Skip to main content

Dogfighting

The father and son are one example; the daughter-in-law and mother-in-law being another. It may be due to my never-ending fascination for planes and fighter jets that I feel that the struggle between these two resemble dogfights.


Yes, a dogfight is close air-to-air combat. One aircraft is already airborne and thinks it is the master of the skies. In comes, the friendly, but the already airborne one's radar detects it as an enemy. Alas! Dogfight ensues until one has to fall.


The Mig 29 father has been the breadwinner of the family all the while. His Sukhoi son grows up, marries, gives two grandchildren for the family to cradle and play. Both have their roles to play in defending the family. But in the mental combat for mastery of the family skies, both their radars get locked as enemies. The same is for the C 130 J Super Hercules (mother-in-law). She has been master of the kitchen skies and can't even think of an Apache Helicopter coming into her space to test its airworthiness (read as culinary skills). The C 130 J has always been the tactical air-lifter but fails to realize the skills of the Apache due to radar malfunction.


However, perfect an aircraft is made at that time, it wears out its wings and becomes obsolete in avionics. There is no doubt it has done its fair share of winning wars for the family. But when newer birds get added into the family fleet, the transition to hand over the responsibilities to the next pilot should be done gracefully as friendly combat patterns and not as dogfights with enemies.


Wheelies, last-minute aborts, or ejections may happen in many decisions they take in the family. The transition of power should strike a perfect blend of symbiotic trust and mutual respect with no space for oil leaks or nut squeaks. And if the veteran, hawk-eyed Marshall details instead of dogfight the squadron leader as to how to conquer the skies, they will never make a mistake and will always be bound to make their flight a perfect one. 


 

Labels:

Comments

  1. UnknownDecember 12, 2020 at 10:50 PM

    Perfect thought...Really it's an unwanted fight or rather the dogfight ....but it never ends,..Transmitted through generations 👌👌👌

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tea Truths

 After a recent flu, I found myself having a dislike for tea. I was surprised because tea had always been my favorite. Homeopathy selects medicines based on many individual traits, and I looked up in my repertory for a medicine that had an aversion to tea. I had it, and it relieved me of the flu very fast. But in the next few weeks, I saw another peculiar thing happening to me. I wasn’t enjoying the tea I made. I was weak after recovering from the flu. I wanted something to brighten me up. But tea from my regular tea shops was as tasty as before, maybe more. I was bemused.  Curiosity made me a bit restless. Darjeeling tea made with grass-fed cow milk boiled in water drawn from the well boiled with utmost care did not taste as sweet as the ones from the shops. I started my thought journey from the hills, where the tea was plucked, to the sink, where I washed my teacup. Voila, in a matter of seconds, I found it! The tea, sugar, milk, cups, teapot, and my poor old stove were not ...
4 comments
Read more

Wiped Clean

  My passion for driving always stuck with me since I got behind the wheel. Being myopic from a young age, I always wanted a clear windscreen on my car. Driving safely and being responsible for my passengers and the others on the road demanded clear driving conditions. Wiper blades are the most sensitive part of a motor car. Being exposed to nature, they wear out fast. Heavy monsoons at my place add to the woes of wet driving conditions. I replace them quite often as I have to see the road ahead clear. Nowadays, quality has deteriorated due to the increasing costs. Anyway, I replaced it on schedule. In two weeks, streaks appeared when the blades started to wipe. It bothered me as it was sooner than expected. I worried about the streaks made by the sooner worn-out part of the wiper. The road ahead was again not clear. The two streaks ran parallel and were almost at my eye level, blurring my vision of the road. I pondered for a while. Wasn't I too focused on the two little streaks ma...
1 comment
Read more

A Tale of Two Mangalores

 The fishy smell from the bamboo baskets hit my nose at the edge of the railway platform. My friend said fishing is one of the leading businesses in Mangalore. It is a port city.  I nodded, smiling at my childhood memories of Vizag Port and the morning fish smell wafting through the balconies of our home in Maharanipeta.   We were in the town of Golli Bajji for two days. That evening, we downed Ideals chocolate daddies and carrot halwa soaked in ice cream. Later, a literary stroll inside the Sapna book house. That night was reserved for a national meeting, and in a loo break, my eye caught a neon. It was an uptown place. I took a peek inside to see the nightlife in Mangalore. The place was a reflection of the affluence in that city. Rich spirits adorned the shelves, cocktails costing the earth spewed on the oaks and the chairs by people who made statements of fashion houses from across the globe. The rain-soaked morning was lazy, but I didn't want to miss my morning ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Translate