The boy who lived: As I remember him

A long story.

An old bearded man.

Heartless relatives.

A lonely boy.

Orphan.

A hairy giant.

An all knowing friend.

A red haired git of a pal.

A good looking rival.

A horrific past.

A slimy evil.

A scarred destiny.

He who must not be named.

Fantasy riddled.

A magic castle.

Kings battlefield on a chess board.

A snake's tale.

A philosopher's stone.

Broom games.

Scarlet and green.

Phoenix tears.

A new tale everytime.

New addiction.

Parseltongue.

Arachnids.

Norbit.

Animagus transforms.

The blue Albus twinkle.

The sacrifice of a mother.

The love of a father.

The flight from death.

A prisoner who fled.

Clockturner.

Blast Ended Skrewts

Pumpkin Patch.

Azkaban.

Padfoot.

Prongs.

Moony.

Wormtail.

Butterbeer.

Marauders map.

Room of requirement.

Cat, Rat & Dog.

A master with a servant who owes a favour to the Chosen One.

Godfather.

Quidditch Cup.

A goblet which sparked up a fourth time.

Triwizard tournament.

Durmstrang.

Beauxbaton.

Dragons.

Moaning myrtle.

Dragon eggs.

Mad Eye.

Polyjuice Potion.

The lost loyal servant.

A brave but calm death.

Return of the skilled torturer.

The dark mark.

Death eaters.

Duel.

Priori Incantatem.

An adolescent boy.

Teenage desires.

Dementors.

Expecto Patronum.

Self doubts.

Solitude.

Solace.

The first kiss.

DA.

Pink sneer.

I will never lie again.

Ministry of magic.

The duel of the two greatest magicians.

Snuffles' final fall.

The half blood prince.

Snivellus.

True love.

Horcrux.

Basilisk venom.

A faraway cave.

Inferi.

Dark magic.

The greatest wizard is no more.

Killed by the one whom he trusted the most.

Betrayal.

Tears.

Respect.

Centaurs.

He chose to die.

Revelations.

Horcrux hunt.

Dark motions.

Gloom.

Dark times.

Murder left and right.

Holey.

Seven Potters.

Meadows.

Godric's hollow.

Grindelwald.

Return of Polyjuice action.

Pensieve memories.

Tale of the Brave man.

The war for Hogwarts.

The seven broken parts

Nagini.

Tom Riddle diary.

Ravenclaw Diadem.

Marvolo Guant Ring.

Hufflepuff Cup.

Salazar Locket.

Harry Potter.

Hallows.

Elder Wand.

Resurrection Stone.

Cloak of Invisibility.

Avada Kedavra.

Expelliarmus.

The boy who lived.

Love. The solution, the power, the will, the belief.

I also remember,

And will continue to.

The bravest man who lived.

The slimy evil.

The epitome of love which was never fulfilled.

The story of a desire which is the shadow behind the lightning scar.

The story which makes a part of me.

A long story.

Indeed.

Nostalgia.

Faith.

Memories.

I hate to, I don't want to, but I have to leave.

I will miss you, D, more than any word in any language can express. I am silent. I can't take it no more. I love you.

Drops of salty hot water slide down as I fumble to wipe them. I will be with you, always.

I happened to clean my closet today. Things came tumbling out. I told D I will give her some of my most precious possessions, for life. Those small toys and tazos and cards and stickers and corals, they are as she said, remnants of a childhood. A child at heart, I am. At the end of everything, such small mementos and moments matter more to me than all those sparkled gifts.

The Eden redemption

Saturday, April 2, 2011

The script could have been more perfect. Just because it could have doesn’t mean it should have.

I have dreamt about this night. It’s been years. It’s an archaic feeling. It didn’t take me much time for it to sink in. It’s been a long time coming.

Feelings, unmatched, by the sheer intense grit of the passion that burst through the seams holding the seemingly tied-down being. The cacophony surrounding the path to illuminated euphoria drowned amidst the tears of joy. The men have found their heroes. The heroes have found their glory. I have found my redemption.

