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Following the tragic death of a 36-year-old medical representative whose throat was slit by Chinese Manjha in Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath issued strict orders in February this year: register murder cases for all Manjha-related fatalities in the state, and hold local officials accountable for failing to curb the sale of the lethal kite string.
The victim, Mohammad Shoeb, a resident of Dubagga, was riding his motorbike toward old city area of Lucknow when he met with the fatal accident. Also, the Chief Minister had directed authorities to execute state-wide crackdowns to enforce a total ban on the string’s sale and initiate severe legal action against violators.
Manjha, as the kite-flying string is known, is traditionally coated with an abrasive mixture to cut rival kite strings during competitions.
Across the globe, more than 37,000 children aged 15 and under, as well as young adults, die annually from kite flying-related falls. In India, illegal glass-coated synthetic strings—popularly known as Chinese Manjha—cause multiple deaths every year. During festivals like Makar Sankranti and Independence Day alone, the lethal thread claims anywhere between four to 15 lives annually through fatal throat slashes and falls.
With Independence Day, 2026, approaching, Tehelka conducted an undercover investigation into the illicit trade of banned Chinese Manjha across Uttar Pradesh and other Indian states. What we uncovered was alarming: kite shopkeepers continue to sell the dangerous string to trusted customers without fear of police action.
“You are recording me. You are doing a sting on me. If you want to buy Chinese Manjha from me, buy it. Why are you asking so many questions? Please see to it that I don’t get into any trouble.” — Nasir Khan alias “Munna”, a kite supplier based in Agra, Uttar Pradesh, speaking to a Tehelka reporter while selling banned glass-coated string.
“I recently sent 5 kg of ganja [marijuana] from Kolkata to Bangalore through my courier. I labelled the package as ‘medicine,’ and it passed through without any check. I will send Chinese Manjha from Kolkata to Delhi the exact same way. It is banned in Kolkata too, but it’s sold clandestinely to select buyers. I can supply it to Delhi regularly.” — Jitu Singh, a Kolkata-based supplier of banned Chinese manjha.
“Shyam Kumar, another supplier from Shahdara, Delhi, is ready to supply Chinese Manjha regularly at Rs 500 per roll. However, he is paranoid about meeting strangers and won’t talk over the phone. He said he is ready to deal through me.” — Javed Khan (name changed), an intermediary in Delhi.
In India, kite flying carries deep nostalgic and sentimental value. However, the unabated use of illegal synthetic strings turns a beloved pastime into a fatal threat.
Despite its popular name, Chinese Manjha is manufactured locally; it gets its name because its primary raw material—synthetic polypropylene—is imported from China. Made of dense nylon or plastic-like fibres coated with crushed glass, the thread is ultra-thin, sharp, and lightweight, making it easier to cut rival kites during airborne duels.
Every year, the body count rises. Spikes in injuries and casualties consistently peak in the weeks leading up to Independence Day and Makar Sankranti as crowds gather on roofs across the National Capital Region and beyond to fly kites. The string does not just cut human throats—it also severely entangles and kills local bird populations, causing widespread ecological damage.
Recognizing it as a national menace, the National Green Tribunal (NGT) enacted a nationwide ban on the manufacture, sale, and supply of glass-coated synthetic thread in 2017.
Despite the NGT prohibition and police claims of strict enforcement, Chinese Manjha remains in high demand. It is cheaper and much sharper than traditional Indian Manjha, prompting enthusiasts to seek it out.
Tehelka’s ground investigation into the sale of banned Chinese Manjha in Agra, Kolkata, and the national capital, Delhi. It found that the ban has largely remained confined to official files. Kite suppliers in all three cities were caught on Tehelka’s hidden camera openly selling the banned Chinese Manjha.
As part of the investigation, a Tehelka reporter first met Nasir in Agra, posing as a buyer seeking a regular supply of Chinese Manjha for his kite business in Delhi. Nasir arrived carrying the banned Chinese Manjha to meet the reporter.
The reporter begins by asking Nasir about the type of Manjha he has brought. Nasir immediately confirms that it is the same product the reporter had requested. When asked if it is Chinese Manjha, Nasir identifies it as the plastic, nylon coated variety with glass, leaving little doubt about what he is selling.
