And then I hear it before I see it —the roar of the approaching rapids. By the time I figure out the source of the roar, it’s too late. Terror immobilises me as I’m sloshed over by the frothy waters of Daniel’s Dip, the first of the series of imaginatively named rapids on the Rishikesh stretch of the Ganga. As I collapse inside the raft in a tangle of limbs, I’m grateful to be alive.

But Riju pushes me unceremoniously over the sides of the raft into the swirling waters below. The receding roar of the rapids I just crossed is drowned by shrieks of fright. My flailing arms miss their hold on the rings attached to the sides of the raft and I think this is the end.

But then, in a moment we’re afloat again. The water is incredibly chilly, making its way into the crevices in my helmet. I’m too stiff to let go. I cajole and finally persuade Riju to throw a rope to which I cling for dear life. After a while I realise that I’m not going to drown after all. The terror vanishes. By now even the body’s thermostat has adjusted itself to the surrounding temperature and I no longer shiver and tremble.

Soon we’re again on another placid stretch. The banks are dotted with beaches every few yards with neat rows of colourful tents. A few kayaks pass by and I tell Riju that I want to try one too. He seems to be in an indulgent mood. He stops a passing kayak, tells the occupant - apparently another river guide - to jump into the water and holds it for me with a flourish. Very confidently I slide my sizeable bulk into the narrow space and grin triumphantly. But before I can even strap myself in place, the kayak overturns and I find myself in the nether regions of Ganga mai’s belly. She rushes in to check my nose, ears, eyes, mouth. Gasping for breath, I flail my arms helplessly (the poor legs are packed so closely into the kayak). Riju’s demonic chuckle sounds ominously far away. I wiggle my legs out of the kayak somehow and bounce back to the surface.

Some distance away I have a brush with Ed, the villain of the river. As we float away from the raft, he stalks us from behind and drags me screaming. I’m vertical for a few seconds, and however much I try, I’m unable to extricate myself from his vice-like grip. I’m dizzy, as he swirls me round and round. This time Riju doesn’t laugh, but transforms himself into a knight in shining armour. He, and Harish from the other raft swim furiously towards me and drag me by the lapels of the lifejacket. In a few seconds, I’m back in the safety of the raft, thoroughly chastened by the experience.

A series of rapids come one after another like rapid fire - Sweet Sixteen, Crossfire, Return to Sender, Three Blind Mice, Roller Coaster, Golf Course, Double Trouble and even one called Black Money because it happens to be near a cottage built by an industrialist! After the first few, I get the hang of the drill on how to negotiate them. There are five of them which are Grade IV (expedition level) and the others, Grade III. I am patted on the back and told that I’ve been very brave and can now go on to expedition level on the Bhagirathi or Alaknanda run and then on to the Kali-Sharda, Beas and even Brahmaputra!

— Trans World Features