The One That Started It All

                                                      

Last month a lot of people on Facebook shared their favourite books. As per the rule, one was supposed to share the names of only 10 books, but you know how it can be with books. Narrowing down the number of just 10 can be really really tricky. So, when I was tagged by a friend to share my list, the torture of choosing just 10 got the better of me and I did the next best thing. I didn’t participate in this tag game. Like always there was a bunch of sourpusses who dissed the whole thing, saying that people Googled the best book and listed them out. Whatever the case was, it was good to see people talking about books for once instead of some other random event or human being who don’t affect our lives even minutely.

Anyway, I started making a list before I gave up. The whole exercise was excruciating in a way as I was juggling the list of favourite books in my mind. Some names got replaced every time I made a list but one book retained its place each and every single time, remaining the first name on the list. And it was the very first novel I had read. "Dr Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde". I still remember the day when it came into my life. 21st April. It was my birthday. I lived in a small town, in a close-knit community. Before going to a birthday party, everybody discussed which presents to take for the birthday girl/boy so that there were no repeated gifts. How thoughtful right! Even the store owner knew which gift was taken by whom. I guess it was my 9^th birthday. Like any other 9 year old girl I was expecting some exciting gifts. Something no one ever gave me before. And that wish came true when this one guy gave decided to give me a novel because ‘all other gifts were taken’. I remember being extremely disappointed and angry at him. I mean how could he give me something that kept me confined to one spot and I actually had to make an effort to read! I did that in school..why would I want to do at home. Don’t get me wrong, I liked reading but I was more into comics and short stories rather than a full fledged novel. Nevertheless, I was angry and I shoved the book into some corner of my bookshelf. It saw the day of light when one unforgiving summer afternoon forced all us to stay indoors. After all, it was the only way you could survive. (Seriously, the heat could have easily melt or evaporate anyone. Well at least the 9 year old me thought so). I decided to look for a comic to re-read when I saw this novel. I saw it a lot of times whenever I spent some time with my bookshelf and I never paid attention to it. But this time, it almost seemed like it was screaming at me to pick it up. I was sceptical but I did pick it up. I thought, if I had to be confined to one place and read, I might as well read something new. What’s the worst that could happen? I would lose a few hours of my life. Not that I was bothered about this issue back then. I turned the first page. Then the next one. And another. Another. And I got up after the last page was turned. Between a few hundred pages that lay between the first and last one, I found a new world. A world which I refused to leave since.

That birthday I was given the greatest gift. It gave me the ability to step into different worlds that were fantastical, scary, happy and sad, all at once. I could step into different dimensions, slip into the shoes of a million characters and feel a multitude of emotions. All sitting in the same place! And I thought books confined you to just one place! Heights of naivety I’d say. I guess that moment when I felt this power of transporting to new, imaginary yet such believable worlds was the most exciting moment in the 9 years of my life. It was almost surreal. I remember that story so well, even after 17 years of reading it. I was just blown away by how story-telling can be so damn absorbing. I was in awe. I fell in love that day. I fell in love with a book. I fell in love with reading. I fell in love with the art of story-telling. Today, it is such a big part of my life. Rather, it found a way to weave my life around it.

They say that the first of anything is special and this was my first novel ever. No book can ever take away its importance and its significance. Since that day, I believed that every book enters your life when it is supposed to. So, the next time people judge you if you haven't read some particular classic or if you cannot pick up a book that’s being lying around your home around since ages, it’s OK. The time is not right. Maybe you won’t get the story or relate to it or find it unexciting. Wait for the right and the book will become a big part of your life. Permanently. You will know when to start reading it. If you love books the way I do, they communicate with you in their own way and you will understand them. You will know when to pick up a certain book. Maybe if I read the novel as soon as I got, I wouldn't it have enjoyed. Maybe it wouldn't have changed my life. Or maybe it would have. But I know one thing for sure. I picked it up when it wanted me to and it showed me a way. Even though it came in my life in April, it wasn’t until June that I started reading. And till this day, that June has been a life-changing month for me. Is this my favourite novel of all times? Probably not. Is this the one that changed my life? Hell yes.

So, thank you, Robert Louis Stevenson for writing it. Thank you A, Mr. and Mrs T. for picking it up and thank god for finishing off all the ‘good gifts’. Otherwise they couldn't have gifted me the novel. A, I’m sure you don’t remember this birthday because it was eons ago and I'm pretty sure you don't even remember me. But wherever you are, know that you gifted me a lifetime of joy that accompanies reading. If someone ever asks me again, which was the one book that changed my life, I know my answer. It was the very first novel I read, the one that started it all.

Which was that book for you?

Legacy of Harry Potter

Harry, Ron, Harmione, Malfoy, Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort, aren’t just any names but these are the names which brought a sense of inexplicable comfort and joy in my teens. It won’t be an exaggeration to say that this book was a big part of my life when I was growing up. I can safely say that I grew with the Potter series. The definition of fantasy was changed when J.K.Rowling conceived HP. Till then, the concept of fantasy included prince, princesses, super heroes, who were ‘good' while devils, witches were the ‘baddies’, who were eventually defeated by the good guys. With HP, wizards were not the ‘bad’ guys, but a magical race of people living in a secret world, with good and bad amongst them. HP series came with a bang, broke all possible records and took the world by storm and was worth every ounce of the hype. Once again, reading was ‘cool’.

