Poem - 3

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Right Brothers





PARTHA Sinha
Purba Bardhaman, West Bengal

 

 

For an important task, 

I’ll take a night flight to China.

No time to stay there; 

I'll return the very next day!

After booking my Airbus ticket 

and donning my coat,

I reached the airport even

 before dusk fell afloat!

Early in the morning, 

my security check was done.

The flight was delayed, 

so I had to wait—no fun!

By 6 o'clock, I was at the 

guesthouse, tired and grim.

Outside, the wind howled, 

and dark clouds loomed dim.

The seats were mostly empty, 

passengers were few.

Under night’s eerie glow, 

it gave a chilling view!

Ahead of me sat two gentlemen, 

deeply engrossed in chatter.

Their curly hair seemed familiar—

did it even matter?

They said, "Brother, where are you 

headed? A storm will soon rage.

Tonight's flight won't take off—

go back home, disengage!"

“How do you know this?” I asked, 

surprised by their insight.

“We are the inventors of airplanes—

the Wright Brothers, right?”

But in a flash, the chairs were empty—

where did they go?

The storm grew stronger, and yes, 

the flight was canceled though!



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