Everybody has these teenage ‘phases’ you know, where one thing or the other dominates your whole psyche (or whatever passes for it at that time) totally. At the age of 15, I was in my ‘logical’ phase. Having been an avid reader since the time I could string more than 4 words together, books pervaded my life.
I’d gone through (and been done with) the Hindi comics by 8-9, read all the fairy / folk tales I could lay my hands upon (A translated omnibus of English, Egyptian, Russian, Ukrainian and Irish ones) by the time I was 10, discovered and read Charles Dickens and other major classics (abridged, though) by 13, and therefore, at 14-15, I was going through anti-war sentiments generated by Hemingway, The Diary of Anne Frank, and translated versions of post-WW II era Russian literature. Not to mention trying to understand the Rhett Butler – Scarlett O’Hara dynamics in Gone With The Wind.
I was in the ‘realism’ phase.
Then one crisp white-cloud green-trees winter day in late 2005, sitting on the sun-warmed gray stone bench at the school garden in recess, a friend asked me if I had liked Harry Potter.
I actually smirked at her.
“I haven’t even read it. And neither do I wanna. How could all these people be so interested in that unreal magic stuff?? Come on, how could you be??” I asked another girl to back me up. She was (and still is) one of the most practical people I’ve ever met, and at that time, she shared my there-is-so-much-real-bad-stuff-in-the-world feelings, courtesy Anne Frank.
“I’m in love with Harry….” Ms. Practical sighed. I rolled my eyes at her.
“It’s kid stuff – reviews say flying cars and magic wands and such…” I scoffed.
(Gawd…I was snobbish about things back then ! 
)
“Just read it once ! come on, take it as a challenge that you can still read kid stuff.” She said.
I reluctantly took the copy of Goblet that she was handing me, and turned the first page in the next free period. Fell in love with Cedric somewhere along the way 
and didn’t stop till I’d gone through the book. The plot of what I had called kidstuff turned out to be amazing, the characters deep and complex, even the side ones…the settings totally believable, the narrative tight with no loose ends, the context and literary motifs and symbolism beautiful.
This memory of that day is still crystal-clear, Pensieve-fresh. THAT was my first ever lesson in not to be prejudiced about anything. And believe me, I’ve remembered it.
The rest, as always, is history. I read the fourth first and then went back to 1st through 6th. Better late than never. And like most of us, for me the books took the status of an epic.
The movies never did compare to the books and imagination, but then again, to see that magic brought alive on-screen has always been enchanting. (Interestingly, in both the concluding movies, my favorite sequences remain the ones which were actually NOT in the book — in 7 part 1 : the Harry and Hermione dance, for which they managed to find the most perfect song that there could be for the situation…and in 7 part 2 : the different-from-the-book but still beautiful cinematography and execution of the young Lily-Snape memory…the only bright, sunshiny moment in the dark, brooding movie.)
Nick Cave’s accompanying song to the fugitive friends’ fleeting moment of normalcy goes like
Hey little train! We are all jumping on The train that goes to the Kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun And the train ain’t even left the station Hey, little train! Wait for me! I once was blind but now I see Have you left a seat for me? Is that such a stretch of the imagination? Hey little train! We are all jumping on The train that goes to the Kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun It’s beyond my wildest expectation…
These lines, with their strong suggestion of the scarlet steam engine that ferried hopeful kids to a magical castle, were the actual point where my wistfulness began.
The very last installment has been out now, and the reason I’m writing this all these days later is that only after watching 7 part 2 for the second time, it has actually sunk into me that this is it. 
There’s going to be no more of the books, no more of that fantastic saga….no matter how many times the die-hard fans amongst us might re-live it over and over again.
It’s a deep nostalgia unlike any other. The characters in the story grew, and we grew alongwith them. They say that the beliefs and impressions of childhood go a long way in shaping us. Through the books, vicariously but still in a very tangible way, we levitated feathers (among other things 
), extracted thoughts, mixed the most amazing of potions, roamed secret passageways, fought trolls and giant spiders and dark lords, charmed objects to our will (My favorite being Hermione’s extended-storage beaded bag ! 
), sneaked around in the restricted sections of library…and at the end of the day there always was a warm, cozy, firelit, deep-red-and-gold common room full of squashy armchairs to relax and hang out with friends.
We learnt that ‘it is what you choose to be that counts’. We faced our fears and discovered our Patronuses — our strengths. We imbibed bravery, boldness, friendship and courage.
And even though the closure, especially on screen, was very dark and somber in its atmosphere and mood…permeated by the bête noire…it was a fitting end to a classic.
And so, here’s to a most beloved element of our adolescence…written in Everlasting Ink upon our hearts and minds —
For unveiling an exquisite new world and characters that we virtually became friends with…
For being a lesson for people like me to not have any prejudices…
For enabling us to say that we grew up with what would definitely be a classic for the coming centuries of children…
For giving whole new definitions to mundane words and everyday things…
For making all of us believe that at least a little bit of magic can exist in everything…it’s all upto how you perceive it.
After all, all of us are better for keeping the magic alive in our lives.
And therefore, We Solemnly Swear That We Are Up To No-Good !!
