Letter From The Ocean

     

Letter from the Ocean.

It was Blue all around before I was born. But something came up and a desire to see Red overwhelmed me. Deep inside the ocean I lived a mystery but something caught me and a desire to unsolve the mysteries took birth inside me. I wanted to fold the mysteries to unfold again. I desired Red and a Will to born seeded inside me. I left the ocean bed and rose above. I was standing in the ocean when a wave passed across me. It shook me and then it returned. I strode forth and saw at once the distant island that seems united with the horizon. My eyes glued to the vision and the Will kept me aside from the urge of returning back. It never occurs to me that I shouldn't take birth. It never appeared to me then that the fascination about Red will be the end of my Blue. It wouldn't be improper to put this blame on my whimsical nature. I strode forth silently and gave birth to myself in the island. I had unlearnt good amount of lessons but the lessons left their mark deep inside me. Perhaps that's why whenever I face the ocean they return there gaze that seems to ask me something. I did know the language of the ocean but I unlearnt that too. Somehow when at night I gaze at the horizon I felt home. It’s been quite some time since I was born and lately I'm having some blurry hallucinations about my Blue past. I've suffered quite much and I've implored a great deal to the ocean to bring me back home. It's too much to bear in the island I don't feel the Red soothing anymore. The mystery that I lived was my home. Deep under the ocean bed I must have someone who must be waiting for me. Perhaps a different mother or a different father or even a different set of questions I'd seek answers to and certainly there must be another me that awaits my being. Red is not good and so is this island. The state of the affairs here is such that the things that matter here eventually leaves and the thing that stays after, holds no meaning. Craving for the 'IF' overwhelms; it’s heavy such that it drowns you inside the ocean of Red that has darkened so much that it seems Black. On the other hand 'Red' in its actual sense means to float. Once you are drowned you are blackened and you are indifferent to the waves as you glide somewhere between the waves and the ocean bed. You become so black that it reeks. You'll not have any qualms about your position in the ocean whether you are settling your scores with the waves or you are having a good time in the black ocean bed; it’s the fall from the top to the bottom that destroys us. You don't know how to swim, you don't have infinite amount of oxygen inside your lungs and the bottom is mystery to you. You struggle to keep yourself from dying. You struggle and beg your lungs to be with you, it asks for air and salt water it gets.  The vindictive organ does what seem fit. You are still in the midway and you are lost. The mystery of the ocean bed is eventually solved by your body shreds partially eaten by mysterious creatures; your black soul moves up. You wake yourself up only to ask,

 'Where am I?'

     Among us some have this heroic ability to float and some holds infinite amount of air in their disposal that they reach the bottom and solve the mystery; but they never comes up afterwards. They probably feel at home down there. They master the Red in order to see Blue in it. I'm not a hero and I have no such feat at my disposal to call myself any of that. ‘I just want to go home’- that was all that I had been thinking about until I found something that grew out of the flower plant that I had planted sometimes back. It resembled fruit. I plucked it and saw that it was coiled and held inside its heart, a balled up parchment.
      I received the letter from the ocean- it isn't dated. I remember everything now. He invited me perhaps some long time ago as the foxed parchment suggested. There was a map inside it with a single vertical line that ran along the length of the paper; right beside the line was written -

“SURRENDER YOURSELF TO ME”