Looking at life-scale models of in-service and decommissioned aircraft at the H.A.L museum is akin to strolling through a zoo for birds. Caged.
The technological marvel that flying is — flying with panache and gusto — the work of our forefathers in the late 50s and early 60s has mostly gone unnoticed in the eye of the public. Today, with multiple back-to-back MiG failures and with very few news-making forays into indigenous fighter planes and technologies, H.A.L and our entire aircraft capabilities seem non-existent but apparently, it wasn’t so just thirty, forty or fifty years back.
The Hall-2 of the museum is a circular structure with a small fountain at the center, a concentric walkway and many large rooms filled with pictures and small models propped in the center of the rooms. Each room is dedicated to a specific decade of H.A.L’s existence. The 60s, the 70s, the 80s, the 90s… so on.
It was a happy accident that I happened to walk counter-clockwise (or was it clockwise?). So, instead of walking through the annals in a chronological order, I started time-traveling backwards, from the present decade towards the 1950s, when H.A.L was founded.
H.A.L of the 2000s, of the present era, is full of replicas and imitations of what Western and Soviet powers have already done. At least, that’s how it appears. Our FGFAs aren’t ground-breaking radical ideas. Our copters aren’t Apache-class yet. Some of them look like toys in comparison.
But as I tread past these, into the 90s, 80s, 70s and then the 60s, innovation, boldness, large-scale ideas and a palpable sense of courage to go out there and do great things radiate from the large photos hanging on the walls. Back then, the sepia-toned photos show us men of traditional upbringing most likely in love with beaurocracy and red-tape, but the ideas being worked upon in the hangars and the machine shops … they were huge. And bold. And probably lifted us off in a great direction.
In many ways, it was definitely like walking away from a mediocre present and into a glorious past. A past filled with ambition and conviction.
Back in the bus home, as I was jotting this down, I was overcome with doubt. Is this nostalgia an illusion I’m suffering from or is it the truth we, as a country, are suffering from?
“Do not walk on the grass”. A dozen or more placards planted into the grass declare this. Sometimes, politely, with a “Please” prefixed. Sometimes, plainly. Sometimes, poetically, with invocations of beauty and eco-friendliness.
But sure there are those wise specimens who’d walk straight on the grass. For photos, for a shortcut to the other foot-path, or for f*ck’s sake, I don’t know.
Ah, photos.
A girl clad in some designer cloth that looks like a cape trying to kiss the ground at all times, taking a selfie with that trainer aircraft.
Two guys trying to capture themselves with a “serene” environment - the framing does the trick of capturing just that part of the environment where there’s enough grass, trees, flowers and such.
I wonder what goes on in people’s minds (besides the obvious narcissistic need to immortalize our moments only to forget all about them in a few weeks) when they click photos of themselves or of their people. Do they think about the wiring on that turbo-prop that H.A.L built, with licensing permission from Rolls-Royce? Or of the fact that a MiG can actually take you from New Delhi to Chennai in less than an hour if it wanted to?
Speaking of which, the museum should also put a 1:1 model of some “AWE&C”.