I am the ever restless blue, my stillness invokes danger. Comprehend my beauty, scorn me, I cannot care. Cup a piece of me in your hand and watch as it escapes.

I begin with an imitation, my middle is where drinks are poured, and I end where the alphabet begins. Say it altogether, and the mishmash disappears into a furry living thing. What am I?

Incredible land of intricate imprints, a variety of voices and vibrant vistas, where history hums and heritage holds the heart in harmony. Bordered by bands of burnt sky and bountiful botany, dotted with the wheel of law.

In thy hand, fate lines, Fortunes hidden, yet revealed, Fronds in gentle breeze.

A carnivorous plant, a liquid pouring vessel, are some of the things I can be. But one of the nine, standing in the middle, is the most cheered version of me.