Up!

Soar and glide through the still morning air in a hot air balloon, and sweep your gaze around hills, forests, rivulets and more. On the ground, dance with tribals and savour luxe living in tents. Andhra’s Araku Valley has all shades of heaven.

- Sushmita Srivastav

We are good to go! Up, up!” Izzati’s words in her unique Malaysian accent caught my ears. And then, as though on cue, with a sudden jerk, my body was lifted, my eyes closed on instinct and I clutched the safety rope firmly, trying to retain my balance. Butterflies did a dramatic dance in my stomach as a cold gust lashed my face, while a sudden swish of heat from the cylinder overhead provided contrasting yet utterly welcome warmth.

Finally, I opened my eyes. I was flying. The world, the earth, was below me, the people on the ground, waving in excitement, looked small and distant. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. This was not a dream—and yet it felt surreal.

It was my first ever ride in a hot air balloon. I shifted my gaze from the ground below to the heavens above. The sky was a vast blue bowl tinged with grey—hinting at coming showers. Wondrously, the colours of the spectrum spiralled in numerous rows with a blazing yellow in between. And amid this kaleidoscopic whirl was my very own rainbow in the form of the pretty, giant balloon I was flying in.

Below, the vista of the Araku Valley was patterned with forested hillsides, patches of farmland and little grasslands that appeared like a colossal chess board. Instead of black and white, here were all possible shades of yellow, green and brown. And sprinkled about were huts and scads of tall willows, with glimpses of streams and fields upon fields of yellow flowers that lit up this rolling landscape of the Eastern Ghats.