Quench Your Wander Thirst with Fireballs Adventures
Do you love scaring yourself every day with something new? Do you loathe yourself for not coming out of comfort zone very often? If the answer is “yes”, then Fireballs Adventures is the right place for you. We have been organizing group adventure holidays, weekend getaways, hiking and trekking tours, mountaineering, and mountain biking for more than 5 years.
The twinkle from stars suspended in a Himalayan sky not too high above
our heads replaced neon on date nights from fairy lights that hang on electric wires.
The stars lit my eyes a little more, made his skin glow slightly more.
Today we sat across the sheen of a silica
stone, no pearl white table cloth in our booth for the night. Soft leather, red
couches gave way to the warm sand beneath us tonight. He brought me no red
roses, showed up instead with a bunch of forest-fire red wild lilies –
wildflowers that inspire to be without aspiring to become.
Today two wine glasses were missing between
us, yet I couldn’t have been more high. Was it on account of being picked up
from the mundane and placed right at the centre of the scene I had drawn on my
easel for years? And finding out that the scene was more magnificent than what
it had appeared from outside the easel?
Surreal blues, foggy greys, misty greens –
now all bathed in the navy blue of the dark and broken only by the glimmering Chandra Taal – the glacier lake whose
glory knew no bounds when torched by this full moon above us.
Today the “moon lake” made up the ambience
in which manmade fountains, low hanging light fixtures or pottery barn usually
take centre-stage. Cavernous lounge walls gave way to majestic mountains
entrapping him, me and the lake.
Inside the ripple-free black lake we found
blue dreams, white dreams, silver dreams and dreams of pure gold. Today there
was no DJ playing trance on a loop but the white snow, blue sky, silver
moonlight and golden mountain dust reflected in the Taal made him and I trippy.
Today I ordered no Lobster Mignon for dinner.
We shared the Trout which he had fished out of the Taal when this lake was reflecting the golden scorching sun, misty
green Spiti vegetation, and the cotton white and gold snow.
Embers from the stone Angithi over which his moonlit form meticulously barbequed our
dinner, were like glow worms in the dark valley. In the act of mesmerising,
they came second only to the angles of his figure bent over the barbeque grill.
He was still wearing the 10-year-old muddy trekking boots which I so loved.
Today I began my day with a dip in the
pristine mirror that was the moon lake and pretended to be a mermaid when the cold
gripping my body tried to bully me out to its warm sun-lit shore. The shore
lured me into a sunbath on the hypnotising green grass instead. Pretending was
not hard, with his gaze transfixed on me.
Today I ended my night with his warm cushy
chest fixed in the spot under my head where usually a pillow rests. The nook of
his body protected me from this harsh, freezing, chilly night breeze. It was an
added bonus to his heartbeat which fastens without fail whenever I place my
head on it.
With a hundred thousand more stars than are
my usual scenery on retiring every night, I slipped into dreamland with ease.