My Blue

Blue means everything to me. Any shade, any variation of blue will find a place in my heart. I've found out that things I love, I associate with the color blue. Whenever I meet people, I unconsciously classify them into colors. The people I acknowledge to be blue are usually the ones that I think are interesting and different from the others.

My eternal, undying love for all the hues of blue is probably one of the major reasons why I love swimming or even just looking at the water. I try my best to be impartial, but there is one shade of blue that holds a special place in my heart. The cold, piercing, electrifying blue that excites me is the one I love the most. I associate that shade of blue with everything I love endlessly, like music and technology and math. I can't begin to explain how much that color means to me, but to start, here's a descriptive text dedicated to my favorite shade of blue. It might seem more like a description of water, but believe me when I say that every time I look at this shade of blue, I feel everything that I have described below. Every time I go swimming, I feel this way. Remember, the water and the color blue are basically synonymous here. Forgive me if it feels like I’m drifting from the main topic at any point.

The freezing air bit at every millimeter of my body that was not covered by the flexible waterproof fabric of my swimsuit. Meters of pure blueness stared up at me, still and as unyielding as stone. My thoughts were conflicted. I wanted to feel the electrocuting chill of the water, to be lost in its seemingly eternal depth, yet I hesitated. I knew that if I entered, my soul would yearn to stay even as my mind and body fought for survival. My soul overrode the logic of my mind and the protests of my shivering body as I dived into the azure water.

Suddenly, it was everywhere. The unadulterated aquamarine surrounded me, encasing me in a shell of liquid sapphire and my body curled up into fetal position immediately in reaction to the frostiness of the water. My critical brain struggled to think, to form comprehensible thought, but the unsullied blue of the water bombarded my senses, desisting to let me contemplate anything but the indisputable richness of its color. I let it take over with a feeling of relief, reassured that down here, no thoughts would plague me. My mind would be blissfully empty, even if it was just for a second. Tendrils of ultramarine water crawled around me, releasing knots of tension in my contracted body that I didn't even know existed. The bitter chlorine penetrated my mouth, leaving a nasty taste on my tongue, but I hardly noticed. I was lost, and I was home, and I was nowhere all at the same time. Nothing existed but this fluid tanzanite bubble that sheltered me from noise, people, emotions, and the burden of my own thoughts. I no longer remained an inhabitant of the physical world. My spirit had left behind the cumbersome weight of its prison and finally was light, free to take on any avatar of its choice.

The water and its color were everything all at once. Its thickness offered protection, and its transparency whispered promises of independence; Its harshness pricked at my conscience, and its beauty soothed my pain; its endlessness frightened me, and the ultimatum of its presence gave me a sense of security; Its depths threatened eternal damnation in hell, while the clear blue stretch above me symbolized hope of an easy ascent to heaven; The fluidity of its waves, the way they never seemed to travel in the same pattern twice indicated my ever-changing future if I chose to remain, and its rigidity promised some sort of structure to my life; Gentle caresses smothered me in love, while its constant pressure drowned me in its anger; The push of its waves boosted my confidence, even as the gentle tugging of its depth reminded me to remain humble; Its presence encouraged my kindness, my willingness to see good in everything, but its constant poking reprimanded me to be a bit less trusting of people.

It seemed to take pride in its honesty and simplicity, but secretive winks shared suggested to me a web of complex white lies too meaningful for me to comprehend. The grin of its ripples indicated its happiness at just being alive, but behind the light, frivolous smiles there seemed to lie a deep sadness. Sadness that I immediately wanted to banish to a place where it couldn't hurt the water and its color anymore. I wanted to offer the color blue what it never failed to offer me - a place that would always, always be ready to provide whatever it needed. A place where it could forget all its burdens and experience pure happiness. I did not want to share this with anyone, this bond, this emotion, that me and the water enjoyed. It was something for only the both of us to experience.

Then, the pain began. Fire in my chest and throat. Oxygen leaking out of me and chlorine taking its place. Pain that could very well kill me. I scrambled for the surface, scared of being permanently scarred. My head broke through the surface of the water and I breathed, the pain subsiding slowly. In that moment, all I could feel was rage, absolute hatred for the water and the color that had so cruelly tried to hurt me after I had given it nothing but love and acceptance. I cursed at it and splashed around, trying to hurt it as much as it had hurt me. A deep sense of betrayal compelled me to exit the swimming pool and I stood outside, hating that it had reduced me into this pathetic, shivering creature.

I vowed to never return, to never let it have the pleasure of teasing me so again. It looked at me, amused at my futile attempts to try and resist, enjoying my anger. I took my towel and wrapped it around myself, ready to leave, telling myself that this time, I would leave for sure. The surface of the water glinted smugly, knowing that I would be back for more soon enough. The sun shined a little brighter, always the sly supporter of the water, and its rays lit up the inside of the place I had just called home.