This love story of mine, which began at the Eden with a certain bespectacled gentleman named Kumble snapping up six and outclassing a sublime Lara, which found its first heartbreak at the same ground with the collapse of a colossal Tendulkar and a hopes of an entire nation, which reached the epitome of brilliance much in the same way you get hallucinated on a high with the unforgettable 2001 saga, which sowed the first seeds of the journey to the billion man’s dream at the Wanderers, finally peaked with The Redemption. I call it the Eden Redemption.

I can’t help but deny, there has been this sense of destiny, a statement corroborated by the man behind the scenes himself. He wanted the Cup. But maybe, he needed it more. It means more than mere statistics. It means more than just a piece of gold plated silverware adorning the awards case. It means more than just a nightlong celebration. It means more than the adulation that comes your way. It means more than scaling a peak which others have scaled before. It means more than being crowned with a tag. It’s something more than my words could ever describe.

He has never played for himself. The critic of him, I have been, I still would say, he has sacrificed everything for a team. A team, which now calls itself, Team India. He was the first one I saw who sported his country’s flag on his helmet. He wore it with pride. And it’s not hard to believe the petty politics dominant more than redundant in this country led to him being chided. He was barred from sporting the tricolor. All those games he was but a shadow of himself. And then, when one fine morning everyone wakes up to a reality, and he is allowed to wear the nation on himself, he is a changed man. He inspired the rest to do the same. Others have vouched for the passion and commitment that one small act has inspired.

He is an enigma, yet his life is an open book. He soars, yet he buries his feet deep in the ground. He dreams, and he turns those dreams to reality. He dreamt for a nation for 21 years, all alone trying to carve those dreams into a true reality. As another 22 year old said, “It’s time we carried him on our shoulders.”

If this had to happen, it had to happen for him. As I say, “It had to.” It’s destiny. It’s redemption.

This victory is about the common man’s dream. It’s about a dream which never died. It’s about a journey which will lead to your utopia but which comes with the voices telling in your ears, “Dream. Persevere. Aspire. Never let go.” It’s about a fight, a fight I take part in as much as you do and he does and she does. It’s about never giving up. It’s about doing your bit. It’s about taking a small step the RDB way, “No country is perfect. We have to make it perfect.” When everything all around you is breaking down, take a moment out. Remember this time, remember this moment. Savour it. Breathe it. Live it. And you won’t be the same again.

Maktub.

Happy Birthday D

A birthday is but another day,

When I can sing for you,

When I can fill your day with surprises,

When I can hold your hand and lead you blindfolded,

When I can wait drenched to see that awe smile,

When we can sip wine lost in the aroma of love,

When I can say I Love you,

And hear it more,

Thus could happen yesterday, today, tomorrow.

Thus could happen now.

A birthday is but another day.

Happy Birthday D

A sweetheart card

A classy wristwatch

2 roses of the yellow kind

2 of the rosy red

22 eclairs

Earrings

A Pendant

And most importantly, a time to savour which I spent with you ...

Catch 22 - The recollection

M.E.M.O.R.I.E.S

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

L.O.V.E

I have had birthdays. You all have had birthdays. We all have them. Sometimes we celebrate. Sometimes we have fun. Sometimes we screw up. Sometimes, well, we just let the day pass. And, sometimes, we just do all that together. I have had one of those birthdays, not long back.

I had wishes aplenty. I had messages abound. I replied to everyone who remembered me.

I expected the surprise.  Was just surprised by the absence of a few. I was stumped by the beautiful collection of notes and messages. I was bowled over by the cake. I had a great time.

I had the prettiest flowers. I had the perfect notebook. I had the tiny book. I had the perfect person.

I had the the surprise gifts. I had a gala time. I had fags. I had fun.