Reporter- Manjha kaunsa hai aapke pass?
Nasir- Wahi hai jo aapne mangaya hai.
Reporter- China ka?

Nasir- Plastic ka boltey hai…China ka.
Reporter- Boltey to China ka hi hai, nylon wala, plastic wala… wahi sheeshey wala.
Nasir- Haan wahi wala.
[The above interaction shows how openly the banned Chinese Manjha is being identified and offered for sale. It suggests that the ban has done little to stop its availability.]
We told Nasir that we wanted a regular supply of Chinese Manjha from Agra to Delhi, as the ban on Chinese Manjha is enforced more strictly in Delhi than in Agra. Nasir replied that he knew a supplier in Jaipur, Rajasthan, who could provide the banned item on a regular basis. He also said he had brought a sample for us and would inform us whenever a fresh stock arrived, as he already had our contact number.
Reporter- Dekho aisa hai Delhi mein to hai nahi ye.
Nasir- Ban hai.
Reporter- Poore India mein ban hai…iski supply chahiye zyada.
Nasir- Dekhiye mein to chota mota hoon, abhi aap ye le jaiye, abhi iska ek distributor hai Jaipur mein.
Reporter- Kaun hai Jaipur mein?
Nasir- Ye mujhe maloom karna padega
Reporter- Distributor hai Jaipur mein…China manjhe ka?
Nasir- Haan.
Nasir- Hum to chote mote dukandari hai, 1-2 lekar bechtey hain, aap chahe se le lijiye….aage se aapka number mere pass hai hi, jaise maloom padega aapko bata dunga..
[This chat suggests that sellers are aware of a wider supply network beyond their own shops. It also indicates that Chinese Manjha remains easily available despite the ban. Laws achieve their purpose only when they are enforced effectively.]
Nasir then shared his identity and the location of his shop in Agra to facilitate future business. During the chat, he confirmed that the shop was registered in his name and said anyone could ask for “Nasir Bhai.” He also casually asked the reporter’s name before the meeting concluded.
Reporter- Aapki dukaan wahi hai na, Maal ke Bazaar mein?
Nasir- Haan.
Reporter- Kiske naam se hai?
Nasir- Mere hi naam se hai… Nasir Bhai ke naam se pooch lena.
Reporter- Poora naam kya hai?
Nasir- Nasir Bhai.
Reporter- Khan, Ali kuch nahi?
Nasir- Haan, Khan laga lena.
Nasir- Aapka shubh naam kya hai?
Reporter- Mera naam Aamir Ali… aur aapka Munna, Munna ke naam se patang ki dukaan hai na?
Nasir- Ji.
[This exchange shows that Nasir speaks openly about his identity and business while discussing a future deal. It reflects the confidence with which he appears to operate. Illegal business often thrives when those involved perceive little risk of legal consequences.]
Nasir then told us about the variety of Chinese Manjha he was selling. According to him, he had only the “Gold” variety in stock, and that too in limited quantity. He said he usually sold only one or two rolls at a time.
Reporter- Filhaal batao, manjhe kaun kaun se hain?
Nasir- Ismein to Gold hi hai, bas.
Reporter- Gold ki ek hi variety hai bas, aur kuch nahi hai?
Nasir- Hum to ek-ek, do-do lekar hi bechte hain, bhai.
[This interaction shows that even though the stock is limited, the banned Chinese Manjha is readily available for sale. It also suggests that sellers continue to keep supplies despite the ban. It emerges that restrictions need effective enforcement to make a real difference.]
The reporter then asked Nasir about the quantity of Chinese Manjha he could supply. Nasir said he could not commit to any quantity immediately and would have to check first. He added that he currently had only one roll and would inform the reporter later about future availability.
Reporter- To ye batao, hame kitna maal mil sakta hai?
Nasir- Ab ye to pooch kar bataunga. Aise kaise bata sakta hoon?
Reporter- Aap kitna de sakte ho?
Nasir- Ek hi hai mere paas to.
Reporter- Abhi nahi, aage?
Nasir- Main aapko pooch kar bata dunga.
[This chat indicates that the seller is willing to arrange larger quantities after checking with his source. It also points to an organised supply chain operating behind individual sellers. It is evident that illegal trade survives when demand meets a ready network.]
