I never noticed how sharp, almost pixielike, his ears are, and how there’s this delicate angle formed by his hairline just behind his ears. And how small his forehead is and howI shouldn’t care anymore.
Rudra opens his mouth to ask what’s up. Priti continues staring at me helplessly, but I stand, dust off my shorts, and resume climbing on my own.
23
This Could Very Well Turn into a Live Manifestation ofManjummel Boys
Prabalmachi, Sunday
I avoid Priti and Rudra for the rest of the ascent. I don’t give either of them a chance to talk to me because I have my AirPods in and am blasting music at a volume that’s probably going to induce irreversible damage to my ears.
It helps that the ascent is so petrifying. While there are stairs, which I wrongly presumed would be better than unstable rocks, they’re way worse because they are so narrow. I have to stick to the rocky wall, back vertical and pressed entirely to it, inching up every step.
There are a few sharp turns, and my heart leaps to my mouth when my shoes slide on the ground, making gravel tumble off the edge. One fall and I’ll crash-land straight onto rocks that will not just spike me like barbecue but break every single bone in my body into tiny, tiny pieces.
I don’t want todiehere. I’d become an example for parents to quote to warn their children not to lie to them, ever; not to run after boys, ever; and not to go on night treks, ever. I can almost imagine the headline:
Indian American Teen from Maine Goes on Prabalmachi Trek Without Telling Her Parents and Falls to Her Death
While the others pause intermittently to take photos and selfies, making quirky faces and poses, I don’t dare include myself in any of them until I’m assured I have a tight hold on something so I won’t fall. I stay at least a foot away from everyone else because I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen those posts where a bunch of people went to some waterfall or something and one of them accidentally tripped, taking everyonedown with them.
Surprisingly, I’m the one who is at the very front of the group this time, so I’m able to avoid looking at both Priti and Rudra.
The morning sun is beating down on us when we reach the top, and I pause at the ledge, looking out over the whole view. It’s so, so beautiful. And quite literally breathtaking, because it took a draining hike to get here.
This isn’t the end of it, though, as Jalaj warned us. There’s still a vertical wall—and when I say vertical, I mean it is perpendicular to the ground. The last of the college boys is completing his climb, helped up by three locals who lounge at various places along the wall in their chappals. A few boys who don’t look a year over ten scurry around us, giggling at the weary looks on our faces.
I hide my face, hoping it’ll take some of the burn away from the embarrassment. Jalaj gathers us around, pointing to the wall. “That wall is very tricky. There’s no harness, but there’s one rope, and you’llneed a lot of muscle strength to pull yourself up using just your arms and legs. Those three men will help you at all points, so you won’t fall, but I’d strongly recommend backing out if you don’t feel a hundred percent confident.”
“Is this trek ever going to end?” Digha wails, flopping to the ground. She’s got the kind of pretty face that make her sunburned cheeks look like they’ve been patted with rouge. “I’m not going.”
“Me neither,” Charu says, sitting next to her. “I did it last time, so I’ve been to the mandir before.” She takes her huge thermos out and guzzles water from it.
“You’ve been carrying that this whole time?” Varun says. “No wonder you’re tired, Chubbs. You could knock someone out with that bottle.”
Priti uses her hanky to wipe the sweat from the back of her neck. The sun has made her even more brown. I glance down at my own arm, which looks browner than ever, but I don’t mind it. When I was a kid, for the longest time, I avoided staying out in the sun for too long even after applying sunscreen because I got so conscious of tanning, but now I don’t care. The sun feels surprisingly good, warming the chill from the wind drying the sweat on my skin.
Jalaj looks around at us again. “Anyone else?”
I wait for the Krishnas in my brain to tell me to raise my hand and back out now—but I’m surprised to be met with radio silence instead. And I find that Iwantto do this. I came this far, and I want to see it through to the very end.
I shake my head, soaking up the sunlight, nerves riding a cresting wave. It’s true, what all those fitness freaks keep going on about. The toughest part of exercise isstarting. But once you do, once you push above and beyond your limit—that’s when it starts feeling good.
“Who’s going first, then?” Jalaj asks.
Varun sits next to Digha, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her cheek. They’re so disgustingly cute. I want what they have. “I’m going to stay with Digha for a bit,” he announces.
Rudra raises his hand. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll go after him,” I say. Priti snaps her head toward me in surprise, but I ignore her, amping up the volume of the music again.
Rudra walks to the wall and rolls the sleeves of his T-shirt up even farther until they’re bunched around his biceps. He stretches his arms out in front of him, his bones popping. Then he grasps the rope with both hands and begins climbing.
He’s like a monkey, quick and sure-footed. The three guides direct him in Hindi on where to keep his hands and feet, boosting him whenever he needs it. The wall is about thirty feet tall, and he’s at the top in minutes, pulled up at the end by Padam.
I walk to the wall, surveying its height, finding my frame tiny in comparison to its intimidating span. I take off my AirPods, shoving them into the case and jamming it into my pocket.
I can do this, I convince myself, feeling everyone watching me, and take the rope. Priti, who filmed Rudra climbing, starts recording for me as well, and I am determined to not fuck up on camera. The first few feet are easy because I keep my grip on the rope tight, not letting go unless I have to reach for grooves above me. The men guide me patiently.