And then, I had the Queen of all surprises. I had the yummiest-chocolatiest-tastiest-bestest-awesommest-brilliantest homemade cake ever.

And, I had introductions made.

And, I had a great time. A G.R.E.A.T TIME.

And I had certain dreams coming true.

I had THE  T.I.M.E   O.F   M.Y   L.I.F.E

What of the time when I am not with you. When I only have to rei(g)n in the afterglow. When I have to go yearning for you while oblivious to the world. I am oblivious now. I am in tears. I don’t believe myself while I am writing. I dread to discover your pain. I can’t do without knowing that either. I can give my life for you. I know I don’t need to do that, but you are everything. E.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.  I can’t live without you. I love you.

Today meant a lot. A “l.o.t” as you say it. God Bless.

Ghost of me

Tears come streaming down

A shake of the head
More tears
Wiping of the cheek with the fold of the arm
Nostalgia
Not cut out to be
Adamance not to be admonished
Life moves on
So do we ...

Ripples on the water

It’s weird sometimes when you feel you have so much to do, and yet you do nothing, you just seem to have an inclination to go back in time. Not relive, but just looking back at who I was and how I was and how everything was. It’s probably the best form of educating you about yourself. The way you’ve grown to be somebody who you are now.

Today as I stand on the threshold of yet another big step towards my graduation, I realize there are so many things I could have done different, not necessarily better. The admission test where I had to write “Twinkle Twinkle little star” and a teacher helped me then. The elation when I was first appointed monitor in the first standard and then daily lock and key games subsequently. The absolute fun masti innocent home to school and back van journeys. Admission in a new school mid-term in the third standard and getting slowly used to Kolkata life. I remember the fun filled fights of fourth and fifth standard. Early exposure to words of love and sex in sixth and seventh standards used to make us friends so hush hush and keen alerted minds. Eighth and ninth standards were spent on getting exposed to national quizzing scenarios and first crushes and basically, ‘Growing Up’. Tenth standard was more of a fun filled journey. Barring the last day, one which is forever etched in memory, when so many friends were scattered from the everyday meet forever. Tears and hugs were never lacking. Eleventh standard was when I had the then biggest fall in my life. Betrayal from a best friend to losing friends to being basically lonely and realizing this whole thing the real hard way, indeed broke and wore me down. The silver lining was I had some new friends who really have stood by me ever since. Twelfth was when I once again stood up, trying to relive the last days in school. Some friends came back realizing their folly, all in all it was a embalming of sorts. The last day of school was essentially different from the one two years back. Before it even hit that there would be no waking up at 6.30 in the morning and running to catch the bus at 7.15 and rushing to manage the traffic as a badge holder and then managing the students as captain during the prayer and then attending classes, it was over. The last day during the investiture ceremony when I broke down on stage and the photo sessions to filling juniors’ slam books to getting 7 mindboggling proposals and then all of us classmates crying together with doors closed to finally dancing and singing it out that there would be no final farewells and hugs and kisses galore. And then not faring well in the boards and entrances to taking the real tough decision to reappear for entrances a second time against everyone’s wishes and then spending a fun filled year at Asutosh, making so many friends. That was when I realized I was and could be a really good person. And then getting into my first and only relationship till date, which was blissfully beautiful. And then getting admitted to JU. Alas good things don’t last! Everything going haywire. Losing the plot and break up taking its toll on me. Probably the lowest ebb in my life. A point of time when I really contemplated and attempted suicide and failed. Nothing went right. The only thing I had left was the faith on me. Nothing else existed. Except for a few friends who made it a point to bring me back.