After being asked a series of questions about Chinese Manjha, Nasir appeared to have got suspicious of the reporter’s intentions. He expressed concern about getting into trouble, saying he had two young children to take care of. Once the reporter reassured him, Nasir produced a sample of the banned Chinese Manjha and asked for Rs 600 in return.
Reporter- Filhaal dikha do, kaisa hai maal?
Nasir- Ab aisi baat to nahi hai, sir… ye laye hain.
Reporter- Kya baat kar rahe ho?
Nasir- Mere bhi chhote-chhote do bacche hain… aisi baat to nahi, koi darne wali baat?
Reporter- Koi baat nahi hai. Aap kyun pareshan ho rahe ho? Suno, manjha yahin dikhaoge ya kahan dikhaoge?
Nasir- Yahan dekh lo. Aap paise de do.
Reporter- Mujhe paise bata do, kitne hue?
Nasir- 600 rupiye de do mujhe aap.
[This chat shows that the seller is aware that dealing in Chinese Manjha carries risks, yet he is prepared to go ahead with the sale. It also suggests that fear of the law alone has not stopped the illegal trade.]
When the reporter remarked that Rs 600 was on the higher side, Nasir defended the price. He said he had travelled to meet the reporter with the Chinese Manjha after borrowing someone else’s vehicle and spending money on petrol from his own pocket. He also asked for an additional Rs 50 towards his travel expense.
Reporter- 600 rupees zyada nahi hai?
Nasir- Tumhare liye aaya hoon main yahan pe. Aap mera petrol de dena, 50 rupees aur de dena, bhai. Doosre ki gaadi lekar aaya hoon.
[This conversation shows that the bargaining quickly shifts from the product to the cost of delivery. It shows how the seller is willing to make personal efforts to complete the deal.]
The reporter again asked Nasir how much Chinese Manjha he could supply on a regular basis. Nasir replied that he currently had only one roll in stock. He assured the reporter that he would check with his supplier and provide updates about future availability.
Reporter- Mujhe ye batao, mujhe kitna maal mil jayega aapse abhi?
Nasir- Sir, mere paas to abhi ek hi hai. Aage hoga to aapko de dunga.
Reporter- Mujhe chahiye lagatar supply.
Nasir- Mere paas number to hai hi. Main aapko pooch kar bata dunga.
[This chat suggests that Nasir is prepared to arrange future supplies through his source if demand continues. It also points to a supply chain that remains active despite the ban. It underscores the fact that a ban can succeed only when every link in the supply chain is disrupted.]
Nasir then asked for our address in Delhi and suggested that we could also source Chinese Manjha locally. He recommended kite sellers in Jaffrabad and Nangloi, saying they might be able to supply the banned Manjha. He also mentioned that a wide range of kites was available with him.
Reporter- Achha, patange kaun kaun si hain aapke paas?
Nasir- Patange sab milengi… panni ki, kagaz ki, sab milengi. Delhi mein kahan hai aapki dukaan?
Reporter- Delhi mein Mayur Vihar… Jamna Paar.
Nasir- Achha, wahan Jaffrabad mein bhi to hai. To Jaffrabad mein aap usse le lena… Raz se, Lalu se. Unpar mil jayega sab.
Reporter- Chinese manjha hai unke paas?
Nasir- Hoga shayad.
Reporter- Aapke jaankar hain?
Nasir- Mere khayal mein Nangloi mein ho, shayad.
[This dialogue indicates that sellers are familiar with others dealing in the same trade across different cities. It also suggests that buyers can be directed to alternative sources without much difficulty. Weak enforcement allows such networks to remain active.]
After a series of questions from the reporter, Nasir became suspicious for the second time and asked whether he was being recorded. Once the reporter assured him that he was not, Nasir relaxed and revealed that he sourced the Chinese Manjha from a distributor.
Reporter- Ye batao, aapki supply kahan hai? Kaunse area se hai?
Nasir- Hum to local hain. 10-20 rupees khol ke bechte hain.
Reporter- Aapki supply kahan se hai? Kahan se aata hai aapke paas?
Nasir- Ek distributor dene aata hai… Arey, aap recording kyun kar rahe ho?
