You’re Not a Human ~ a poem

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(In case it’s unreadable on picture, here’s the poem)

You’re Not a Human

Had you belonged to same race as me
Everything could have been just fine
No, you cannot be a man like me
Your color is very unlike mine

We used to enslave the kind of you
The memories are still so much fresh
Do we just readily accept you
And put all our differences to trash?

We look down on you, beings inferior
No matter what talents you possess
Nor your morals do mean anything
Nothing about you can deem us less

This divide we do not create now
It’s naturally in us all imbibed
For years and years so deep innately
The differentiation is inscribed

I agree you breathe and live like me
No human faculty you may lack
But surely you are not a human
For, the color of your skin is black…

~ Moiz Hawalchi

This satirical poem, with a theme of how difficult it is for one to accept & love another, is to honour all the innocent lives lost due to racism, communalism, hatred, fascism, bigotry and such innately deep found differences.

It’s strange that people can find so many reasons to hate one another but cannot suffice on humanity, love, equality and acceptance as reasons to live together as one kind..

***

The flower will blossom again… (poem)

I wrote this poetry few days back. With the theme of a lonely flower in a forest, it has a very deep underlying idea. Read the poem and then read on ahead my idea of writing this poem.
I hope you’ll like it.
Do let me know in the comments what you think!

Poem:

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Since I talked about a deeper idea this poem covers, here’s a bit of explanation of the poetry:

The poem talks about a flower which stands lonely amidst a thick forest.
There are various times described where it keeps on blooming and enduring the tough (sometimes gets company from a bee!).
The flower although lonely, is very much lively for it finds its own happiness from its nature of being joyful & warm.

Now, when a calamity strikes, when the forest around burns; miraculously, the fire spares the flower. But then with all the destruction around, it loses its beauty and droops.

The first few stanzas signify the importance of the flower keeping happy with itself; to brave through thick and thin and make the most of the lovely times.

Next, when calamity befalls on the entire forest, it becomes clear that even though mentioned to be alone, the flower still was a member of an ecosystem, a society. That no matter how alone it’d seem to it (since no other being of similar kind was with it, i.e. there was no other flower around), it was never alone. It had the jungle and it was a part of a larger picture. So even though it’s untouched by fire, the calamity still affects it.

In the concluding stanza, the same idea is conveyed that the jungle breathes as one.
And, even though it is destroyed, it still hopes for days when it will become as vibrant and lively as before..
That is when the flower will blossom again…

Question:
(this is the underlying idea)
Can you relate this theme to our lives?!!

Love and beyond… (a short read)

