, it is crowded with hundreds of kites—bright reds, deep blues, sharp yellows—floating, clashing, and cutting each other loose. This is Sakrain, Old Dhaka’s most vibrant and enduring folk festival, marking the end of the Bengali month of Poush and the celebration of Makar Sankranti.
For one day every year, rooftops replace streets, and the dense urban maze of Old Dhaka opens itself to the sky.
A Festival Rooted in History
Sakrain is believed to date back to the Mughal era, when kite flying was popular among both the elite and common residents of Dhaka. While Makar Sankranti is observed across Bengal in different forms, Sakrain has evolved into a uniquely urban tradition in Old Dhaka—shaped by its architecture, community life, and centuries-old neighborhoods.
Over time, the festival transformed from a seasonal observance linked to agricultural cycles into a full-fledged cultural celebration. Today, Sakrain stands as a symbol of Old Dhaka’s resilience in preserving its traditions amid rapid urban change.
Where Sakrain Comes Alive
The heart of Sakrain beats strongest in areas such as Shankharibazar, Tantibazar, Lakshmibazar, Sutrapur, Armanitola, Nazirabazar, Islampur, and Chawkbazar. In these tightly packed neighborhoods, every rooftop becomes a stage. Families, friends, and neighbors gather above narrow lanes, turning concrete roofs into festive meeting points.
From above, the city appears stitched together by strings and kites, forming a living tapestry in the sky.
Kites, Strings, and Rooftop Rivalries
Kite flying is the soul of Sakrain. Participants use glass-coated strings, locally known as manja, to cut down rivals’ kites. Cheers erupt when a kite is severed and begins its slow, drifting fall. Children chase the fallen kites through alleys, while adults compete from rooftops with practiced precision.
Shouts of victory—“Kata!”—echo across neighborhoods, blending with laughter and playful rivalry.
Food, Gathering, and Shared Joy
Sakrain is equally about togetherness. Homes prepare traditional snacks such as pithas, tiler naru (sesame sweets), muri, khoi, and molasses-based treats. Rooftops turn into communal dining spaces, where stories are shared alongside food.
For many families, Sakrain is one of the rare occasions when generations gather not inside living rooms, but under open skies.
Fire, Light, and the Evening Sky
As the sun sets, the festival takes on a new form. The sky fills with fireworks and flares, lighting up Old Dhaka in bursts of color. While authorities issue safety warnings each year due to fire risks in the densely built area, the spectacle remains an inseparable part of the tradition.
The night sky, once ruled by kites, becomes a canvas of light.
More Than a Festival
In a city increasingly defined by congestion, concrete, and routine, Sakrain offers something rare—a collective pause. It pulls people upward, away from streets and screens, reconnecting them with the sky and with each other.
Sakrain is not merely a festival. It is Old Dhaka remembering itself.
