I found this in my housing society compound the other day. I couldn’t resist clicking a photograph of this. It took me 30 years behind in a time where I was the pilot of many such paper airplanes.
All the childhood memories have flashed in front of me; like a film one after another. I can’t forget anything.
This is the first flight I, and most all of my age, have taken in life. I still remember making such airplanes from papers of school notebooks—after I graduated into a higher standard. I used to fly them all day long from the terrace. The ground used to get filled with such planes and each and every piece has its own style of flying. This was the only sport where no one reprimanded me because it didn’t hurt anyone and Clean India wasn’t on the priority list.
At 37, having traveled hundreds of times in a real airplane, this paper machine is, I feel, irreplaceable. I am sad that I don’t fly anymore but the truth is that I was the pilot of many such airplanes and this was my first flight.