I was in search for a story for Valentine’s week for my article. But this time I needed something fresh. Not the same old lovey-dovey narrative.
One of my friends gave me the address of his uncle who, he said, lives mostly a secluded life. He said I wouldn’t regret it.
Frank, his uncle, had agreed after a lot of persuasion (by my friend) and finally appointed me time for an interview.
I was sitting on a couch in a two-bedroom house located in the suburban part of city with two coffee mugs on table and Frank, 72, sat on his chair right in front of me. His grey hair, upright stature and very serious look gave me feeling of a retired army person.
A woman, who looked like in her 60s-70s too, came out of one of the rooms looking lost.
“Where is Arthur?”
Frank told her he’s at school.
“Who are you?”, she questioned him.
“I live right next door, remember? I’m Frank. Let us put you in bed, you might be tired.”
Frank took her into the room, the lady still looked confused.
After a while, Frank came back and sat on his chair.
“Who was the lady?”, I asked.
“Well, she’s one of the person you’re here for, besides me.”
I was confused.
“Your wife, then?” I inquired.
“That wish was never fulfilled”, Frank said without any change in his expressions.
“Who’s Arthur?”
“Her youngest son. He’s gone abroad and he’s not young anymore.”
I might’ve had a perplexed look which Frank read and immediately began with the story…
“I met Martha in High School. We were the best of friends. We grew very close. By the end of college, we knew we’d marry one another. We spent most of our time together caring for one another, fighting, quarrelling on petty things, but most of all, in love.
Her parents were quite well to do and didn’t agree when they came to know about it. She was married off in a rich household. I was devastated and I knew she was too.
My family pressured me and I married too.
Lives went on. She bore three sons. She was more fond of the youngest, Arthur.
I had a good life too, unfortunately I didn’t have kids.
About 20 years later, I saw her again, she worked in an office just next to mine. Her husband had passed off two years before. Her hair had started greying.
I was living a long solitude life after my wife left me within five years of our marriage.
We became best of friends yet again! She talked about her life, how she managed the kids now, how she overcame difficult times all by herself. We had a lot of evening coffees together. Occasionally I’d stop by her house to have dinner. Her sons liked me. We had a great time together for the next two years but neither of us really hit off with any romantic thoughts. One evening, she suggested I should date someone and I joked saying I was getting old. She looked at me for long and then smiled, shaking her head. Perhaps, I didn’t figure it out then what she was trying to say.
Two years later she changed the city. She got a better job, her eldest son was in college. We still remained in touch. She occasionally called to check up on me and I called sometimes to know how she and the kids were doing.
I lost contact after a while.
About a year ago, a mutual friend called me up. She said Martha was in a nursing home. I went there. I was told she was diagnosed with dementia and was here for quite a while. Her sons all went abroad and had settled leaving her here, although Arthur’s cheques of her fees came every month.
She doesn’t remember much these days and often goes back to behaving as if in some past memory.
It’s been a year since I brought her home. She might not know me anymore but I plan to take care of her for as long as I live.”
Frank looked towards her room and then blankly looked on…

IT Life (The Interview – 1)

Feeling slightly nervous, but all prepped up for the interview, Rajesh set out early in the morning so that he could catch the early bus in order to avoid rush later on.

Rajesh had been desperately looking for a job change opportunity and this one came up out of nowhere. All his friends who had joined along with him had switched to other companies in search for better opportunities (opportunities refers to only money here!). As soon as they completed 2 years and the bond period with this organization (not that they wanted to serve 2 years. It was the bond!), they started switching. And how! Everyone Rajesh asked was attending some or other interviews, mostly on weekends but quite often on weekdays too.

Referred to him by his colleague in current organization, who had a friend in the company Rajesh was applying for, Rajesh didn’t feel like
missing the opportunity. He had a week’s time to prepare for the interview. ‘Prepare’
here doesn’t include clothes, gestures, body-language, etc. Rajesh had been to far too many interviews to not know these basics taught in Interview self-help books. These preparations came naturally to him by now and were secondary. The preparation here refers to rote learning of related as well as unrelated subjects for the job position. Rajesh was a Java developer. That’s it. He had only coded with basic Java language so far in his job. He didn’t know any front-end development or Database programming. But his preparations consisted from core Java learning to many other coding, front-end & database languages. It then, by the end of the week, stretched to Cloud concepts, Automation Testing, DevOps, and such hyped, ‘cannot-be-understood’ concepts.

How did he manage so much? Well, to start with, obviously being skilled in Java coding wasn’t enough for interview. So he started with its theory learning (cramming). Then, he moved on to other advanced languages and then onto other unrelated concepts. It was of course difficult to manage since the only time available to him apart from his 9 hour-job + 2 hour commute was mostly at night. But Rajesh was intensely intent on cracking this interview so he couldn’t care much about sleep this week.

Saturday morning, he saw only few students and some professionals (perhaps interview attendees like him) in the bus. He reached 5 mins late than the expected time and went up to the company’s gate. This company was in a building, having an entire floor dedicated to its workplace. There were several other companies too, operating on various floors in the building, in that, the building had a huge common campus & facilities.

