Why Harry Potter will always be so close to me.

We were a group of friends, teenage girls, blatantly unaware of low waist pants (a raging fashion statement at that time, around 2004) and sporting super unruly, bushy eyebrows happily. Harry Potter was a religion for us. We would spend hours discussing about intricate details of the plot.

I was introduced to the series quite late and had finished the first three books in a haze. I remember, it was the last day of school before a month long summer break and my best friend had bought the 4th book in the H.P. franchise, The goblet of fire. I remember being so full of joy, feeling the heaviness in my backpack, as I walked back home from school.

That summer , my afternoons were spent lazily, reading and re-reading the book. I was worried for Harry when his name turned up in the goblet, excited about his budding romance with Cho-chang and scared when he had to face you-know-who in the end. I teared up a little when Cedric Diggory was mercilessly killed. Maybe I grew up a little that summer.

I was dying to read the next part but alas, none of my friends had it, my parents won’t buy me the book because it was plain expensive for us, and our school library only stocked goosebumps and sweet Valley high books (I hated the latter, I remember them being nothing but full of pure smoochfest)

Luckily, by the year-end, I was visiting Kolkatta and found a beautiful used-book store, which was selling Order of the phoenix for half the price. I finally had my hands on it and finished it in record time. I remember it being called the worst book of the series, but I had enjoyed every character, all the twists and turns introduced in it. I very much adored Sirius’s character development in the book and was miserable when he was so cruelly snatched from us. It was the first Harry Potter book I owned (although second – hand) and it will always be special to me.

Watching the movies was like giving faces and voices to my imagination. The gingery red of the Weasley family’s hair, the majestic dragons, chocolate frogs which looked so edible and Draco Malfoy‘s sneering face, all of the details brought to life. I remember finding Tom Falton extremely attractive.

Maybe JK Rowling isn’t the greatest author in the world, in literary terms. But boy, did she create a magical world for us nerds!

Maybe, if I had read the series at an older age, it wouldn’t have affected me to such an extent. But, as a teenager, Harry Potter was everything we wanted in our life. Those were simpler times, when life bereft of smart phones, social media and fast Internet.

Road trips with friends: a ceremony of life, no matter how chaotic.

We plan for trips every month, and then only one or two trips actually materialise out of the plans. Why? Because we are silly, inexperienced, wide eyed adults still getting used to the adulting game (for example, I just used adulting, which isn’t even a word)

Now, usually, our plans are born out of drunken birthday parties, when all of us are feeling a little bit impulsive and crazy. We don’t really factor in the reality of such trips, the moderately high travelling expenses, the even higher hotel charges, and the fact that we have full time jobs and stubborn bosses.

So such trips never really happen. All of us know it deep within our heart, even when we are at the peak of wanderlust.

But sometimes, the idea behind a trip just coincides with long weekends and the beginning of the month, when we aren’t as cash-strapped as we are by the month end.

When it happens, it’s wonderful. We can’t wait for the week to get over and for the weekend to arrive. Our group chats are only about one thing, the upcoming trip. Hasty hotel bookings, whether to fly, travel via the train or take a road trip, so many decisions to make!

If it’s a beach vacation, we stock up with SPFs, shorts and tank tops, while a visit to the hill stations during the monsoons require water proof jackets and shoes.

When on a shoe-string budget, we take a road trip in our trusted old car, fighting for a turn on the front seat, taking too many pee breaks, munching on cheetos throughout the road, discovering a tiny shop in the middle of nowhere which serves excellent tea and homemade cakes, getting lost in the middle of the night on an unfamiliar road, without a person or car in sight (believe me guys, those 45 minutes started with lame jokes about urban legends on women in white, but ended with an uncomfortable silence).

I have been on a number of trips by now, but road trips take the cake when it comes to fond memories and bittersweet nostalgia.

Ceremony

That awkward call I received at midnight.

Calls after 12 have always made my heart skip. The last time I received a call from an unknown number after 12, I was already in bed. Groggily, i picked it up, and was surprised to hear one of my relatives’ voice over the phone, someone with whom I didn’t really chat a lot on phone, let alone a late-night call. This only meant one thing.

After the phone call, I sat silently and processed all the information I had heard. My father had been hospitalised urgently, due to an unexpected attack. My mother and brother were beside him. Instead of panicking, strangely I started thinking about how my father was as a young man, when I was very little myself.

My father had his own passions, some fulfilled , some unfulfilled. He enjoyed trekking and had saved up some money for joining the local mountaineering club, which he couldn’t ultimately join, because he had to use up the money in his mother’s treatment. He loved western music, he loved everything about the soviets , Russia and was a huge fan of princess Diana (i had sported a princess Diana haircut as a toddler, till my early teenage).

All I kept on thinking about the entire time is how fragile time makes us eventually, both physically as well as mentally.

Awkward

A band with the music of laughter, the music for soul.

I was on my routine playlist on YouTube, listening to the queen of gloompop, Lana del Rey, when a song popped out in my recommended list out of nowhere. Its thumbnail was that of a solo girl, in a sleeveless red blouse and the video was titled ‘Lauren‘ by Men I trust. The uploader’s name was quirky so i had to click on it. The initial seconds of the video was just background noise, showing rows of trees with fast forward effect.

I immediately reckoned that it was one of those amateur indie songs, but before i could finish my train of thought, the song was seven seconds in, and the actual song started. It was a wonderful, wonderful bassline, like honey to the ears, perfectly punctuated by a strumming guitar. Soon a soothing female vocal began, beautifully blending in with the very prominent bass.

