Tag Archives: Harry Potter

Wallpaper courtesy: WallpaperCave.com. 
Text: You get the idea!

I’ll be in Hufflepuff, thank you very much!

If you were in Hogwarts, which house would you be in?

I have been asked this question since 8th grade, when I first laid my hands on a Harry Potter book. Back then, it seemed like a stupid question. Gryffindor was my window to the world of Hogwarts, it was where all the action happened. Why would anybody choose any other house?

Also, I display a general abhorrence for such leading, pointed questions – Who is your favourite cricketer? Which is your favourite movie? Why the fuck do you want to know, man? And what will you do with this data? And why should I put myself through the ordeal of scanning through all my favourite films to reach an answer – only to be judged by you in the end? Adava Kedavra!!

However, like Lupin in his teaching days, I have toned myself down with age. I understand that humans come with varying levels of intelligence, and it’s not their fault that there’s MSG in Maggi noodles. As we were stubbing out some herb today, my friend asked me the same question after all these years. I did what I do when people ask me this question – I pouted, looked into the distance and nodded wisely.

This was a serious question, and needed serious introspection. But what logical peripheries are we operating within? What timelines are we looking at? Are we talking about present day Hogwarts or during the time of the books? To answer such a question, we first need to set the rules.

I gave it much consideration, and decided I would not want to be in Hogwarts in the present day. What fun would Hogwarts be without Snape and Dumbledore? And McGonagall as Headmistress? Never liked her too much!

So I first went about setting the rules. I first began reading the epics when I was 13, two years older to Neville Longbottom & Co.. So I would have to be in the same era, two years senior to the infamous batch, and present in Hogwarts while the events mentioned in the book happen around me.

In such circumstances, I would choose to be in Hupplepuff, thank you very much! Kindly find my reasons stated below!

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Original wallpaper source: http://hdpicturez.com. Text: Yours Truly

Original wallpaper source: http://hdpicturez.com. Text: Yours Truly

When asked the crucial question, most hipsters reply with ‘Slytherin’. In their heads, this is a wildly imaginative answer, much like their tattoos and cruiser motorcycles. Diffindo!!

On the outside, Slytherin might seem like an adventurous, mysterious side to be in. But can you imagine spending your days and nights amidst those horrible green corridors? And would you want to stay in a house where 11 year olds propagate ideas of bigotry? I am a mixed breed in real life, so it’s quite obvious that I’d be called the ‘M’ word in Slytherin corridors. Living in Slytherin would be like living in India with its caste system, and honestly, who wants to go through that?

Of course, some of you might say that there is more to the house than their cunning nature. That they have produced wizards like Severus and Salazar, that the house signifies resourcefulness, and ambition.

But you have to understand that I’m thinking like a 13 year old here. I do not crave the Mirror of Erised, or the Elder Wand. My motives are driven by da punani!

So no thank you, Slytherin. You’re too slimy for my taste.

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Wallpaper from: wallpapersafari.com. Text: Me, in collaboration with Sorting Hat

Wallpaper from: wallpapersafari.com. Text: Me, in collaboration with Sorting Hat

I have always found Ravenclaws to be too overbearing, and this might be due to a particular ex-girlfriend of mine. She always knew my passwords, and went so far as revealing the climax of Book no. 6 after reading it herself. While I dished out a string of Crutacius curses under my breath, I have forgiven her now!

She was the first person I met from Ravenclaw, and the image has stuck, for better or worse. I find Ravenclaw to be a wannabe Gryffindor, constantly going on about wit, wisdom, intelligence and creativity. It could also be because Cho Chang, the first Ravenclaw I met, was the blandest character in the books.

I was never a fan of Ravenclaw girls – they were too snooty! (Please don’t judge me. This was my thinking as a 13 year old, an age where you don’t arrive at decisions by referring to the latest edition of Malayala Manorama!).  I imagine the Ravenclaw common room to be full of (wannabe) Hermiones, strutting about in their robes, memorising books from cover to cover.

Thanks but no thanks, Ravena. I won’t be choosing any of your house mates. As Molly Weasley puts it so succinctly, ‘Not your daughters, you bitch!’

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Wallpaper Source: TheLadyAvatar - DeviantArt.  Text: Moi

Wallpaper Source: TheLadyAvatar – DeviantArt.
Text: Moi

Much like in Hollywood films where aliens always attack the US of A, Gryffindor is the house where it all happens. This is the house where Harry Insufferable Potter decides to set off on adventures that would seem risky to Peter Pettigrew on absynthe. Where everybody agrees with Harry when he decides it’s perfectly alright for a 12 year old to take on the most powerful dark lord the world has ever seen.