Everywhere at the entrance, there were staff from respective organizations, shouting company names and giving directions. Rajesh found out the company he was attending for and took the crowded lift to his floor. His floor was filled with long queues and people moving about. At the desk, he got his name, current company, designation, etc. registered, submitted his CV, took the receipt and stood at the end of a long queue.

(to be continued…)

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***

 

 

Timeless Love (A short story, part 2)

Read Part 1 here >>> Timeless Love (A short story, part 1)

The Mishap

Harry had been sitting on the bench for too long now. She didn’t come. The dial was crossing 6:15 pm. Harry was certain she would come. There was no doubt about it. After about 5 minutes, his mobile rang. An unknown number. Could this be her? Harry picked up. After the call, in some next minutes, Harry was rushing to a hospital in a cab. The call was from his doctor friend who informed him about how a patient, caught in an accident, kept asking for him before going unconscious.

The police at once took notice of it and had contacted him for, the doctor attending her, Mr. John Blackwood, happened to be Harry’s friend.

“Call Harry. He is at the Park… West-end Park.”

“Who?”

“Harry McHal. Call him. He’s waiting for me.”

“The author?”

“Yes. Harry McHal. He’s at the Park. Call him. Call him quick. Someone call him.”

The doctor tried to ask her for more details and, assuming it was his friend she asked for, he had called Harry to enquire.

The accident happened at the Hampton Crossroad, where the cab she was in was hit by a Heavy-Carrier that took a wrong turn on the lane. The Heavy-Carrier had hit the back of the cab, rendering her severely injured, while the cab driver sustained a few injuries. The driver of the Carrier had fled.

Harry’s world had come crashing down. She, whom he was dying to see all these years, was finally here, caught in a terrible accident. The more the hours passed, the more tensed and worried he grew. She’ll be out of this soon. She will. She has to.

The doctor hadn’t said anything except that her case was critical, before the emergency operation. Doctors had operated on her in next 3 hours and put her under intensive care all night. Harry had waited all night outside her ward.

The doctor, Mr. Blackwood, went for an inspection early morning at 4:30 am and came out to tell Harry:

“She is conscious now, but still critical. There’re a lot of internal injuries. We’re doing everything that we can”, he assured. The tone of the doctor didn’t seem right.

“But, she’ll be alright?”

“Can’t say anything at the moment.”

“What?”

“We can only hold on to the treatment done to let it work. I won’t give you false hopes. Only time will tell.”

Harry’s heart suddenly weighed heavy with a shock on hearing this. What did he mean ‘only time will tell?’ He felt acute despair flash upon him. Somehow, he managed to speak,

“Can I see her?”

“She was conscious. I gave her pain relief. It’d be better to let her sleep.”

“I won’t take long. I just want to see her.”

The doctor reflected over the request.

“Please let me see her. Just a few minutes.”

After a moment of pause, the doctor agreed.

“Okay, I’ll allow you. But better be quick.”

The Reunion

Finally, after six long years the moment came, but amidst such a tragedy. How would he behold her lying critical upon a hospital bed? Harry felt himself ripped with the sorrow that had befallen him. He struggled to hold back his emotions, and did his best not to betray them.

It was raining outside. His heart was pounding. Entering the ward, he finally took a glance towards the bed. There she was, covered in a white sheet, bandaged head that had smears of blood, an oxygen supply attached to her. As he advanced towards it, Harry felt a calm spread in him.

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She turned her head slightly on his approach and their eyes met. Those were the same pretty eyes, the same beautiful face, now marred with injuries. She didn’t seem to have changed much.

She woke up in a while.

“Harry!” she managed an enthusiastic tone in a weak low voice.

Oh, how he remembered this voice! Harry felt a sudden surge of emotions, tremendous joy filled his heart.

He seated himself on a chair beside the bed.

“Finally…How much I’ve longed to see you! How are you?” she spoke with deep gasps of breath.

He smiled, “I’m good. Now that I’ve seen you, I am better”, he replied.

