Kushal Haran

Mr. Nguyen
AP Lang
9/11/13

Drift
8:00 A.M. I began my Drive - a journey through the wild landscape of Towson
University in the bright morning. As I left the building my face burned and my skin browned.
The sweltering heat overwhelmed my fatigued body. The sun was my alarm clock, the brilliant
light illuminating the world for me as its blistering heat rays jolted me awake. After I fully
gained consciousness of my surroundings, I witnessed the vast landscape that encompassed me: a
hilly countryside decorated by small lush meadows and majestic trees which contrasted with the
tall, repetitive college buildings interspersed throughout the area. I began to drift like a petal of a
flower throughout the wilderness that encompassed me, flowing through the labyrinth that was
the campus. I passed the tall buildings and forest woods below the bridge while the aroma of
freshly cut grass captivated me. That refreshing scent cleared my mind and enabled me to float
like a cloud across the whimsical expanse. Short bursts of wind interrupted the sultry climate and
playfully brushed against me. That ludic wind enticed me to travel farther, deeper into the
alluring terrain.
In I went towards the middle of the jungle, more and more surrounded by lecture halls
and administrative building, until I came across an ancient bench that looked like it predated the
university. Nevertheless, it had been an hour since my voyage began and my legs felt strained

and began to pulsate telling me to rest. I slowly lowered my body into the weathered bench like a
old man. My back attempted to contour to the uncomfortable bench while protruding shards of
wood on the armrest stabbed my forearm. The shards ripped and peeled the skin off me creating
a stinging sensation on my arm.
However, I soon forgot about that for I was enraptured by the Shangri-La that lay before
me, a curvilinear grassland paved with snaking pathways that slithered to a circular meeting
center in the middle. The library sat across from the grassland with an elegant marble staircase
leading up to it. Around me were six lecture halls, all tall, brown giants guarding me from reality.
All I could hear were the high pitched chirps of a few birds in the distance and the occasional
burst of wind whispering as it whizzed by me. The taste of the crisp air filled my mouth and
reinvigorated me as I inhaled the wonderland; it was as revitalizing as water streaming down a
parched throat. The grassland, the library, the buildings, the hills, the sun, the wind, all of it
harmoniously sang in unison; and I was in the middle of the choir.
I basked in that blissful euphony as I looked down to see the shadows of the leaves of the
tree that was watching over me assemble in a familiar pattern. I was nostalgically transported to
a day in my childhood; I was sitting on a park bench in Paris just watching people walk by with a
similar tree hanging over me. I was brought back to that innocent comfort. I could taste that fresh
nutella crpe in the air and smell the sweet fragrance of the blooming lilies adjacent to me. That
reminiscent tranquility amalgamated with my current, heavenly serenity; it was the epitome of
nirvana. Lounging in that cathartic repose, I could have sat there for an eternity. However, soon
enough, I had to return to the boring and monotonous reality that I was all too used to. But not
without storing this Shangri-la as forever part of me, as a memory one that I will never forget.