The wilderness of adventure

It had been ages since it had happened to me last – The familiar rush of adrenalin, the lined drops of perspiration, the same intense feeling and the inner voice quietly cooing “Oh my god! Not again” with an accompanied punch in the gut.

It was time for the family’s annual trip. The usual reaction I get from most people when I say that is… “Great man! Wonderful, isn’t it? There’s going to be a whole family, laughing and having fun, clicking and posing away for pictures that will all soon be edited and uploaded on the social networking sites… Aaah! Bliss.”

But, think again. This is all but that. It was more of an annual dread.

Our grandfather was 75 and he looked young and what more? He pretended that way too. *sigh*. He was the one responsible for the dread and because of this; he soon became popular as ‘Hitler’.

I was known to repeat the same lines every December – “Oh God! Can’t I fall sick? Can’t I sprain my ankle? Can nothing possess me, but for this feeling of dread for LIFE!?” I was totally sick of this maneuver.

Let’s rewind back… Zoooi... zoooi.. zoooi.. *Flash back*...

It all started when I was 9 years of age, A little kid, as innocent and pink as the tulips. I was particularly excited about this trip, but my other siblings looked down upon me like I just said and felt something out of this galaxy! I soon began to understand why…

Being woken up at 4 am on a chilly December morning is not really a good idea, strangely not even close to having a lovely start for the most awaited trip. Pulling up our jerseys and hiking boots we set out, but the disheveled hair and sleepy eyes tell one how much it was a pain in the medulla oblongata. My grandfather always had this line in his pocket, “No borrowing, no begging… And of course, no stealing.” So we were all required to have our own travel gear and not keep screaming “You can do it’s, while on an adventure sport.

The camping is a lot more dreadful. Damp earth, the smell of the previous nights burnt barbeque, the mosquitoes humming to glory in your ears, creepy crawlies seduced with your blood, snakes slithering away like you were just the branch of a tree… and a whole lot of other “yeww…” I wish I could really use smiley like on the IMs, It would have definitely been a lot easier to express.

All of us had a bagful of phobias when we started off. Fear of plunging into teeth - clattering water, heights, slipping away into nothingness, reptiles, swinging in mid air… My oh my! And at the end of it all gratefulness is all that is felt for that great man.

I still remember the time I was knocked off a little boat (Of course with a life jacket! Duh!) Into waters filled with tiny Indian alligators, toads, slimy algae and what not! I obviously did not know how to swim, I flapped my arms like a duck withering its wings in water couldn’t breathe and then I did learn… I can’t say with great confidence that I can river raft, but I’d sure say “Why not? Sounds like fun!” instead of the “that sounds like something to do with water! No ways dude!” Now, if I get thrown into the Pacific, I can still find my way and beat Columbus in his navigational capabilities!

On one of these trips, I was expected to paraglide on the Calangute beach, Goa. With smirking faces, frowns from macho men and skimpily clad women, thumbs ups from my cousins, I did try. I suddenly realized I was hanging on to a rod like thing with a parachute fluttering high above me, and I was over the aqua blue waters, A scary experience but a beautiful thing to do, at least ONCE in a life time.

I still have the fear of slipping away on the slopes, on some hiking adventure. But my cousins often tease me, “With the best Adidas gear, impossible is nothing!” The trip next scheduled is to the Grand Canyon. Obviously we won’t be hiking on it!!! (Or at least, I hope not.) Impossible is nothing for Adidas and with my Grand father! Let’s just hope I’m alive and breathing until my next adventure, and hopefully even after that, and I don’t die of a nervous break down or something!