She smiled through the oxygen mask.

“It’s been centuries. I’ve waited to see you all these years. Where were you? Whe–” asked Harry impatiently.

“I know you will be angry with me. You have a right to. I’d let you know all about it. But believe me, I’ve never forgotten you all this while.”

“Neither have I, Daz.”

(That’s the name he called her with, years ago.)

She again smiled faintly.

“I read your book! Loved it!” she said. “Harry, I am happy to see you a successful man today, and handsome too!”

“Hey, I was handsome back then too!”

They both laughed.

“Now that I see you, I feel peaceful.”

Suddenly her breathing intensified.

“You should rest. I’d better call the doctor.”

“No. Stay. I want no one now that I’ve met you.”

“You are going to be fine. You will be absolutely fine. And, first thing I’m going to do is to take you on a ride through the city. Just like old times.”

Harry could make out blush upon her cheeks. How beautiful she looked. How piteous, her to be suffering.

In short gasps, she said, “Harry, you’ll find a diary… in a bag which was with me… until I was brought here… Do get it. You’ll know everything about me… about these past years,” her voice had weakened.

“I’ll hear it from you when you get well.”

Her breathing grew deeper again for a few seconds. Harry urged her to let him call the doctor now. She resisted.

“No. Just stay with me”, she said “I’m alright.” and managed a weak smile.

It had started to rain outside heavily. Thundering was heard.

They looked at each other in silence.

Few moments passed, she was calm now. Her breathing normal again and she finally spoke with some efforts:

“Come here Harry, give me a hug.”

Harry leaned forward, gently put his arms around her neck. Their cheeks next to each other. With great efforts, she wrapped her arms around his back into an embrace. Harry could feel her warmth.

She slightly rose up and levelled her face next to his ear.

“Harry………  I love you”, she said in almost a whisper, “I have always loved you.”

Harry felt a strange tingling in his sensations, overwhelmed with emotions.

“I love you too, sweetie. I love you so much”, said Harry.

Her hold on Harry tightened for a second. There was a loud thundering outside. And then, her arms loosened. She sunk back. Harry rose slightly, and saw her. Her eyes were closed and he could make out a calm smile from the mask.

“Daisy”, he called out, his voice croaked.

“Daisy”, he called out again, slightly louder. But her lifeless face didn’t move. Her arms fell over from his back…

Harry went numb for a moment. Tears trickled down his eyes. A sudden grief had gotten hold of him as if the world had come to an end.

In next few moments, Harry had ran for the doctor; the doctor took his time and checked for life in her, in vain. The machines behind the bed didn’t beep anymore. Harry just stood by her side, with a grief indescribable, for all that he could remember.

***

(Present Day)

It struck Harry that the cab had come to a halt. He’d reached the place. Getting out of the cab, he took out his umbrella, for it had started to rain heavily and held the bouquet in his hands firmly, as he managed to walk.

‘Daisy’, the tombstone was inscribed. He placed the bouquet upon the grave and stood in silence, winds bellowing and rains pouring on…

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***

[“I’ll not be away from you. I’ll be with you always, in your thoughts, your memories, in your heart. So, whenever you miss me, just remember me. For, I’ll always remember you…”]

***

Hope you enjoyed the story!

Let me know in the comments…

(C) All sketches used in the story Part 1 and Part 2 belong to the author.

Timeless Love (A short story – part 1)

It was the same day. Harry had put on the same blue tie upon the same suit. Taking the bouquet of roses in hand, he reached for the letter, and cast one last look over it before folding it up neatly and placing it in his shirt pocket.

As he set out in a cab, in solitude of his thoughts, he was flown into the memories of this same day, last year. He remembered it so well. Every detail of it…

(One Year Ago)

 

The Letter

Oh, what a day! The day that was anticipated since such a long time. Long time? No. It wasn’t just long time. It was as if centuries had passed. Oh what joy! Had his heart ever beaten so fast?