The video accompanying the song was simply a mind-soother. No props or expensive set, no spray tans,zoomed shots of cleavage, or twerking, simply a beautiful girl in a red romper riding her bike (it wasn’t a blouse, i was wrong initially). The entire video is a continuity of her riding solo through the woods.

After listening to the song twice in a row, i started going through all the other songs by Men I Trust, one after another. This band has songs which truely take you to another dimension when you listen to them with your headphones on. For a more sensual feel, combine their songs with a fairy-light lit room and maybe a glass of wine.

Most of their songs have a strong and smooth bassline combined with whimsical vocals and a killer video with aesthetics on point.

Do check them out guys!

Laughter

Observe a struggler’s life from within.

It was quarter to four p.m. Roy was supposed to reach his maternal aunt’s place before four. The train which he had boarded was filled to its core, swarms of people, leaning over each other, sitting on the floor. The crowd was baffling to him. He had specifically chosen this train as it usually ran quite empty. But as luck would have it, the train arrived an hour late at his station and was congested by sweaty frustrated travelers.

Roy despised visiting his aunt. If it was in his hands, he would have never seen her face in this lifetime. But he was forced to knock at her door repeatedly, as right now, as a struggling artist, his only source of income were the odd jobs his aunt made him do, in return of a handful of cash. But his aunt made sure she gave him the money along with a dash of humiliation and contempt.

“You know something Roy, You are just like your dad” she would say , “No ambition, no drive, always in your own little imaginary world”. In such situations, the warm bundle of cash acted as the coolant for Roy’s mind. It would make him somewhat immune to his aunt’s jibes.

By five thirty p.m., the sun had set and darkness had almost descended on the horizon. Roy’s station had arrived.He pushed through the crowd in the carriage, hopped out of the train and started walking at a high pace. He was already late for the babysitting gig. He had immediately agreed when his aunt mentioned that he would need to look after her two sons, while she would be away attending one of her phony kitty parties. But Roy was already late by half an hour, so he knew he wouldn’t get the exact amount promised by his aunt in return.

As Roy had crossed the platform and was out of the station, the homes had lit up, children hustling with their homework, wives fussing over dinner and men catching up the evening news on television.

Roy had broken out into a cold sweat, as he walked as fast as humanely possible. For a second, he thought of hailing a cab, but his almost empty wallet stopped him from doing so. He couldn’t lose patience. It was his decision to enter the murky world of art, which rewarded few lucky talents with a lavish life and the rest, a struggle for lifetime. He kept walking.

He had a long evening ahead of him after all.

Via Observe

Why one death was more painful to process in Avengers: Infinity Wars

We all know there would be major character sacrifices in the latest Avengers movie. After all, the hype for this movie was built up right from 2008, and finally after 10 years, THE movie is finally here.

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!

We all know the handful of superheroes who went away with Thanos’ fatal finger click are mostly going to be back in the marvel universe, as most of them (spidey, strange and black panther) have major upcoming movies in the same universe. So i didn’t shed any tears for them. (Although my heart did cry a bit when Peter parker , while turning into ashes in tony’s arms, pleaded with him “i dont want to go, Mr Stark”, it just reminded me of how young and vulnerable he was. )

The only death which was very abrupt to me was Loki’s death.( Oh no ! Not loki!), that too right at the beginning of the movie. It seemed pretty permanent too, after Thanos made it clear that Loki won’t be ressurected this time.

I always had a soft corner for Loki, the mischievous underdog. He was entertaining & unpredictable. The character development throughout the years for Loki had been great, with Tom Hiddleston, the internet’s sweetheart, portraying the character to perfection. I had read a fan theory long time back that Loki might be killed off in this movie, but didn’t really think marvel would actually go with it.

Will miss you, the god of mischief!

Via Abrupt

The genie is out of the bottle now.

A pen-stand made out of an used coke can, decorated with sea shells hand picked from your last visit at the beach and messily painted over with leftover water colors, the ones you impulsively bought after realizing your “artistic” potential one fine day.

I never really ended up using it. It was one of those possessions which one never uses, instead one safeguards it. It was safe in the deepest crevices of my cupboard, lying undisturbed and keeping your memory alive , along with other mementos from my past.

This was your gift to me, your parting gift and I lost it today. I felt that I let go of the last connection I had with you. I failed to hold on to what we had & the genie is out of the bottle now, forever.

via Daily Prompt: Genie

Why Spring isn’t as romantic as it is sounds.

I have always failed to perceive the fascination surrounding the season Spring. Poets have dedicated poems on their love for this season since time immortal. ‘Lines Written in Early Spring‘ by William Wordsworth, ‘Spring‘ by William Blake are a few to name.
I personally can’t wait for the season to get over.

All I can remember of spring throughout my entire trivial lifetime is how easy it is to contract viral infections during this time of the year. Spring is the season when your throat starts itching without any reason and bam, you are sitting in your home, with a horrible throat infection on a Saturday evening.

Another reason, why Spring has to be my least favorite season, is the fact that the weather isn’t predictable at all. You start out in the morning wearing a sleeveless summer dress because it’s so sunny and humid outside and by late afternoon, you are regretting not wearing your full sleeved tee.

Springs tends to be harsh on your skin as well. Cracked heels, chapped lips and rough scaly skin are your constant companion. No matter how much you are hydrating through out the day, you are always thirsty.

Also, how can we forget about the pesky insects that the lovely weather of spring endows upon us. I remember locking myself in my room one evening because the living room was full of greyish moths, the inhabitants of my nightmares, having their own spring fling.

I miss you, winter. Come back soon.