“Jump”, he said.
I looked down at the frothing waves 140 feet under me that swirled and raged against the jagged cliffs on either side.
The weather that day mirrored my nerves, the chilly New Zealand air bit my skin and a cold drizzle mingled with the beads of sweat on my forehead.
“Jump”, he repeated, more insistent this time. “Just close your eyes and jump”.
I knew that if I hesitated any more, I would never be able to do it. I took one last glance at the narrow ledge on which I was standing and the panoramic view that stretched out in front of me.
Taking a deep breath of the cold winter wind, I stretched out my arms like the wings of a bird, bent my knees to leverage my jump , and with a sudden rush of adrenaline leaped as high and far as I could.
The free fall seemed to continue till eternity.
For the first time, my mind felt absolutely blank. In spite of the excitement, the nerves , the heartbeat that seemed to resonate through my entire body, I felt strangely relaxed. Those eight seconds, when I was falling headlong towards the waters that could swallow me instantly, at the speed of a stone released from a catapult, were the calmest eight seconds of my life.
This pull of gravity was suddenly halted by the sharp tug of the bungee cord on my legs.
The adventure wasn’t over though. The cord swung me wildly between the mountains on either side of Kawarau bridge. I was shrieking in exhilaration, as my body cut through the air, to and fro like a pendulum.
After my swing slowed down gently, two men from the staff came in a small raft, and lowered me into it with the help of a pole . “Wohooooo”, I laughed , “that was awesome, amazing , superb “. I could tell from their expressions that I was blabbering incomprehensibly , but they gave me an amused thumbs-up as they helped me out on the shore.