Harry received this letter, which instantly drifted him back in the past, in a time which he had remembered & cherished all these years. It was mixed emotions for him.

The letter came at noon but not with the post with which other letters came. It was handed to the maid by someone, a special delivery. Harry had bothered to go through it now at night, after he finally put himself to leisure after a long day. The moment Harry took it, he’d known who had written it. The handwriting hadn’t changed…

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She did remember him. After all these years. Hundreds of questions ran through Harry’s mind… Where has she been? What did she look like now? Was she still that same cheerful, happy girl with big innocent eyes, rosy smile and wavy hair? But these didn’t matter to him now. He was far too overjoyed by her letter. He’ll know all about it. Only a day to go… Tomorrow, he’ll be meeting her.

***

A Glimpse of the Past

After his parents’ death in a car accident, Harry had lost every reason to live. He received warmth of love from his aunt who had taken him in, but that couldn’t lessen his sorrow.

Finally, his life changed. And that happened after meeting this girl. They met in high-school. He still remembered the first time he saw her. At that time, he wouldn’t have known how this girl would change his life.

It was her first day in their last year. Her family had shifted in this city and she had taken admission here. After the teacher had introduced her to the class, she found the only vacant seat to sit, which was beside Harry. “Hi!” she had said and Harry had responded to her. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he had a proper conversation with his fellow classmates. But, there was something about her, a charm, that Harry couldn’t resist talking to her. As days passed, both got to know each other. It was for the first time Harry had made a friend, to say so. Both had gotten used to each other’s company, and eventually became best friends. They both spent time together. They studied together (due to which Harry’s grades improved in exams), they went to movies, they went on picnics… Those were the best times in his life that he had had with her.

How could he have ever forgotten her? Harry had never known the joy he felt with her. His life had changed completely. It filled with happiness.

She gave him hope. The hope that everything was going to be alright. A belief that he was far more capable than he thought himself of. What Harry was today, he never could have imagined to be. He used to be this miserable, dull, shunted fellow. He had had no aims, no life, no wish to carry on his useless existence. She came, an angel, filled him full of life and love. She made him realize his potential; she gave him a reason to live. With her, he could forget all his sorrows; and it was with her, he had felt that his life was worthy.

The moments of their parting were still fresh in his mind, as if it was yesterday. Before leaving for college, she had hugged him tight and said, “Don’t think I’ll be away from you. I’ll be with you always, in your memories, in your thoughts, in your heart. So, whenever you miss me, just remember me. For, I’ll always be remembering you…” and with a hope of meeting soon again, she left. But far more than words could have said, they both had understood what they meant to convey to each other.

Harry hadn’t seen her after that. They used to write letters then and it carried on for quite a while. Harry pursued his ambition of engineering while she, her dreams of becoming a doctor. Their colleges were in faraway cities and Harry could never go to meet her; neither could she, once they got into their college lives.

After some time, the letters stopped, from her… Harry wrote many letters even after they went unanswered, but finally had to give up. There was no apparent reason behind such an abrupt end. No such indication in her previous letters as well. She would never have stopped contacting him without saying anything. She would have let him known.

After college, Harry had searched for her. He went to her college to know of her whereabouts, and found that she had left college mid-way, almost about the time when his letters went unanswered, with no clear reason known to anyone. There was nothing Harry could do.

That was six years back. But her memories were still there as if she was never gone. His was a longing of years to see her again. His life was left with a void that never did fill.

As time passed, Harry’s life attained peaks and went on achieving new heights. He was successful today. Head of a team of engineers in a famous engineering firm. Also, recently he had realized his love of literature by writing a novel that was on a rise to topping the bestseller charts day by day. This book was special. Writing had been a passion for him since high-school, since she came in his life. She was passionate about literature. She used to give Harry books to read and also showed him poetries she composed. And, with her, he too developed an interest in literature. This novel was a story exactly about his own life, rather more about the times spent with her.