Reporter- Arey, nahi.
Nasir- Dekho, meri baat suno. Main abhi dukaan se uthkar aaya hoon. Aap mujhe record kar rahe ho?
Reporter- Dekho, daro mat. Ye dekho, maine (mobile phone) andar kar liya.
Nasir- Nahi, aap itna kyun pooch rahe ho? Aapne kaha patang ka… Baluganj se aaya hoon.
Reporter- Chalo, chhodo.
[This chat shows that Nasir is cautious about revealing details of the supply chain but is willing to speak after receiving reassurance. It also indicates that the Chinese Manjha reaches retailers through distributors. As this exchange illustrates, fear alone is not enough to dismantle an illegal supply network.]
For the third time, Nasir questioned whether the reporter was recording him. This time, he asked the reporter to swear by Allah that no recording was being made. He said the reporter appeared more interested in asking questions than buying Chinese Manjha and suggested that the enquiry was only a formality. Despite his doubts, he asked for the reporter’s address so that he could visit him in Mayur Vihar in the future.
Nasir- Ab, sir, ye to aap formality poori kar rahe hain. Aapko lena wena kuch nahi hai.
Reporter- Aisi baat nahi.
Nasir- To aap itni cheezein kyun pooch rahe ho? Ye bataiye aap… Aap mujhe apna address de do. Main aapke paas khud aaunga, Mayur Vihar. Poora address de do.
Reporter- Achha, likho.
Nasir- Aap likhkar de do. Aapke paas pen to hoga.
Reporter- WhatsApp par likh lo. Mobile kaunsa hai aapke paas?
Nasir- Aap likhkar send kar do mujhe.
Nasir (continues)- Arey nahi, bhai.
Reporter- Arey, lo.. lo; paise lo.
Nasir- Aap dekhiye, pehle Allah Pak ki kasam khaiye….aap kuch kar to nahi rahe hain?
Reporter- Hmmm.
Nasir- Sir, mere sir pe haath rakho. Chhota bhai hoon.
Reporter- Haan, lo paise lo.
[The interaction shows that Nasir remains wary of being exposed but is still willing to continue the deal after receiving assurances. It also highlights how trust is built before an illegal transaction moves forward. Suspicion may slow such trade, but it does not necessarily stop it.]
We left Nasir after paying him Rs 700 for the Chinese Manjha he had brought. We did not take delivery of it, however, because the sale and possession of Chinese Manjha are prohibited in India.
After Nasir, we met Jitu Singh in Delhi. Jitu Singh is from Kolkata and is ready to supply banned Chinese Manjha from Kolkata to Delhi. Jitu told Tehelka that despite the ban, Chinese Manjha is easily available in Kolkata, in almost every market across the city. According to him, shopkeepers simply hide it whenever the police arrive and display cotton Manjha instead. Once the police leave, the banned Manjha is put back on sale. He claims this is a common practice across the city.
Reporter: Ab bata Chinese Manjha ki… kahan kahan mil raha hai Kolkata mein?
Jitu: Chinese Manjha Kolkata mein har jagah milta hai. Ban hai, par police aata hai to sab chhupa deta hai.
Reporter: Kaun kaun sa market hai?
Jitu: Kolkata poora hi market hai. Kolkata mein aap kahin par bhi chhota sa dukan le lo, bada sa dukan le lo. Jab gaadi (carrying police officials) dekhta hai, sab chup jaata hai. Dhaga wala saamne chalu ho jaata hai. Phir jab gaadi gaya, phir Chinese wala shuru ho jaata hai.
[The interaction suggests that the ban has done little to stop the sale of Chinese Manjha in Kolkata. We also learn that sellers have found simple ways to avoid police checks. A ban alone means little if enforcement remains weak.]
When asked to name the areas where Chinese Manjha is sold, Jitu points to Titagarh and Bada Bazaar in Kolkata. He claims the banned Manjha is available across the city but specifically identifies these two markets. According to him, Chinese Manjha is available in Bada Bazaar round the clock. He presents it as something that is easily accessible despite the ban.
Reporter: Kaun kaun se elake hain Kolkata ke jahan Chinese Manjha milta hai?
