When I Was a Kid...

When I was a kid, I used to play with kids next door. Suddenly a faint fluttering sound would appear. We would stop playing and listen carefully. When luck is by our side, the sound would steadily grow and grow. And one of the boys would cry "There!" Pointing his finger towards somewhere in the sky. A grey dot would appear. "Wow! Helicopter!” We would run behind it, street after street till the helicopter vanishes again with that faint fluttering sound in to the horizon. We used to stare at the sky for some time with the stray hope that it may return.

Sometimes the sound of a Bullet bike next street or some load-auto on road would cause me to run out and stare the sky and when the sound fades quickly, it was time to realize that it was not a helicopter and return home to face my mom awaiting to scold me for leaving the lunch behind. Rainy seasons were somewhat different. The moist air would make hearing the flying machines easy but clouds would make it tough to get a glimpse of them.

Jets and small planes used by forest department in nearby hills were like unicorns and mermaids. They were very rare, hard to spot and usually less visible due to distance and height. The smoke left behind by jets would remain for sometime and I used to stare at the sky with mouth open till the smoke dissolve in to the blue sky. Night time sightings were special due to those colorful blinking lights.

Me and my friends even believed that by climbing on a tree or roof of a tall building we can touch the helicopter or at least distract the people inside to drop us something. We tried that with my house's roof. Nothing happened! Then we thought my house was not tall enough. Some "big brothers" even told tales of hitting planes with stones, which we never believed but promptly nodded to them out of fear.

Then days rolled... I was an adolescent back then. I would be sitting with a book and reading or helping my dad with totalling corrected answer sheets when that familiar humming sound was heard. "Yes. It is a helicopter!" My heart would want to run out and look at the sky. But "grown up boys” won't be that silly right? That's what people say. So with a sigh, I used to continue what I was doing.

Now, after many years, I live near an airport. With hundreds of flights coming and going everyday. I work in upper floors of a very tall building and could see the flights even though it is bit far from the airport. Now I even earn enough to fly occasionally. But I have no time to stare at the sky, no interest left in watching them. I live/work in tall buildings but don't believe that i can touch the flights any more.

Last time I was bit excited about the sky was, when I accidentally clicked a photo of exploding space craft sent by ISRO. And dreams about reaching for the skies lasted seconds when I saw in news that NASA is looking for volunteers for a one way trip to Mars. Yup! We used to see beauty in petty things and longed for them to happen. Once grown up, things we thought boring when we were kids, like paying electricity bills or buying ration becomes priority. And this is the real beauty of our life!