But if it wasn’t for her love, he’d never had transformed from what he used to be to what he was now. Oh yes, her love. This love is such a wonderful thing. It’s this love that even after all these years, Harry felt it undiminished, strengthening him in every phase of his life. Her love is what has always kept him going. Oh how immensely powerful her love is. She is as though always with him. Harry had realized that she didn’t give him some reason to live. She herself became the reason.

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***

The Park

Harry had read the letter a dozen of times by the evening. Was he dreaming? Could this all be true? He re-checked and reconfirmed, by reading the letter several more times, before going to bed.

The morning seemed to be endless, the clock seemed slower than usual. Harry went out to look for something that he could gift her on meeting, and came back with a Pierre Cardin pen, a CD of music album she used to like a lot in high-school, and had made a mental note to go by the florist’s on the route to the Park. That’s all he could think of in such a short time.

Then, he plunged into his cabinet where he’d preserved everything he had received from her. Books she had given, her letters, her gifts… He rummaged through it all, revisiting every single object, paper, photograph, every memory he had of her. Among all those memories, there was this blue tie which was the last gift he’d received from her. Harry pulled it out, straightened it, and put it with the set of clothes he’d wear to the Park.

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A blue coat over the white shirt that went well with his navy-blue trousers. Finally, it took 15 minutes to tie the tie, taking care of it’s precisely tied knot and its alignment with collar, to the details.

Harry set out exactly at 4:00 pm, went his way walking to the florist, bought a huge bouquet full of her favourites: roses, and then took a cab straight to Park. His watch showed 4:45 pm when he finally settled down upon a bench. The weather was cloudy, mildly cold. The birds chirped and the flowers everywhere swayed with a cool breeze. Harry’s heart beat faster with the ticking of his watch. He’d imagined hundreds of scenarios: how he’ll talk, what he’ll say…

It was almost 5:00 pm and Harry felt butterflies in his stomach. A cold wind had arose. The Park thrived with people. Everyone seemed full of life and energy. Flowers seemed to blossom as if in spring, the chirping of birds grew louder and the long await of years now finally seemed to be reaching the end…

***

Let me know in the comments if you liked the story so far… Part 2 coming soon!

Bigg Boss (Why I love this TV show)

[Following article is about an Indian TV show, Bigg Boss, Indian reality show based on UK’s Big Brother]

Finally, season 11 has come to an end. I’ve been a Bigg Boss fan since Season 1!

I love this show a lot and always await its next season. It’s always upsetting for me whenever the season ends because during the season, I’m so much involved into it that it becomes a part of life and it takes time coping up when it’s over.

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Bigg Boss in itself is a model of mini-world where people from different backgrounds, opinions, perceptions live together. We find a collusion of varied ideologies and the consequences then emerging out of it when two opinions collide, may it be for a bigger cause or for tiniest of a matter. It depicts the real world in a more shortened and compact form. The tasks form a basis of survival and apart from fans outside, the sustenance depends on how one passes each day either performing or interacting with others.

This is a true gist of the many emotions that a person possesses. Due to no connectivity with the world outside and living together with one another, there’re great highs and lows in the emotions and heightened spirits. The dynamics of relationships with one another change at a far more rapid pace than in real life.

All of this experience is never possible anywhere.

With the contestants we follow in the house, we get attached to their characters. Their journey of the house also forms our perceptions of the show and we even learn many things from this compact world. We feel a connection with the housemates and all the while the show is running, we feel we are a part of this journey too. Of course we interact with it and voice our opinion through our votes.

All the while when the show runs, I am so involved that all my days pass in thinking, discussing, arguing with other fans of the show about the developments in the house, how I love one contestant and how I despise another, how a relationship in the house will go, how a task ignites what kind of circumstances, how some contestant went wrong, how some contestant was correct and so much more. My life surely revolves around the show whenever it airs. I’ve discussions related to it with my family, friends and relatives, sometimes during dinner, sometimes during work-hours with colleagues, sometimes on a calm weekend! It becomes an inseparable part of our daily lives and it’s this beauty and essence of the show that brings me to being upset when a season finally ends. Then there’s a long and boring wait until the next season. For, no channel or show is of the kind as Bigg Boss is.

