My punctual alarm rang at 7 o’clock, and for the first time in eighteen years, I didn’t shut it off right away. I had been waiting restlessly for this dark night to end and the beautiful morning to make its grand entrance. The feel of the golden, warm sun, the whistle of the breeze, the sweet cooing of the birds and the smell of morning dew, all made me wonder how foolish had I been to waste 6570 precious mornings sleeping! (Yes, I actually made an effort to calculate that.) It was a perfect day to go for rafting.
I have always admired water and its dual nature; not only can it kill your thirst, but you also. The milky white foam, colorful creatures, various sized pebbles and broken tree branches, all seemed subservient to Master River; they had to go where the river took them. I wondered if we too were servants, not just of God. With mixed feelings in mind, I stepped in to the raft. I could feel the cold water gushing under my feet. The raft was trembling at first, may be of fear, I thought. Fear of being guided to a waterfall by Master River, since it had disobeyed him by letting humans come on board.
Gradually, the raft overcame its fear in my father’s expert hands and drifted smoothly, while we enjoyed nature. The river had its own grace. The waves looked peaceful, yet the flow looked dangerous. Dipping my hand in the freezing-cold water, I asked myself: If any one of us falls, will we ever touch the base or keep going deeper and deeper…Hey wait a minute, that is why we are wearing a life jacket right! Soon after, our stomachs gave us the grumbling signal. Plain mayonnaise sandwiches smelled like chicken biryani for some unknown reason, and soda was all we needed to complete our meal.
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