As the taxi made its way up to the take-off point, he felt himself growing weaker. His palms were sweaty, and his head seemed to be getting heavier. Do any of the others see how scared I am? He leaned his face against the window to get some support.
I have to get through this, he thought. Focus on your breath. Observe the physical sensations. Part by part, he scanned his body, starting from each of his toes and ending with his hair. His stomach was churning with nervousness, but he forced himself to move on. If it feels good when you’re observing a part of your body, move on. Don’t get attached to the good feelings. If it feels bad, move on. Don’t try to change the bad feelings. If you feel nothing, stay a while, breathe a little, and move on. He felt the window pushing on the side of his forehead, and opened his eyes. The forest was moving away from him in a slow blur as the taxi grunted forward. His head was a little lighter, his stomach more calm, and his palms less sweaty, but an uneasy background of fear still permeated everything. He closed his eyes and started scanning again.
“Wake up, dude, we’re here”, Rishabh said.
He made his way behind the others to the queue take-off, taking care to make sure that he wouldn’t be the first in line.
When he started unpacking, he felt the fear creeping up again. This time, before he could bring himself to notice his breath, he started thinking of the last time he was here.
Two months ago, our protagonist was about to take off on his second solo flight. All the safety checks were done, and the glider looked good. He was confident, he was ready, and he was excited.
“Feel the wind”, Rishabh told him. “When you think it’s right, you can take off. I won’t say anything.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. He felt the cool breeze on his face — not too strong, not too weak. Just right. He opened his eyes. “This seems good”, he told Rishabh.
“If you think it’s right, it’s right. Do it!”
He started running — almost in place — and the glider unfurled and started coming up behind him, strong and majestic.
As he inched forward, he felt the wind dying down. Shit! Shit! He pulled on the brake as hard as he could.
“Keep going”, Rishabh shouted. “It’s too late to back off now. The wind is good!”
But he couldn’t bring himself to get back into take-off mode. He felt the glider go over his head and then start coming down like a broken parachute. It went over the cliff and then pulled him down with it.
He fell about twenty feet to a small ledge in the cliff. The glider continued falling further, and suddenly he felt himself being pulled. He stopped right at the edge. A foot or two further, and he would have hurtled fifty more feet down to the road.
He pulled the glider up, and then climbed back up to the takeoff point.
“That was stupid. You could have died, dude”, Rishabh said, his dreadlocks somehow emphasising his contempt.
It wasn’t until our protagonist sat down that he realized that his left foot was hurting. A lot. “I think I’m injured”, he said weakly. “I need to see a doctor.”
At the local hospital, the doctor told him he probably had either a serious sprain or a mild fracture. The owner of the local cafe lent him her crutch while he recovered. “Just give it back when you get better”, she said with a smile.
For the next two weeks, going to the toilet was unbearable. Theoretically, he just needed to not put any weight on the leg, but in practice this was impossible because he was as clumsy as a drunk monkey.
Over one month, and a lot of pain and limping, he recovered and returned the crutch. “I want to try flying again,” he told his instructor.
“Judge the wind, and don’t fall off the cliff this time,” Rishabh said, smiling when our protagonist’s turn came.
He smiled back weakly. The fall was replaying on repeat in his mind. Breathe. Feel your face. Feel the wind on your cheeks. There was a light breeze. He looked at the little wind-indicator ribbon. It was fluttering gently in the right direction.
It was time.
He started running and pulled the glider up behind him. The memory of his fall tried to enter his mind, but was blocked by a wall of intense focus. The glider came up behind him. He leaned forward, ran, and then was off in the air. He moved back and sat in his harness. “Woooo!!”, he shouted in triumph at the world beneath his feet.
He turned left towards some other gliders and felt the rush of a thermal pulling him up. The Himalayas surrounded him. Off in the distance, probably towards Manali, there was snow. Experienced pilots could make it all the way there, riding on thermals and ridges without landing.
The Bir valley looked like a snaking river between hills covered by pine trees.
An immense peace flooded into his body and he felt himself smiling. It was a great freedom: just him, the glider, and the wind. For a brief moment, he felt he was an eagle soaring in a thermal. Life was so open, so magical, so exhilarating.
He imagined taking off the harness and becoming a bird. Surely, he would grow wings and fly rather than fall.
Even if he did fall, it would be the most beautiful fall he could imagine. Beautiful trees and monasteries would welcome him into their arms. Everyone would imagine that his fear had caused him to go crazy and jump to his death. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to see the smile on his disfigured face.
He spent the rest of the time singing songs to himself. After twenty minutes of flying time, he landed. It was awkward, but nothing to be ashamed of.
The next day, he got into a cab, and flew again.
….his dreadlocks somehow emphasising his contempt - So bloody good! I loved reading this and again, what a fabulous narrative tone does to the reader when it is done right!
What a delight it is to travel with you, one post a time Pritam…I went Woooo!!
Pritam , what a great adventure. It must take lots of guts to again attempt it .. Loved the way you have given pointer sort to people who want to lead adventure led life.. I did parasailing once but don't think could do again ... so you are a inspiration. Way to go !!