This season was unique. And although not sure of my favourite one at first, in the later part Vikas Gupta very easily became my one of the most favourite contestant of any season for his strategic game play and genuine personality. I became so much attached to his persona and also as a result more engrossed in this season than ever before.

I, my family and my friends religiously follow this show and it’s a very dear part of our lives. And for now, after 105 days of watching the show, we’ll all be awaiting its next season!

~ Moiz Hawalchi

HARRY POTTER, it has been 20 years!

Read and share this with all the Harry Potter fans. You’re guaranteed to remember your childhood!!!

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Words cannot ever suffice what it has meant growing up with Harry Potter for me and millions of fans around the world. Yet appealing everyone in a common way, it has meant differently for everyone. To the ones struggling in a depressing period, it has given them hope. To the ones lost in life, it has shown a path. To the troubled, it has been solace. To the common, it has been extra-ordinary. To the world literature, it has been a turning point.

I was about 11-12 years old and ‘Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone’ was already in theaters a year or two before. I was at my grandmother’s, in my school vacation when I watched the film for the first time. I was instantly drawn to it. There was something magical about it. I became a big fan of Harry Potter, the stars Daniel, Emma, Rupert, of J.K. Rowling and everything about Harry Potter. Then, I watched the film on T.V. again and again whenever they were on. Next came 2nd Part, then 3rd and so on. I used to watch it on D.V.Ds and then again whenever it was on T.V. Never missed any. With each movie I became a bigger and bigger fan of Harry Potter. I started collecting pictures, news-articles from newspapers, magazines, and Internet, shops that sold its goodies, books of or relating to Harry Potter and this has continued into this digital era. I’ve my computer, phones, laptop, book-shelves, cupboards all filled with Harry Potter stuff (The collection still continues! It is incredible).

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In school times, I came to be known as Harry Potter. I and my friends who were Harry Potter fans too, used to enact Harry Potter scenes and re-created them in school as if it was Hogwarts. We climbed the stairs quickly so that they didn’t change! Used to mock duels, and role-play the characters. I also formed an organization ‘Dumbledore’s Army’! I must admit, I was a bit late in reading books than watching the movies, i.e. by the time I finished the book of a particular installment, its corresponding movie would be out already and I would’ve watched it at the first instant. There was always an excitement for a new book or a movie, an interview of Harry Potter actor or an article related to it.

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The reason there’s such a life binding love towards the series is not because it’s about magic. It’s simply because it’s about life. Magic just forms a backdrop to the story. The main concept is of life that in common way relates to millions the world over, no matter what culture or background one belonged to. It has shown how powerful words can be and how greatly they can touch lives. It unifies everyone in a common Harry Potter community. It gives hope, it breathes human sentiments, it teaches one to empathize with a fellow being, it shows how important friendship is, it teaches the value of love, it gives a lot of messages and truths of life’s reality. It imbibes that no matter how desolate or destitute you are, there’s always a way. No matter how much evil exists, there’s always some good worth fighting for.

No doubt a million of hearts cried when the series turned its last page. It was, after all these years, difficult to believe that there would be an end to it. But as Rowling has said, Whether you come back by page or by the big screenHogwarts will always be there to welcome you home!

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I remain a big fan of J K Rowling, Dan, Emma, Rupert, its other cast. For me, Harry Potter is life and will ALWAYS stay with me, and with the millions of others, now and in generations to come….

While we may come from different places and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one.” — Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

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Also,  do watch this amazing video by Bloomsbury: https://twitter.com/search?src=typd&q=bloomsbury

Have your experiences to share? Talk about them in the comments!

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