My affair with HP started on one summer afternoon. When the bad picture quality and abridged version of the rented DVD left me confused about the entire concept, I decided to pick up the book, which I finished in two days flat (which, then, was a big feat for the 13 year old me :P ). I was bewitched, to say the least. Not a single day was spent without wishing that I wasn’t just a mere muggle. HP wasn’t just another story. It was a perfect amalgamation of reality and fantasy. It had the figments of magic and strokes of harsh realities of life. 

Every book in the series outlined one topic in particular. ‘Good vs. Evil’. It wasn’t just the usual ‘hero vs.villian’ stuff. It emphasized on how to face and handle the good and bad in self, in friends, in different situations and emotions.  It's portrayed very dramatically that the ‘good’ sometimes has to fight a lot to rise above the ‘bad’ but it eventually wins. This has been an age old lesson but the HP series took it to a different level. The concept of courage, trust, friendship, compassion,faith and hope has been brilliantly essayed. Whether it was a Quidditch match or fight against Voldemort, I always found my heart racing. Every character is sketched with utmost care and detail throughout the series, which isn’t a mean feat. Everyone, for sure, will relate themselves and their friends with some character in the book. I surely did. My emotions ran wild whenever I read these books. There were a lot of humorous moments (Weasley twins’ antics, Ron’s wrong spells) , many nail-biting instances (esp.Quidditch matches,) many gasping moments (Hermione almost turning into a cat, her punching Malfoy, the big chess game in the 1^st book), happy moments ( Harry meeting everyone after the vacations, win after a game, their achievements, and Ron and Hermione FINALLY getting together) and painful parts which made sure of misting my eyes (Harry’s constant yearning for his parents, the fights and misunderstanding between him and Ron, kept me in the sad mode for hours) But the death of Sirius, Dumbledore, Weasley twin was totally unexpected, unrequired and devastating. I was thankful that I was alone when I weeping over their demises. It was a crazy roller-coaster ride. I would laugh, gasp, and cry all at once. It was too difficult a task of juggling all the different emotions within short intervals. All this for fictitious characters!

HP series personally helped and inspired so many people in so many unimaginable ways. Innumerable stories from around the world are a proof of that. The magical part was sheer delight. It left everyone wishing that the magical part in the books was a reality instead. I can say with utmost confidence that all the readers, at some point or the other, wanted to get a invitation letter from the wizard world, wanted to keep owl as a pet, wanted to ride the broom, held a stick or pencil and uttered different spells, gazed up in the sky hoping to see flying brooms, wished they had the invisibility cloak, wished they could eat the funny chocolates, had the urge to run through a pillar in a railway station, looked at a person and wondered if he/she was a wizard/witch. Just about everything about HP series felt so cool. Many a times it was like an ice-breaker for me when it came to making new friends. That time, school kids were not segregated as popular and nerds but as HP fans and non-HP fans. It was accompanied by a weird sense of belonging when you automatically were a part of the huge, ever-growing Potter family. Who would have thought that time, that a book would make such a gigantic difference in any way possible.

There were times when I was sure that Rowling had a secret wand and she just waved the wand to come up with all the amazing stories. The moment a new book came in the market, the wait for the next one started. And the wait was always excruciating (not exaggerating again). I was just in awe of her story telling. What seemed insignificant and irrelevant in one book became an important part in another book. Every book had some loose ends which were finally tied down in the last book. This just shows the brilliance of Rowling's story-telling. It's just weird to think how all the books and the entire storyline was planned way before she started writing. Reading the last book was the most difficult and bittersweet experience. I wanted to read it as fast as possible just to know what happens next but at the same time I didn’t want read it fast as it was the last of HP series. The book got better and exciting with every turning page and when the last page came I couldn’t believe it was finally over. (Yea, another bout of sadness). It was surreal. But even there were movies still being made and that was comforting. Now when the last movie was released, I couldn’t help but wonder if this, indeed, was the end of an era. But, I realised that it was just a hypothetical end as the HP series has left behind a legacy. An unforgettable, eternal legacy. I remember fairy tales always starting with a ‘once upon a time’ and ending with a ‘happily ever after’. This series had a start and end which almost meant the same but it's zillion notches above what you call a fairy tale or any other tale. Many stories have been inspired among the same lines but they will never attain what HP has. I’m sure HP will still be popular many generations down the line. Harry started his journey on the steps outside his aunt’s door and completed his journey inside everyone’s heart.

For me, HP series kept me enchanted for a long time. It will always be special and memorable for me in many ways. Daniel Radcliff said that he’s the only person in the world who doesn’t want an eighth book. Undoubtedly, he’s true about that. Rest of us muggles will be over-the-top if Rowling picks up her magic wand and create another masterpiece. Till then, fingers crossed. And hoping to receive the letter from Hogwards ;)