Can you imagine how unsettling it must be to hang out in the Gryffindor common room? You’re finishing up your assignments, and suddenly realise a weird man’s face in the fireplace. Or you’re sleeping (because your parents didn’t take you in for holidays) when suddenly a Death Eater decides to have breakfast with you! Duels, plans, conspiracies – the Gryffindor Common Room knows no chill.

If I were in Gryffindor, I’d have punched Harry right in his smug face, challenged Ron to a duel of ‘Whose wand is newer?’, and proposed to Hermione at least twice in a year. I would have whooped Harry’s punk ass, and later paid the price, as the guy is Dumbledore’s pet!

Too much drama, too much risk! As a 13 year old, I do not wish to be brawny and brainy; I want da punaani!

 

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Wallpaper courtesy: WallpaperCave.com.  Text: You get the idea!

Wallpaper courtesy: WallpaperCave.com.
Text: You get the idea!

Hufflepuff is the most chill house there is in the magical world, and even Alastor Moody wouldn’t disagree with me. While Hufflepuff gets the least screen time, even JK Rowling (herself a Gryffindor), agrees that Hufflepuff is the best house there is!

Hufflepuff has no celebrities, no heroes – even the most famous Hufflepuffs are the Harsha Bhogles of the magical worlds – Pomona Sprout and Silvanus Kettleburn. Also, Hufflepuffs are dignified and hard working. Take Cedric Diggory, for example – the guy drove girls wild for five years, then represented Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament, died, and came back to play Edward in a mind-numbing series for the rest of the decade.

Hufflepuffs are all-round nice people – no fuss, no starry airs. They are kids acting like kids, not like teenage pop stars throwing tantrums all the time. While the excitement in Gryffindor and Slytherin might seem attractive in the beginning, would you really want to go through the nerve-wrecking experience every single day? I would much prefer the Hufflepuff Common Room, where students choose to blow away their worries. For what’s a little herb when the Dark Lord’s reign is nigh! How much difference will a few blots of acid make, when there are Death Eaters hanging out in the corridors?

Also, Hufflepuff women are my idea of ideal women. Kind, patient, intelligent, and good with rolling joints. The kind who experiment with potions and positions, ogres and orgies. Since I’m no great looker, my game is more of intelligence and wit, and I’d fit into Hufflepuff like a brick in Diagon Alley.

Also remember, I am two years senior to Harry Potter, and given below is an accurate description of my life at Hogwarts:

my years in hogwarts

So I’ll remain at Hufflepuff, thank you very much!

You can have your dragons and phoenixes; I’m happy with my slugs and shrubs. I would like to make the best of my seven years in this place, and stay as far away from the limelight as possible.

You can call me dull, you can mock me, and our Quidditch team is probably shit. But I’ll gladly finish my years in Hufflepuff, get a clerical job in the Ministry of Magic, and enjoy some peace of mind there!

Professor Trelawney tells me the asshole with the scar is coming there in a few years!  

harry-potter-series

On Reading the final Harry Potter Book

It’s lying right there.

The person who bought the book has finished reading it. She had mixed, but mostly positive reviews of the book.

It’s lying there, and I could pick it up and finish it once and for all.  The entire series, as declared by Ms. Rowling herself, is done and dusted after this. There will be no more speculation, no more additions. No The Return of Harry Potter, or Harry Potter Strikes Back. The entire universe will now be nailed and put up for history to discover, observe, and critique. There will be no more additions, alterations, or explanations.

For those who grew up in the 90s, it was a decade of memories but little else. The 70s had rock music, gaanja, and the hippie universe. Our parents in the 80s experienced the first middle-class revolution that followed a path that would be laid out for decades later –  ‘Study, get job, settle’.

In the 90s, there were a number of external factors at play. The liberalisation and the impact it was having on our lives in whatever ways that it was. The nature of the country changing quickly, adapting to changes while adhering to morals from a different time.
Even though ScoopWhoop and its brethren would have you believe that a lot of interesting stuff was happening, it really wasn’t. Everything around us in the public view was rather ordinary.

Politics was a weird game of Musical Chairs (with the Prime Minister changing 7 times in 10 years!),  sports held no great rewards either. Pakistan was beating India consistently, and the only time one saw hockey sticks was when the villain’s henchmen would bring them along for fights. That Mithun, Govinda and Jackie Shroff were among the top stars must tell you the quality of films. So there wasn’t a lot that was good. The good stuff was passed on, or given to us, or handed down, or spoken about.

We had a lot of ‘new’. But not a lot of ‘great’.