Jitu: Wahan humko Chinese Manjha ka naam nahi pata. Wo log lekar aata hai, rang birangi.
Reporter: Lekin elaka kaun kaun sa hai?
Jitu: Accha, elaka ho gaya Titagarh.
Reporter: Ye Kolkata mein hai?
Jitu: Haan, Kolkata mein.
Reporter: South, east, north, west… kaun si jagah?

Jitu: South mein… sab jagah mein hai. Hadh se aadha ek ghante ka raasta hai… sab kuch milega. Titagarh ho gaya, Bada Bazaar ho gaya. Bada Bazaar mein to 24 ghante milega.
Reporter: Chinese Manjha?
Jitu: 24 ghanta.
[Jitu’s chat identifies specific markets in Kolkata where banned Chinese Manjha is sold openly. His candid references to these markets suggest that the illegal trade is well-established. Laws lose their value if violations become so routine.]
Jitu also shared a sample of the Chinese Manjha on WhatsApp. When asked where he had bought it, he replied that it came from Titagarh in Kolkata. He added that he lives near the airport, about 15 minutes away from Titagarh. His replies suggest he is familiar with the area where the banned Manjha is sold.
Reporter: Tu ne kahan se liya tha, jo mujhe charkhi bheji thi?
Jitu: Titagarh. Local hai.
Reporter: Local hai matlab tu wahin rehta hai?
Jitu: Hum to airport side mein rehta. Wo 15 minute ka raasta hai.
[Jitu’s chat links the sample he shared to a specific location in Kolkata. We also learn that he knows the area well and claims to have bought the Manjha from there. Such details make the claim easier to verify.]
When asked whether he could supply the banned Manjha from Kolkata to Delhi, Jitu agreed without hesitation. He claimed he could handle the delivery through the courier company where he works. According to him, the consignment could be sent by road and would reach within three to four days.
Reporter: To agar Chinese Manjhe ka tujhe theka de diya jaye Delhi supply karne ka, to tu kar lega?
Jitu: Kar lunga.
Reporter: Kaise karega?
Jitu: Wahi same… XXXX. By road, 3-4 din ke andar maal.
[Jitu’s chat goes beyond availability and moves to the logistics of supplying banned Chinese Manjha. The exchange suggests he is confident about arranging interstate supply. We also learn that he claims to have a delivery route ready.]
The discussion then turns to courier deliveries. While answering questions about sending Chinese Manjha to Delhi, Jitu made a startling claim. He said that he had earlier used the courier company where he works to send banned drugs, ganja (marijuana), from Kolkata to Bengaluru, in consignments weighing 5-6 kg. He also explains how, according to him, such parcels are disguised to avoid detection.
Reporter: Hain… weed? Weed matlab charas?
Jitu: Nahi re… ganja. Wo bheja Bangalore, Kolkata se… XXXXX se.
Reporter: Courier se bheja?
Jitu: Courier se bheja. Kab bheja… wo mere is phone mein nahi hai, Us phone mein hai. Ek-do mahina nahi, do-teen mahine pehle.
Jitu: 5-5, 6-6 kg ganja bheja.
Reporter: 5-6 kg ganja bheja?
Jitu: Haan, aaram se le liya.
Reporter: Aapne XXXXX courier se Kolkata se Bangalore bheja?
Jitu: Haan. Hum aapko slip bhi dikha denge. Par hum log ko pata hai na kya likhna chahiye, kya checking hota hai, kya naam likhna chahiye. Ab jaise ye pyaz hai… hum is pyaz ko pack kiya aur isko koi medicine ka naam de diya. Kagaz pe medicine likh diya, gaadi mein rakh diya aur wo nikal gaya.
[Jitu’s chat takes an unexpected turn when Jitu claims he has used courier services to transport contraband ganja. We also learn how he says parcels are disguised to avoid checks. If true, such methods expose serious gaps in monitoring.]
The discussion then takes a more serious turn. Jitu claims that not only the banned Manjha, but even firearms and other illegal items can be transported through the courier service. He says small weapons can pass through without difficulty. According to him, almost any banned item can be delivered. These claims made by Jitu during the conversation however are unverified.
Reporter: Hatiyar wagera sab… revolver etc.?
Jitu: Haan, chhota samaan hoga, nikal jayega.
