Copyright@shravancharitymission
CAUSERIE—AERIAL SIGNALS
I was young then. My uncle used to stay in Niralanagar,
a posh colony of Lucknow. That was not very far from my home. He had an adjacent
neighbour. Who, happened to be a Flight Lieutenant with the Indian Air Force. His
name was Palta. Attached to the transport squadron and posted in
Bakshi-ka-talab, the defence airport, of Lucknow. His chic and suave wife was Rita.
Good looking. And, quite in line, with the upbeat image of the armed forces
wives.
He often used to pilot the morning
flight at 7 a.m. to Guwahati. It used to take him about five to six hours. Because,
enroute, he used to off-load cargo at Bagdogra airport in West Bengal. Next day
he used to return in the same manner from his sojourn. Where, he normally used
to take-off from Guwahati at seven. And, after touching Bagdogra again, he used
to reach Lucknow by around 1 P.M.
I often used to go to my
uncle’s house those days, to meet my cousins. He had a huge terrace in his
house. Where, we used to go and play. And, whilst, on the terrace, I often used
to notice Rita aunty, sitting in one corner of the terrace alone with her
umbrella open under the hot sun. I used to wonder why. But I never bothered to
ask.
One day, when the suspense
became unbearable. I decided to break it. So I asked, ‘Aunty, why do you come
and sit under the hot sun?’ she smiled at me and asked.
‘Who are you?’
‘Well, I am Bina’s cousin. I
often come here, to spend time with her. But each time I came here. I saw you
sitting in that corner with your umbrella, under the hot sun. So, I thought of
asking you.’ She looked at me and smiled and then said.
‘I must say you are very
observant beta. I’m waiting for your uncle. He should be coming any moment now.’
And with that she grinned again. I didn’t quite understand what she meant. I
began to mull, ‘waiting for uncle and that too in the terrace in the peak of
summers.’ It really wasn’t making any sense.
‘But is he going to fall from
the sky that you’re waiting here aunty?’ I asked a bit loudly. She laughed in
amusement.
‘You want to see him coming?’
‘Yes aunty.’
‘Then just wait here.’
The suspense was beginning to
get more interesting. So I decided to wait. Even when it was lunch time and I
was hungry. After about ten minutes. I could hear the faint sound of an approaching
aircraft. Soon, it grew louder. Is when, aunty stood up and closed her umbrella,
and started waving it, at the aircraft. That was now descending on the nearby airport
and wasn’t very high. Is when, I saw. The pilot had dipped the left wings of
the aircraft. And after a little while it vanished behind the tall trees.
Skyscrapers had not come up by then. After the sound of the aircraft subsided,
she looked at me and said. ‘That was uncle.’ I asked.
‘How do you know Aunty?’
‘Didn’t you see? He dipped the
wings of the aircraft. Until, it went behind the trees. That signal was for me.
‘Aunty, but why did he do that?’
She smiled again and said,
‘Beta to announce his arrival. Now I need to go and cook for him.’
‘And what will you cook?
‘That’s a good question. If he
dips the left wings, it would mean non-veg. Right would mean veg. And, if he doesn’t
dip, either, that would mean no lunch. So bye! For now as I need to go and
cook.’ And with that she went away.
I was dazed for a moment. I
too went down for lunch. And after about forty five minutes. I could hear the
sound of Mr Palta’s bike.
Many years have passed since
then. I don’t even know where Mrs Palta is. But, I could never forget this small
and sweet incident that reflects so much about her love and concern for her
husband. And, last but not the least. How they learnt to communicate from the
sky, with each other—like in semaphores. When, mobile phones were not even
invented.
*****
No comments:
Post a Comment