That’s it. I was gone all over again. The pain, the betrayal, the hatred, everything evaporated immediately. Everything was instantaneously forgiven. All that remained was the heartbreakingly beautiful blue. I smiled reluctantly, conceding to its irresistible beauty. It grinned back, a feeling of triumph lighting its surface. My towel came off and I was back in only my swimming suit, my body poised to dive back into the water, my soul knowing that no matter how many times I tried to convince myself otherwise, I would eventually end up here in this very position every single time, not being able to say no. Meters of pure blueness stared up at me, understanding that I had realized the fact that my soul was entirely in its control, and the blue smiled innocently. I hit it, splashing water everywhere, and then dived in, resigning myself to my annoying, but beautiful fate.

That’s all I’ve got for now. I hope whoever is reading this, liked it! If anybody thinks I should write more about blue, tell me. I’ve got so much to say about it I don’t think this one post is enough.

Villian

So this is the opening of a story I wrote for my English class. Please do tell me how it is. I want to continue the story, posting bits occasionally, but only if you think it sounds interesting. If it doesn't please tell me and I won't do it.


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        The clock chimed the hour and he knew that he was in the wrong century.  He landed with a thud on the cold floor of the abandoned Church. He painfully brought himself to his knees, wincing and looking half dead. The effort seemed to be too much for him, as his eyes rolled up in his head and he exclaimed, “Oh, shoot!” before collapsing in a heap, unconscious.
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I toyed with my food, vigorously nodding to whatever my father said. He was rambling on and on and on about some unfortunate nameless person who had died at the hands of The Dictator. Ugh, he was starting to sound so monotonous. My twin sister didn’t even seem to be paying attention, her daft little brain preoccupied in some useless thought that brought a frown to her face. I smiled internally. It was the perfect opportunity for some harmless fun. I snapped my fingers lightly, and my father’s hair caught on fire.

         My father yelped in pain, drawing my sister’s attention. Before she could move to his side and put the fire out, I was already there. I put on my most innocent and worried face as I got rid of the fire. “How could you do this to our own father, Valkyrie?” I demanded of my sister. She looked at me wide – eyed and confused. Then realization dawned on her and her face contorted into a mask of anger. “Shut up, hag. Don’t frame me for what you did! Father, I heard Rosalind snap her fingers right before your hair lit up.” Ah, damn it. She wasn’t as oblivious as I thought she was. My father looked at me suspiciously.

It was time for Plan B. My face crunched up and tears began rolling down my face. “I..I..didn’t do it. I..I..swear. Why….why…would I? She probably did it because your words reminded her of her jealousy towards me because she isn’t powerful enough to be the one killing The Dictator.” I said, gasping for breath for emphasis. My father looked at me with complete love and trust in his eyes and I knew I had won him over. “Valkyrie Andreyah, how dare you misuse your magic to harm someone else and then blame it on your faultless sister?” my father thundered. I sniffled pitifully, looking believably hurt and shocked that anyone would ever dream of convicting me. Then, for a final stamp of authenticity, I ran out of the house, sobbing uncontrollably.

I stopped crying the second I was out of earshot, reconsidering my actions. Sigh, I regretted putting out the fire. I should have just lit him up like a burning star and watched the light drain out of him, leaving only ashes. But then again, that would just be a waste of my magic on worthless scum like him. My feet carried me towards the old haunted Church, a place I used to vent my anger. Which powerless animal would I hunt and incapacitate today? A squirrel? A nightingale? A deer? I walked inside and whistled softly at the sight before me. A boy about a year older than me lay unconscious on the ground, a gift from the Gods themselves for me to amuse myself with. It seemed like my torture methods would have to be more advanced today.

Oooh, how I would enjoy seeing his muscular frame squirm under the tendrils of my magic, as I scarred his lovely face with my knives............
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That's all. I hope you like it!

Masinagudi

          Imagine my excitement when I realized my three year old favorite cousin, who I barely see more than two days a year, was finally coming to India for a whole two months! And then imagine my disappointment when my parents informed me that he would only bring light into my life for a week. Sigh.

          However, my cousin was not the one whose arrival I looked forward to the most. I had an inexplicable longing to see my marvellous uncle - father to my cousin and younger brother to my mother - as it had been even longer since I had spent a reasonably long amount of time with him due to his and his family's residing in Luxembourg. Therefore, we planned a trip to Masinagudi, a town in the middle of the jungle.

