Six winding, heady kilometres from Manali lies Burua, HP's little-known fount of flying talent where six in 10 families have at least one 'commercial' paraglider. Thrill-seekers, mostly between 15 and 25, who don't fear 'martyrdom' in their line of work. For them, it isn't much fun sans the risk. But then, bravado takes its toll. It's been two years since Tej Singh (21) and his passenger plunged to death on the green slopes of Solang nullah. In '98, non-swimmer Chunni Lal, 24 and training to be a rafting guide, drowned in the Beas. Today, Tej's younger brother, Mirchand, is a 'para guide' and Lal's family wonders why he kept his career plans secret.
'Remember God', counsels a mountain graffito near the Snow Leopard rafting camp at Shivpuri, a half-hour drive from Rishikesh. 'Safety Saves', says another. Prophetic exhortations. Just step into any tour operator's den in Rishikesh's Kailash Gate area. These are mushrooming 'daytrippers', in the thrall of a frenzied money rush. Instinctively, you know they won't be pinned down by things like safety. "It's a free for all," says Riju Raj Singh of Camp Rapid Fire. From running overloaded, reconditioned rafts to carrying rafters without helmets or proper life jackets, they flout norms with impunity. Some, like M.S. Rana of Garhwal Adventure Mountain Services, go a stretch further: "Even if you don't know swimming, we'll make you a trained rafting guide... Provided the money flows like the Ganga."