If the generation that grew up in the 90s could further be divided into two halves, I’d belong in the second half. The first five years in the 90s flew by like a blur, there’s not much I remember from the time. But the latter half of the 90s is when I first discovered my own consciousness. There was a lot of new, but not a lot of great.

Which is why when you ask someone who grew up around the Harry Potter books what the books mean, it is hard to describe.

If you asked me too, for example, it’d be hard. I wasn’t all that young when I read the first book. I must have been in 9th standard, and came across a junior reading the books. Like a surprising number of people I know, I started the series with the 3rd book. The next few months were spent in running after the rest of the books.

The books themselves, like the Golden Snitch, played with Seekers like us. I’d find someone reading the book in a corridor, request him to give it to me; only to have the book disappear and appear with somebody else. The book was read on the sly since my school encouraged reading of only one kind –  the kind that took you closer to God.

Which meant that reading the books was a way to slip into a hidden world of my own. At the risk of sounding rather preposterous and judgmental, I’d humbly like to state that the Harry Potter series is probably the last great fictional book series that will see a global craze among children again. I’d gladly be proven wrong, but I doubt it.

The Harry Potter books came out just before the boom of the Internet and mobile technology, and with Pokemon Go and Pick-a-Chu and all that shit, I doubt books will ever enjoy the sort of reception that this series did.

In a way, I have never been able to outgrow the Harry Potter books. All the books I’ve written (but haven’t been published –  Rowling has made literary failure magical too!) are basically a rehash of the Harry Potter trajectory. Strip them all of their settings, the characters, and the facades, and they’re all journeys into magical lands.

I have tried rereading the books a lot of times. I have begun with Book 3, and sometimes with Book 1. There have been times when I directly jumped to the Quidditch World Cup in Book 4 – but it was never the same.

If you ask people who grew up reading Harry Potter what they loved about the series, very few would say it was the actual story. Most old-timers like myself would be fudgy about the stories. It wasn’t the stories.

It was the world.

Harry Potter was what we did before we discovered drugs. Before the magical powers of Marijuana and LSD were bestowed upon us, we all got high on Harry Potter. We took little potions, and then large portions. And we taught ourselves to enjoy the high. We stayed up at nights, or lied to our parents, and joined friends, and sat down, and got high.

Every time I tried to reread the books, there was something missing. I was undergoing a classic case of ‘chasing the dragon’, and it has been proven futile, always a shadow of the first trip –  the robes and the jewelry intact, but no flesh and bones underneath.

When I finished reading the 7th book, I spent a lot of time thinking about it. Thinking of how I was going to miss these guys, miss their universe. I remember a gutting sadness, the kind that sank into the pit of my stomach when summer holidays came to an end. Or when I was called to the Principal’s Office.

Years later, I still knocked on the doors of Diagon Alley when I needed help. When I ran out of ideas, or I got bogged down by the weight of what I was writing. Whenever I felt trapped inside the comparatively insipid world I had created, I hopped on to Diagon Alley for a break. But I was only a visitor. My membership had long run out, as I knew the course of events that would take place in that universe.

It was one of those things you live with –  a little sadness that has become a part of your life. Like losing a tooth, a pet that has passed away, or realising you blew away the most beautiful relationship of your life.

I had come to terms with the fact that the Harry Potter trip was done. I could go back once in a while, but had to return quickly.

Until there began news of a new book.

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Of course it wasn’t the same.

Firstly, JK Rowling wasn’t writing it herself. Like going to Bangkok with your parents, a great place is not the same without the right kind of people.
There were also the mixed reviews that the book received.

Back when JK Rowling released the original books, there weren’t so much reviews of the books, just levels of appreciation from everybody in the universe. I don’t remember a single friend/acquaintance/relative saying, ‘Yaar, this book was just about OK, yaar. Theek-thaak’.

Probably because it was a given that the books were brilliant. Probably because nobody really cared how good the book really was. They were on all their own trips, waiting to go further, to the next level.

But with this book, there are reviews. People speak about plot-holes, and conflicting character expansions. It is not really the 8th book in the series in the real sense, some of them say. And I know that.

But what the heck! It IS a Harry Potter book. The guide might not be the same, but it is the universe she created.

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The book is lying right here on the table.

I keep staring at it, almost as if I expect it to rise up, and do something.

I think the book knows I’m going to read it, after all. A final trip to the universe; to my first drug.

A final ride on a magical train, and then like Rowling herself said, there’ll be no more.

I plan to roll a joint now. And begin reading the book. And when it is done and dusted, I will get along with life.

Growing old, looking at past writings, dying. That sort of thing.

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