Through his eyes – 3

= * =* The place* = * =

The village Kabigurunagar was an obscure place; it had four wards, the police officer and his family lived in ward number four. If it were at all known to few it was because there was a flying club where flying lessons were being given on two-seaters throughout the year and every year there used to be a show, an one-day-event, when small planes, not more than two feet in length were being flown by many young flight enthusiasts who used to come from the city and used to speak within themselves in English, which nobody could understand. They would come in their own cars, parked on the road side which otherwise would be a completely deserted place throughout the year. That was the only time people in the village could see so many cars at the same time. The event used to draw large crowd from the surrounding villages, numbers of which were many. In a place where seeing two cars in a day was considered as a red letter day, seeing small planes flying in the backdrop of deep blue sky was considered normal. Almost every night, during winter, flying lessons were also provided after sunset, by placing torches lit with kerosene along the entire length of the runway. Small boys used to watch how small two-seater planes with blinking red lights on their wings and a bright head light started floating in air after running for some distance in between two series of kerosene torches in the backdrop of absolute darkness. But they could never spend long hours because the area was full of wild animals like jackals, wild dogs and also poisonous snakes.

[To be continued]

Email:  mintughoshal@gmail.com

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