          Masinagudi, which is in Tamil Nadu, is the most calming, relaxing place I have ever been to. At first, I must admit, I was reluctant to go, as the alternative destinations we had considered seemed far more intriguing, but I was not foolish enough to miss an excellent opportunity to explore a new place. I was lured in by promises of living in a tree house and trekking.

          First, we travelled to Mysore in the care of my father's driving expertise, leaving at around 7:00 am and arriving at 8:00 pm, to meet up with my grandparents, uncle, aunt, and cousin. I spent a day reminiscing over fond memories and making new ones and on Monday, December 26th departed on our car trip to Masinagudi. My excitement to explore the tree house we would be spending our nights in was great, although my family advised me to not keep my hopes up too high, for, after all, this was India and we doubted anyone was entirely sure of what a tree house was.


          My hopes were not in vain, as the tree house really was something to behold. It was entirely made of wood, yet was still unfathomably strong and sturdy. I fact, it was luxurious. My family and my uncle's family lived in a double tree house, which meant that it had a large outdoor aerial platform to meet on with two doors leading to two rooms that we occupied. Ah, what rich wood and what splendid sense of style!

           We crashed the minute we stepped inside, only awaking later to head downstairs and explore the forest resort. A homely reception cum dining area greeted us with its soothing ambience and a lovely bookcase beckoned me to lose myself in its eternal pleasure. The food was not particularly spectacular, but it was quite passable. The games section was nothing unique, but somehow playing there was the most fun I had throughout the entire trip. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I got to see a whole new side to my grandparents.

           After a long and tiring day, we returned to our tree house and sat for a while, pondering the one inescapable, insurmountable question that boggles our minds every single time we go for a trip - Where would everyone sleep? The adults have it easy, as their sleeping arrangements are always taken into consideration when booking a place to stay, and children can fit in anywhere, but we teens must make the most of whatever leftover space is present after the adults and children settle. Usually the only habitable place is the floor, if you don't count the bathroom.

           My parents offered to let me sleep with them, but my teenage sense of independence shuddered at the thought. I offered to sleep on a mattress on the ground, but my parents refused to let me, as they insisted that it was too cold. So, there I was, at 12:00 in the night, tossing and turning because it was far too hot under the thick blanket, between my parents. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I crept out of bed and slept on the mattress. It was a bad decision. The nights in Masinagudi are no less cold than the nights in Ladakh. So, the next hour I spent freezing my toes off, trying to cover myself with my hands as much as I could due to the lack of an extra blanket. I eventually made my way back to the bed and finally slept.

           The next day, we woke up early to trek up Neelgiri Hill. My mother and grandparents went up in a jeep while we trudged along. It was really fun, until we got to the foot of the hill. Then, the catastrophes started happening. I had been feeling for a while that something had been poking me, and when I put my hands in my pocket and dumped out the contents I found a cactus branch. By this time, my hands were already infested with thorns and I spent the rest of my trek pulling them out.

            At the top of the hill, a breathtaking view was available, but my eyes were more interested in the boulders that covered the other side of the hill. They beckoned me to climb on them and I willingly agreed. I climbed nearly halfway down the hill with my grandparents screaming at me to come back up, scared that I would fall. As I sat on a ledge, my legs dangling dangerously off the edge, I was filled with a sense of belonging and peace. I wanted to come back someday with plenty of books to read, write in and draw in to my heart's content. Unfortunately, that dream would have to wait, as it was time for the photo shoot that is compulsory for every trip.

            When we came back to the resort, we immediately had breakfast and made our way to the indoor games area. I ran back to the tree house for a second to get something, and when I came back I saw that we were preparing to take an unplanned trip to Ooty. We got into the car and were on our way. The high temperatures in the supposedly chilly hill station of Ooty disappointed me and the only highlights were our paddle boat rides and the horse riding. Finding a restaurant to have lunch in was an ordeal and we ate heartily after we found it because we were horribly hungry.

            Eating a little bit too much had its side effects. My sister threw up all over the backseat of our car. This triggered my aunt, who has motion sickness and had been holding it in, as she vomited not much later, this time outside the car. My mother tried cleaning the car to the best of her abilities, but the stench was unbearable for the rest of the ride. Upon reaching Masinagudi again, we simply had dinner, relaxed in front of the bonfire, and slept.

            The next morning we were up early again, preparing for our departure back to Mysore. It  saddened me to leave the tranquility of the forest and once again run headlong into the race that is city life. I vowed to myself to construct a wonderful tree house like these tree houses when I grew older. On the way back we stopped to see a small dam and played in the river's water.

            This trip to Masinagudi was probably the best, not because the place was exotic or the luxuries were great, but because of the wonderful family members I went with. They turned what would otherwise be a dull trip, into an adventure that I am not likely to forget. I thank them heartily for it.