Not wanting to be late and miss anything, I had rushed the seven- and six-year-olds back from school. A day earlier, we’d managed to beg off from a special class that the seven-year-old had to attend on the day of the show, she helpfully explaining to her teacher that she had to go see the show because “my father is very excited.” Both of them were excited themselves, though they didn’t really know what to expect. The elder tween was too cool for such shows, so had refused to accompany us. For my part, I just thought it would make for a good change to get them away from the TV and other screens that form the bedrock of kids’ activities these days.

A quick change at home and we were out on Seaview in the blazing sun. We chose a relatively less populated part of the beach stretch, far away from where the VIP tents had been set up and where cars were already piling up. They’re jets after all, I reasoned, they wouldn’t be contained in one small area of the shoreline.

And then we waited.

The British Red Arrows aerobatic team put on quite a show at Karachi’s Seaview beach and saved a parental bonding exercise

What we were waiting for was the iconic Red Arrows squadron of the British Royal Air Force (RAF), who had promised the first of its kind aerobatic air show in Karachi (they’d apparently done a similar show in Islamabad 20 years ago). The Red Arrows are among the premier aerobatic teams in the world, renowned for their precision flying. Joining the RAF’s Hawks would be Pakistan’s own JF-17 Thunder fighter jets, developed jointly with the Chinese and increasingly the mainstay of Pakistan’s Air Force.

The posters had said the show would begin at 1pm. A friend who used to be in the air force had told me it would begin at 1:30pm. But here we were, still waiting. A man, who had turned up with his young granddaughter, decided to regale us with seemingly authoritative accounts of mishaps, for example, when a bird hit the cockpit of a flying jet near Masroor Airbase. We looked out over the sea at the clusters of Karachi kites circling in the sky in concern. When his stories became more and more graphic, I tried to steer the kids away from him.

A few minutes later it was gone. But this marked the entry of the nine bright-red coloured Red Arrows Hawk jets. Hawk jets are trainers and considerably slower than the combat JF-17, which made them easier to see. It also helped that they usually flew in formation and trailed blue, red and white smoke behind them.

As the clock ticked over 2:15pm, and with the kids now growing increasingly restless with the heat (in our rush we’d neglected to bring along any caps or umbrellas), I began to wonder — surely, air force chaps were supposed to be punctual, weren’t they? I got on to Twitter to ask what was going on. One person told me the show would begin at 4pm. Suddenly the parental bonding exercise didn’t seem all that exhilarating anymore and I began to think of the missed class and the office I had to get to.

But just as I was about to announce to no-doubt-disappointed kids that we’d head back home, the roar of a passing JF-17 Thunder put all such thoughts out of my head. The show had begun. The lone JF-17 executed some incredible manoeuvres, climbing straight up into the ozone and then almost free-falling down before straightening out just a few hundred metres above the sea. Thankfully, it also left off flares because following it in the glare of the bright sun was not an easy task — at times it would climb so high it would disappear from view altogether. Most of the time I was trying to point it out to the squinting six-year-old who claimed he couldn’t see anything.

A few minutes later it was gone. But this marked the entry of the nine bright-red coloured Red Arrows Hawk jets. Hawk jets are trainers and considerably slower than the combat JF-17, which made them easier to see. It also helped that they usually flew in formation and trailed blue, red and white smoke behind them.

Thankfully, their loops and twirls and daredevil runs, sometimes seemingly right at each other, made up for all the heat and the glare and the irritation-at-the-wait for the kids. Seeing them streak overhead, their red painted fuselages clearly visible suddenly made them very real for them. And, like many of those around us, they clapped when two of the jets made a perfect smoke heart in the sky, complete with an arrow through it. Nothing like giving the Hallmark touch to potential killing machines.

The show lasted only 20-25 minutes but I knew from the bright eyes at the end that at least it had saved a father’s potential chagrin at being excited for nothing.

Note to future air show organisers: it might be a good idea to reconsider the time of such shows. Looking at fast flying aircrafts out towards a glare-ridden sea with the sun behind them is not the best way to showcase the undoubted talents of the pilots.

The writer is Dawn’s Editor Magazines

Published in Dawn, EOS, October 15th, 2017