“A beautiful morning to the beautiful ladies,” hollered the trek leader, jolting the still morning air. Geetha flinched. A few of the younger women giggled. “Step in closer please. I want to see every face when I give the brief.” Geetha shuffled forward, instinctively tucking behind the nearest shoulders. 


They were a varied bunch: several young, bright-eyed women who mirrored the trek leader’s cheer; a handful in their thirties and forties, shifting with quiet caution; and a few seniors like her, either moving with deliberate care or simply unable to hurry. 


“Ouch!” Geetha cried in reflex as a chirpy girl next to her stepped on her toe.


“OMG, I’m so sorry, aunty! Here, come stand with me in the front.” The girl tugged at her arm with an easy familiarity. 


Geetha groaned inwardly. If only I’d kept quiet. She forced a brittle smile. “It’s ok ma… no problem.”


“Alright, ladies, I hope you’re rested and ready,” continued the trek leader, smacking his palms to silence the last few whispers. “We’re heading up the cliff you see ahead. It’s not a difficult trail. I know every one of you can do it. At the summit, you’ll have a spectacular view and, for the brave, a plunge off the edge,” he added with a wink.


A ripple of excitement and a few nervous chuckles floated through the group.


“But before we start, a quick ice-breaker. I’m tossing this ball to someone at random. Introduce yourself and pass it to the next person. Easy!”


Geetha glanced around. She wasn't the only one avoiding the trek leader's gaze. It reminded her of the handful of children in her class who would stare hard at their shoes whenever she asked a question. As if looking down long enough would make you disappear.


“Aunty! Your turn.” Sunita, the girl beside her, thrust the ball into her hands.


Geetha froze. What was she? A teacher? A mother? A widow? None of those roles felt fully hers anymore.


“I’m Geetha,” she mumbled. “A senior citizen, as you can see. My daughter made me come here.”
             The moment the words left her mouth, she winced. Clearing her throat, she added “This is all new to me. But… I hope to enjoy it.” 


She lobbed the ball at the first person she spotted across the circle.


After the ice breaker, the group began its hike up the cliff. The trail was rocky and narrow in places, rising at a steady incline. Geetha, though reasonably fit, had to pause often to regain her breath. Slowly, the noisy chatter drifted ahead and she was left walking in its wake. She did not try to catch up, but settled into the silent rhythm of her steps. 


“Are you sure about this Geetha? You know, you can always take a sabbatical to bring up the baby. And I will help you through it. You know it, don’t you?”


“Yes Ram, I do. This is not a hasty decision. Whatever I do, I want to give it my all. And right now, it's motherhood with no distractions.”


Geetha smiled. Even now, she did not regret that decision. But did it not matter at all? She remembered the orphaned story buried in her bottom-most drawer, left midway, unsaid.


“Aunty! There you are, finally! Come quick. We need a selfie. Look at this insane view!” Sunita looped an arm around her, flashing a bright smile. 


“Can you take one in my phone too?”


When she saw the photo, she didn't recognize the woman in it. Her eyes lingered on the unsure smile, the softened shoulders, the escaping strands. She remembered the crisply starched saree, the tight bun and the straight back. 


Her thumb hovered over the delete icon. Then pressed. 


She quickly looked around. No one seemed to have noticed. 


The trail steepened near the top and Geetha had to push herself the last stretch. As she stepped onto the wide, rocky platform, the winds slammed into her, pushing her back a step. Steadying herself, she looked up at the horizon — mountains rising in layered browns all around her, their stern ridges cutting into the soft hush of the clouds. She moved closer to the edge and glanced down. The valley yawned below. The sheer drop made her stomach lurch. Only then she realized how high she’d climbed.


The bungee station stood nearer to the edge. A thick metal frame rose from the rock, holding coils of rope, safety harnesses, and a bright red pad where jumpers would stand. The apparatus looked both sturdy and terrifying; something built to test the limits of human foolishness.


Geetha drew in a sharp breath and joined the line, her feet drumming an uneven rhythm against the stone. Ahead of her, Sunita was already strapped in. She flashed her a quick thumbs-up before tipping forward into the void.


“Geetha, right? You have done very well to come up this far,” the bungee guide said, walking over to her. “Mind if I strap you first?”


He was in his forties and moved with an easy assurance. Geetha nodded, her throat dry.


He slipped the harness around her hips and thighs, tightening the buckles with careful, practiced movements. “Just keep your feet planted for now. I will do all the adjusting.”


Geetha tried to breathe, but her breaths came out thin.


“I am not sure I can do this,” she whispered.


The guide crouched, giving one of her straps a firm tug.


“Being unsure is good. Over-confident people make me nervous,” he chuckled.


Geetha gave a weak laugh.


“Look out there. Not down. Out.”
             She followed his gesture. The horizon stretched before her, the mountains stacked like gentle, unmoving waves.


“It is beautiful.”


“It is. And you climbed here on your own. You should give yourself some credit.”


“Yeah, I guess. I have not done anything alone in a long time,” she confessed. “Never realized when I stopped.”


The guide nodded without prying.


Her eyes stung. She blinked it away.


He lifted the final clip and secured it with a loud click.


“There. Safe as we can make you. How does it feel?”


“Terrifying.”


“That’s ok. It just means you care about what comes next.” He grinned at her.


She swallowed. Her heart hammered inside her chest, like something knocking to be let out.


“I will count for you. But you can tell me if you need a moment before you step up.”


“No,” she said quietly. 


“Then we go now. One step onto the pad,” he nodded with an approving smile.


Her foot shook as she lifted it and placed it on the red surface. Then the other. Suddenly, everything else felt distant except her own breathing and the mountains around her.


“Good. You are ready”.


She knew she was not. But she did not want to turn back. This time.


“Three,” he began.
             Her fingers curled.


“Two.”
             The cliff trembled below her.


“One.”


Geetha closed her eyes and leaned forward. For a heartbeat, she felt terrifyingly weightless. The air tore past her ears; her stomach pushed into her ribs. She could think of nothing but the drop, the helpless plunge. She screwed her eyes shut, every muscle locked, waiting for the worst.


Then came the jerk—sudden, sharp — almost rude. She gasped. The cord held. She was rising again. Only then did she dare to open her eyes.


The cliffs weren’t as menacing now. The river below glinted like a white ribbon. The wind lifted her hair as she floated upward.


When she dipped again, it no longer felt like falling.
             Her lips curved into a smile. Small at first. Then certain.


THE END