Stories From Long Ago - Part IV (TOW We're Going Next Year)

"Tell me a story, it's been so long since you told me a story..."

"Well, ok, I suppose you want to hear a story from when I was little?"

"Yeah...!"

"Ok..."

*****************

Miracles happened every day. Magic was real. There were magical places, far away. Every night I went to sleep listening to stories about them, the magical people who lived there, and the songs that they sang.

Super Mario fought his way through a world filled with gnomes and magic mushrooms, only to discover that the princess was in another castle. But he dug underground, scampered up vines into the sky, hitching rides on passing clouds, finally reaching the Eighth World. Magic was real, and we wanted to grow up in a world where magic mushrooms jumped out of exploding bricks, and made us bigger and older.

Ooty was way up in the hills, and it was so cold that your breath fogged, and you could pretend like you were smoking. It was so high up that you could see the fields far below, like a jigsaw puzzle, and clouds would drift under your feet. Like they did in Super Mario. I couldn't wait to go to Ooty and step onto a cloud as it was passing by. We were going next year. We would go to Ooty, and from there down south to Kanyakumari, where three oceans came together.

December was cold, and we would wake up early during the holidays, and sit on the porch watching the dew-drops glinting off the Morning Glory that blanketed the rusty gate. We would breathe out into the misty air, and it would be like this at Ooty, when we would take that trip we used to talk about. Except that in Ooty, it was so cold that you had to wear 2 sweaters.

The room heater came out of the store room during winter every year. It glowed in the dark through the night as we snuggled under the downy quilt. It was really cold. And just imagine, Ooty would be colder. Next year, we would all go there. And to Kanyakumari, where you could see three oceans, at the same time. And I told anyone who would listen. We were going next year.

It was easy to believe that the world was magical. Every night I went to sleep listening to stories about magical places. Every night I dreamt about what I would do when I got there. Because, we were going next year.

*****************

"And did you go, next year?"

"Yeah we did, once. In 1993."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"We could go to Ooty again, you know."

"And Kanyakumari too?"

"Uh huh? And we could try walking on clouds?"

"We can't anymore. They stopped letting people on in '94."

"But we can still see the 3 oceans though."

"Yeah, they're still there."

"We'll go next year."

"Yeah. Next year."