Reporter: Revolver wagera nikal jayegi?
Jitu: Haan.
Reporter: Kaun kaun se item?
Jitu: Koi bhi item.
Reporter: Jo bhi ban, illegal hain, saare?
Jitu: Haan… wo hum bhijwa denge.
[The chat takes another disturbing turn as Jitu claims even arms and other banned items can be sent through the courier network. We also learn that he believes small consignments can escape detection. Such claims, though unverified, raise serious questions about monitoring.]
Jitu admitted that he had seen, first-hand, people getting injured and even dying because of Chinese Manjha. Despite this, he said he was still ready to supply the banned Manjha from Kolkata to Delhi.
Reporter: Bada khatarnak hota hai. Us se log bhi marr gaye hain Chinese Manjha se.
Jitu: Accident bhi hote hain. Jo helmet lekar chala raha hai, jiske yahan kaanch nahi hota, uska yahan se lekar yahan tak katke nikal gaya.
Reporter: Gurden kat jati hai!?
Jitu: Aankh ke saamne dekha hai maine ye sab!
[The dialogue reveals a striking contradiction. Jitu admits he has seen the deadly impact of Chinese Manjha with his own eyes, yet says he is willing to supply it. We see how profit can sometimes outweigh concern for human life.]
When asked whether the Kolkata Police had ever raided him for selling Chinese Manjha, Jitu made a serious allegation. He claimed that policemen accept cash from those caught, confiscate the Manjha, and later return it to the sellers. According to him, this cycle allows the banned product to be sold again.
Reporter: Kabhi pakde nahi gaye? Police ne raid nahi ki Chinese Manjhe ki?
Jitu: Pakadne ki kya? Police to khud khata hai. By chance agar hota bhi hai to wo “cell” nahi hota, bomb (cracker)… wo bhi ban hai.
Reporter: Kaun sa “cell”?
Jitu: Cell ho gaya… rocket ek ho jata hai, charkhi warkhi, wo jo upar jaakar phatta hai (all crckers), wo sab ban hai. Police ko pata hota hai ki ye yahan se sale hota hai. Policewala bahar khada rehta hai. Koi lekar nikle, hum usko pakde. Wo kya karta hai? 500 rupees le leta hai, uska samaan le leta hai, phir usi ko jaakar de aata hai charkhi wale ko. Phir wo dobara bechta hai. Yahi hai, police sab mein rehta hai, bhaiya.
[The chat shifts from enforcement to alleged corruption. We also learn that bribes and the return of seized Manjha help keep the illegal trade alive. If true, such practices would weaken the purpose of the ban.]
After Jitu Singh, Tehelka met Javed Khan [name changed], whose friend, Shyam Kumar from Shahdara, Delhi, was ready to sell us Chinese Manjha at the rate of Rs 500 per roll. However, according to Javed, Shyam would not deal with us directly and would instead conduct the transaction through him.
Kite flying is a popular sport in India and Pakistan. There was even a time when men fought fierce battles in the skies with their kites. But today, kite fighting has also become associated with danger. There have been many attempts to make kite flying safer, or ban it altogether. In India, the police in Chennai have organised street plays and school programmes to spread awareness about the dangers of flying kites with hazardous strings. Laws prohibiting abrasive kite strings are in place in many parts of the country. States such as Punjab, Maharashtra and Gujarat have banned Chinese Manjha, while the national capital, Delhi, has a nearly four-decade-old law that prohibits flying kites with strings that could cause “danger, injury or alarm to persons, animals or property”. Yet these laws remain difficult to enforce, and many kite enthusiasts continue to buy or make such strings illegally at home.
Tehelka‘s investigation into the banned Chinese Manjha, carried out in Agra, Kolkata and Delhi, found little evidence that the ban has had any real impact. Manjha suppliers were found openly defying the law and confidently offering banned Chinese Manjha for sale. Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) leader Rajendra Gandhi has also led protests against the sale of Chinese Manjha in Varanasi. The Delhi and Allahabad High Courts have, on separate occasions, passed orders against its sale. Despite these measures, the illegal trade continues unabated, exposing serious gaps in enforcement, even as innocent people continue to lose their lives across India.











