Thought Crimes

It’s decidedly passé to say that you’re a Harry Potter fan. Everyone reads the book, but is almost ashamed to admit it in public. It’s like something you have to do, you’re made to do but would rather not do. It’s like riding a Scooty. Fun, but you don’t want to be seen on it. To me though, Harry Potter books have meant a lot more than just books. I’ve always shared a sort of kinship with Harry and somehow feel as though I’m reading about myself. When the history books are written, I guess I’ll be called a kid of the Potter age.

Most people, after having seen the first movie, said that I looked a lot like Harry. Or Daniel Radcliffe to be precise. However, I knew it way before that. I knew it when I first read the Philosopher’s Stone. It was like reading about myself as Harry was described. It started on my friend’s birthday, way back in 2000. Everyone was busy playing Carom. I’ve never been a sportsman. A great sports enthusiast, yes. An expert on the intricacies of most spots, yes. A sportsman, no with a capital N. The statement can be exemplified by the following incident. A schoolmate of mine, seeing Lefty in school way after dismissal asked me what in the name of Aishwarya Rai I was doing there. I looked her directly in the eye and said without the slightest hesitation, “I had to stay back for sports practice.” An incredulous look was followed by a “You, sports!” and a demand to know exactly which sport I was pretending to excel in. I murmured “Chess” and was met with an “I should have known” before conversation drifted on to other things. But this should give you a general idea of why I chose not to play carom and instead grabbed a copy of ‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone’ and began my journey into Harry’s world.

As soon as Harry began to be described, I felt I was back in the 1920’s and was reading aloud my passport. Short, skinny, really black untidy hair that grew really fast and refused to lie still, knobby knees, round spects (my glasses were round then)- the whole package. Even our birthdays were almost the same. Just the difference of a digit. Harry was shown to be quite fast later, and despite my unflattering achievements in the world of sports, I was pretty speedy in my heydays. I even almost won a race once, but that’s another story. However, the most amazing part regarding my resemblance to Harry came a couple of months later. I’d always known that I looked just like my Father. I had grown up on considerable doses of visiting relatives from near and far who would take one look at me and exclaim, “Why, he looks just like his Dad!” So one day, I casually asked my Mother who’s eyes mine resembled. Unaware of tremendous importance of this question, Mamma calmly said, “Both you and your sis have exactly my eyes.” A guy who looked just like his father but had his mother’s eyes. Need I say any more? Sure they’ll be skeptics who’ll dismiss all this as co-incidence and bring to light other details like green eyes and the et cetras. Frankly my dears, I don’t give a damn!

I’ve totally grown up with Harry Potter. And literally too. I used to be really short. Just 4’10’’ on my 14th birthday but have become taller in a very short period of time. I took my Boards in 2003, the year in which the highly forgettable Order of the Phoenix was published and Harry took his O.W.L.’s the wizarding equivalent. We had our first crushes at around the same time (To tell you the truth, I don’t honestly remember when I had my first crush, but I can always give myself the benefit of the doubt). And so I’m grateful to the lady born in Chipping Somerton to have made this journey possible. I’m grateful to the train she traveled in and the cows she was staring at when Harry just ‘walked into her mind’.

Harry Potter has been synonymous with one phase of my life- my teenage. I had just turned 13 when I started reading the books. And the last book is set to be released to the world on 21st July 2007, the day I turn 20 (Twenty, sob!). The earlier mentioned skeptics will undoubtedly dismiss this again as co-incidence. I may be a die-hard optimist, but I will refuse to see this as anything else but Rowling’s ultimate gift to one of the greatest Harry Potters in real life.

PS- Please Ms. Rowling, don’t kill me!