Today, I’ll say I am much better. It could have been worse, maybe it could’ve better too. But with age comes a certain wisdom of knowing that experiences make and mould you into a better person. I have seen low points, lower than some, and better than some. But I’ve never regretted any bit of this. I have my detractors. I have my critics. My aim is not to silence them. ‘coz I also know I don’t need to do that and prove them wrong. I know myself best. And when the need arises, as and when, I’ll prove to myself. No one else. I have never withered in the face of a challenge. And I never will. Success does not always come to the one with the most victories. Happiness does not always come to the most successful. And it’s all in the mind. If you believe, anything is possible. When you’ve scraped the bottom of the ocean bed and come back to the top battered but alive you know you can. I can.

Memories ...

Memories.

Memories haunt.

Memories relived onwards.

Memories marching on.

Memories gnash.

Memories burn.

Memories daunt.

Memories hate.

Memories spark.

Memories live.

Memories forget death.

A day when memories awaken.

Everytime this day comes in a year.

And everytime.

Memories haunt.

Memories stare.

Memories slice through.

Memories mingle with fantasy.

Memories fight with reality.

Memories gain sight of victory.

Memories lose yet again.

A day when memories awaken.

Hollow-Man

No thoughts to speak about…yet so many thoughts just playing peek-a-boo…feeling hellish, alone, deserted … feeling so full of life…yet so very much incomplete…not at all into studies…not at all into anything…just scratching the superficial sub-layer of the wide stream of Everything…surfing the pages of “The theory of everything” by Stephen Hawking…bored…listening to sentimental rock…whoa a new genre of rock discovered and christened by me(or someone has already done it before me? ;-) )!!! … writing a couple of lines on word and then deleting…scratching the back of my head about what to write…thinking about the aimless-ness of my life…what’s the purpose???...”tum ho toh” playing…truly…what a life it would have been…pending exams…the ability to get help from known quarters on those days…to hell with studies…the lost friend’s memories…memories…a devastating word…brings back soo many things…no way…distract yourself boy!! … the long-impending hair-cut…the ponytail…tragic story of not a single photo being clicked of it…CHEMARADERIE’08…nice day it was…its preps helped me delve deep into something…DJ and the dancing…interaction…nice term…and whats everything without interaction??...1 year back…nooo not again…to HELL with memories…gotta rearrange my bookshelf…far too many books lying here and there…and also gotta make a trip to the library…wanna read Shantaram…but forgotten the name of the author…dammit!!...cant recollect…it used to be my specialty…was so damn good at quizzing and all…where’s all that gone now??...just lost all of that ability I guess…

happens…lost all motivation…hollow…feels just like hollow-man…whoa I’m the hollow-man!!...feels awesome…mastered an amazing ability to get into everything and yet stay just kissing the surface…numbed…or is it numb?...helps to stay in control…who is this speaking?...its my mind…nonsense…need a fag…lit the cig…curling smoke shrouds the front of the screen…”here I am” by bryan adams…my fav song…used to motivate me so very much…can it bring back that spark??...that spontaneous reaction of the feeling of going out there and conquering the world…seems so easy…its not soo easy…life’s taught me that the hard way…kept going and trying to no avail…memories again…O GOD!! What is it with this word??won’t it stop clinging onto me like a radio tied to my back??ever???...a quote comes to my mind…”One of the reasons why people hold onto memories so tight, is because memories are the only things that don’t change even when people behind those memories change…”…truly…be it for good or bad…now not again..no more philo n gyaan…too boring…distract man…need to learn playng the notes of the guitar..yeah meaningful workout…that’s what can keep me occupied now that the freshers welcome is over and nothing really to bide my time on…now the lyadh’s getting to me…the ever perennial JU lyadh ,fighting so long to take a stranglehold since the past 20 minutes, takes over…cant write anymore…

 

A small peek into the thoughts…others might not like it…dunt care…just felt like writing…just somehow feels nice..yeah even for this hollowman…lol !!...ending with another quote…”I’m propagating a unicameral form of idiosyncrasy occurring malevolently in the meritorious part of the claterubial brain…”…in short I’m remembering you…you see memories…I guess have to live with the fact that they’ll cheer me up and bog me down wherever n whenever…a confusing role they play…INDEED…