Awakening of India - 1947

[A/N: Happy Independence Day to every Indian 🗿❤️‍🔥🇮🇳]

Bombay – Santacruz Airport – June 8th, 1948

The early morning sun cast long shadows across the tarmac at Santacruz Airport, its golden rays dancing off the wings of the gleaming silver aircraft that had drawn a crowd of dignitaries and onlookers.

The air buzzed with excitement, quite similar, if not more, than when India launched it's first indigenous steamship.

Arjun Mehra stood at the edge of the gathered crowd, with his hands clasped behind his back as he studied the magnificent Lockheed Constellation before him.

Its name, "Malabar Princess," which was painted boldly on its nose, shimmered under the sunlight.

The aircraft was a thing of mechanical beauty indeed. Sleek, modern, and powerful. Though it still is nowhere close to the ones he remember seeing in his previous life.

But for now, this was more than just an airplane. This was their declaration to the world that it belonged among the modern nations, that it could reach across oceans on its own terms, even though the plane itself was bought from a foreign nation.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Sardar Patel's voice carried a note of genuine satisfaction as he joined Arjun. The Iron Man of India looked unusually relaxed, his usual stern expression softened by what could almost be called pride.

"Indeed," Arjun replied, his gaze still fixed on the aircraft.

"Just a month ago, Bharat stepped into the naval industry, and now, it's the aviation. But you'll soon see Sardar-ji, that things like these, will become rather frequent occurrences in the near future", Arjun said, as he chuckled while thinking about future.

The passengers were beginning to board, and Arjun watched each one with keen interest.

J.R.D. Tata, the visionary who was behind today's historic event, walked up the gangway with his wife, carrying goodwill messages from India's industrial heart.

Behind them came two young cyclists, H.B. Malcolm and R.R. Noble, their faces bright with the innocent excitement of athletes heading to represent their nation at the upcoming Olympic Games in London.

"Look at them," Patel observed. "Each one carries a piece of India's story."

Arjun nodded as well, though he couldn't help but think about the Olympics. According to his memory, there was nothing remarkable about this Olympic event except for the hockey sports, where India had won gold many times.

Similar to this, except for gold and sometime an individual medal, nothing much happened in the future Olympics. But he would change that. He'll ensure India becomes one of the leading nations in sports. But that's for later.

Among the other passengers who were boarding the plane were Mr. and Mrs. Keki Mody, prominent figures in Bombay's social circles.

Mr. and Mrs. Fazelbhoy chatted animatedly with Mr. Neville Wadia near the aircraft's entrance. These weren't just wealthy travelers; they were symbols of India's diverse, cosmopolitan elite, ready to represent their nation on the world stage.

Patel nodded approvingly. "This fine bird takes India directly to London. No more begging for passage on British carriers."

Arjun agreed," Of course, not to mention, Malabar Princess represents much more than just the growing aviation sector of India.

It also acts as a tool to project our soft power, our modernity, and our ambitions. After all, great nations need more than just a great military might."

It spoke of progress, trade, cultural exchange, and a modern state that could build and connect, not just conquer and control.

He thought back to his speech in the UN regarding India's democratic constitution by year's end.

And this civilian flight, connecting Bombay to London via Cairo and Geneva, was also a visible symbol of India as a stable, forward-looking democracy, integrated into the global community. It was the perfect counter-narrative to any lingering concerns about his methods.

Of course, nothing was left to chance. IB operatives, carefully embedded among the security detail and even among some of the less conspicuous passengers, ensured not just physical safety but also monitored the flow of information.

The media would capture exactly the intended narrative: a confident, thriving India taking its rightful place on the world stage.

As part of the planned celebration for this monumental event, a unique 12-anna postage stamp had been issued, valid only for this inaugural flight, proudly carrying India's first tricolor international airmail.

All India Radio provided extensive live coverage from the airport, its microphones capturing the excitement, interviewing prominent figures and even Captain Guzdar, the chief pilot, just before the flight.

His calm, reassuring voice speaking of the journey ahead, underscored the message of India's newfound capabilities.

The boarding process was nearing completion. Ground crew members made their final checks, their movements precise and professional.

The aircraft's four powerful engines began their warm-up cycle, filling the air with a deep, resonant thrum that gradually built to a mighty roar.

"Just one more decade," Arjun said quietly as he looked on, his voice barely audible over the engine noise. "One more decade until India will have the capacity to look those so called elite nations right in their eye."

The crowd fell silent as the Constellation began its taxi toward the runway. Children pressed against the viewing fence, their eyes wide with wonder. Dignitaries raised their hands in farewell. Camera flashes captured the historic moment.

Arjun felt a sense of satisfaction as he watched the aircraft position itself for takeoff.

While the BSF fortified the nation's extended borders and the vast administrative machinery consolidated its control, the Malabar Princess was about to soar into the sky, carrying India's hopes and its shining global identity across continents.

The engines reached full power, and the silver bird began its acceleration down the runway. The crowd held its breath as the aircraft lifted off, its landing gear retracting smoothly as it climbed into the clear blue sky.

A wave of cheers erupted from the gathered onlookers. The Constellation climbed higher and higher, its silver form gradually shrinking against the vast expanse of sky. It banked gracefully westward, heading toward the very lands that had once ruled India.

Patel clapped his hands together once, a gesture of finality. "And there she goes. India's wings, carrying our flag to the outside world."

Arjun watched until the aircraft disappeared completely into the boundless blue.

As the crowd began to disperse, chattering excitedly about what they had witnessed, Arjun remained still for a moment longer.

This was India's true strength, not just the ability to defend itself, but the power to inspire, to connect, and to transform.

"Well, with this, one more task crossed off my checklist I guess. Our 1st independence anniversary is close. I'm really excited to see how we have progressed so far", Arjun though with a small smile on his face.