Looking down the slope, I could see the tiny figures of the people who’d opted for the short flight. Their parachutes were spread out behind them like saris drying out on a dhobi ghat . Their pilots were connecting the rigging lines to the tandem harnesses they’d use for paragliding. My family was somewhere down there but at that distance I couldn’t distinguish them from the ant-like figures milling around. I’d opted for the medium flight that could extend anywhere from seven to ten minutes. This required taking off from a higher altitude. A sturdy, shaggy hill pony had taken me up most of the way. Despite the smelly animal’s sure-footed way over the narrow mountain trail, I’d been apprehensive of falling off; especially when it balked midway up. The guide had encouraged me to whack its sides with my legs and that seemed to work. I had no wish to share the fate of the late Superman actor Christopher Reeve, who ended up a quadriplegic after a fall from a horse. Luckily, th...