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| Inches Away From a Free Fall |
We were 22 on the bus from Dehradun to Dhaula that morning, apart from the local guides and the driver.
We pass the Indian Military Academy with the cadets in full uniform, the stomp of shoes and dark beige resplendent colors at a grand parade. The remnants of small-town Dehradun is swiftly left behind.
But the journey really began when the road became precarious and we steadily gained height. A river roared way down below us. Trees, always a balm in vision. The mountains appeared, looming, not gigantic, but green, forested and beautiful. Anytime I looked to the left, the tires were inches away from a free fall.
The journey began when the danger and uncertainty became apparent.
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