Toughest Things!

What would be the toughest thing to do?

Definitions differ.

Walking onto a dais and speaking for the first time in my life was perhaps the scariest thing I had ever done. It was certainly much shuddery than the first assessment result or the rebuke of parents at your own silly wickedness.

“Class V Extempore competition is to begin and I request the first contestant to come up the stage.”

I was secretly wishing that the announcer’s sheet vanished or his throat turned sore. The rain drench the stage, the microphone broke down or the dacoits attack! Unfortunately neither of the unlikely things occurred.

As though those words were hot iron rods that struck my leg and seized me from moving a step forward. A shiver ran past my spine and I could sense the drip of sweat drench my forehead.

Experiences certainly do teach but for such incidents, which are better to be quoted than underwent, experiences sometimes are indeed “Breath taking”.

Regrettably such embarrassing moments turn out to become the laughing stock for people who grin as you mention it to them and all you can do is to get a silly smile across your face.

Another such thing would be handling two phones at a time.

Believe me when I say how baffling it is to answer calls of two distinguished people at the same time.

“Tring Ring” went the first line. “Who is it?” I called out. A friend of mine. Finally a break from studies but wait…another call.

“Hey! What’s up with you?” and here begins the thrill.

“Do I call you back in some time? I am busy presently.” BEEP. The lines dead. Relief.

Back on Line 1. Hello? Anybody there? But no…Line dead.

Perhaps the wrong person at the wrong time always hears the wrong message.

Conclusion: Absolute pandemonium.

I am sure some would certainly give the first credential of this category, with respect to their past experiences, to cross a road!

A whole bunch of vehicles swarming from one end of the road to the other with no apparent reason (is how it seems to me!) and an ignorant raised platform called a footpath which drivers and riders prefer to forget!

Look here, step there, eyes go left, right, straight, back ...Look out!!

And if you happen to fail (Not in terms of accident, In terms of perfection), these become, as I mentioned earlier- "the favourite tea-time chit-chat".

Journey to Heaven

Zoom went up the gigantic mass of synthetic mixed cloth as hot air was pumped into it.

In that cold freezing weather of Cappadocia, it was the gust of hot air that gave relief to the body and fingers which were almost frost bitten due to the intense chill at dawn.

Big, Bigger and the Biggest size ever. A small rectangular box attached to it where sat ten people inclusive of the guide. I too belonged to one of them.

A blast of hot air and a temporary farewell to the land. Here began our journey up towards heaven. All set to compete with the wind that blew over our faces.

Precisely terrorized by the height factor, trying to conquer my alto phobia, I nodded on and on with others as they cheered.

High and low, we flew in rhythm of the wind. We were then engulfed by the atmosphere full of exclamations and clicks of the camera. Feets beneath us lay the once natural catastrophically hit volcano city of Cappadocia.

Sky was the limit. Our eyes could scan everything varying from the snow capped mountains to the rivers, cave houses to the ages old pigeon valleys, from the sun risen in the east to the beautifully lighten ranges in the west.

The resettling of the rocks layer by layer with a striking collection of red due to iron, yellow due to sulphur and white owing to the presence of quartz made me give this view its appropriate title, what it seemed to the rest also from our balloon -“Picture Perfect”.

The ecstasy ran everywhere in our body (Blending precisely with a little left fear for heights in me) and it showed how much we were feeling to be in paradise as our balloon reached 2,000 feet above the ground.

We were overlooking a huge mass of jigsaw puzzle.

We taped the entire panoramic view interrupted by studs (Those were other balloons flying with us) amidst the sky. Believe me, I absolutely avoided showing that alarmed expression over my face which slowly, and quite strangely was disappearing as we were ascending higher.

Swaying all the way, our guide landed us into the van awaiting our return. Bump into the box and fizz went up the champagne bottle. “Cheers” we said and celebrated.

Although I do not know what others drank for, I was indeed celebrating, secretly thanking the guide for getting me back!

And so I feel that the one and half hour bliss that I cherished then (accompanied with what has reduced to be a minute fraction of panic), even till today makes me feel closer to heaven.

Surabhi

Experience of the hot air balloon in Cappadocia, Turkey

Down To Earth

Beneath the brightly shining sun on a Saturday morning, I waited at the shuttle stand for my second-time-sweat-drenched shirt to dry up.

Feeling a little awkward (with so much sweat on my body) I looked around at people.

Gratefully, some other decent people also wore similar kinds of expression on their faces.

On the stand, the chauffeurs of these shuttles moved about inviting people to enjoy the roller coaster ride of their whirlwinds (as though they were fishermen trying to sell their fishes in the local market!).

What would be the most common reaction of people: Phew! Whatever!

Very conveniently I sat in that van; yet again wiping my face and fanning myself with my soaked handkerchief.

It seemed all of a sudden that people realized they had to sit in the same shuttle. Soon squeezed in the middle, with movement = nil, I gazed around that densely populated Maruti van.

After what appeared to be an era to me, the small stuffed van, smelling of ten other people in it, thankfully started.

Ok! Time to wipe your face again! (By that time I had lost the count)

Here began the journey to my French class.

I shut my eyes (forgetting the smell of the stinky socks of my neighbour) and tried to relax. Tranquility...

But no! The driver got us in relation with a moderately used technology for sound and audio system, “The RADIO”, which was maximized to as loud as the driver could possibly hear and of course make us hear.

Consoling my ears, which were protesting against that cacophony, I tried to concentrate on my previous lessons.

A man sitting diagonal to me merrily took out his mobile phone and plugged in his earphones. (Trust me I got no clue how he could hear something louder than that radio without impairment!)

Ok! Now I know what people mean when they say “STRANGE!”

Our shuttle zoomed out through that fairly congested part of the city as the driver took off believing it to be an ace Air Force I!

After twenty minutes of sheer patience and tolerance (of that ear throbbing music), I got off and walked my way to the class.

Speeding through the road, I saw that shuttle pick up more passengers and all I uttered under my breath was “Phew! Whatever”.