A bit of a funny ramble about my recent flight from Karachi to Lahore.

I travelled on a plane today 
And felt compelled to write 
This verse of my experiences 
On PIA’s domestic flight 

Let me start with a whinge
The seats have no leg room 
Even the petites are overcome 
By claustrophobia and doom

The stewards and the stewardesses 
Seem like they’ve just had enough 
Of meeting, greeting passengers 
Their demeanour is kind of rough 

But that’s ok, we’re a nation of
Tough minded women and men 
And there is a tad more softness
For the elderly and the children 

It was a daytime flight, post luncheon-time 
So folks had had their meals 
Some nodding off with gaping mouths
Others snoring with extra zeal 

The plane jerked forward and began 
To taxi on the concrete 
While the stalls held two or more
Full bladder emergencies 

Off we lifted off and then 
We climbed up to the clouds 
There was a bit of turbulence 
There were loud prayers from the devout 

As we levelled off the crew
Started on their inflight missions 
Soon the plane transformed into 
Zubaida’s Desi Kitchen

And of course everyone there 
Ate a second meal 
Food is integral to our 
National look and feel 

Soon the air was rent with 
Loud belches and with sighs
The pungent vapor wafting ‘tween
The seats and in the aisles 

An overhead bin flew open
With a painful, turgid groan  
A fit finale to the meal that had 
Endowed its own bloat 

The icing on the cake was
The toffees on the tray 
And our disembarkation
In a half-civilised way 

One prevented a stampede 
Of desperate humanity
One a choti meethi* offering 
For PIA’s eccentricity.

* Choti Meethi: :small and sweet” in Urdu