After not getting tickets for last weekend, we went to watch the final installment of the Harry Potter series on Saturday. I thoroughly enjoyed watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. At the end though, when the screen read the words, "The End", mom and I looked at each other misty-eyed and simultaneously said, "J.K Rowling really ought to write more Harry Potter books". It really felt like the end of an era.
I started reading Harry Potter sometime in 2000. My sister was the one who provided the first book. After that, I raced through books 3,2 and then 4 (I got hold of book #3 before book #2 and read it in that order 'coz I couldn't wait). Then began the long wait for book #5. I got that as a bribe.
I pre-ordered books #6 and #7. I was awake through the night to finish the humongous book #7 on the day I received it. Well worth it! By this time, Harry Potter & co were like friends. I also took strange joy in the fact that according to the book, Harry, Hermione and Ron were born in the same year that I was (the cheap thrills of life).
In between waiting for the next book in the series to show up, I refreshed my memory by reading the existing books all over again. With each reading I found more pieces of seemingly irrelevant information which later tied in perfectly with the plot lines of future books. Nice!
Then there were the HP movies. Initially, I mostly watched them so that I could complain about how they were not a patch on the books (movies #1 and #2 were such snore-fests - I slept through movie #1), but the main reason was, as a devout Harry Potter fan, it would be sacrilege to miss out on anything HP related. But slowly, I started looking forward to the movies as well.
I have HP to thank for tiding me through times when I was sick enough to be forced to stay in bed. Once I started reading HP, I got so immersed in its world that I pretty much forgot any other discomfort. I usually never cry while reading books. But when Dumbledore died (what, you did not know that??) in book #6, I shed copious tears: about Dumbledore dying but mostly for Harry - he was now an orphan in every sense of the word. But the amusing part was, when I re-read the book, I cried *all over again*. Like one of my friends asked, did I really think Dumbledore would not die when I read the book a second time around? The power of books!
This post is simply a rambling but fond farewell to one of favorite works of fiction. Seriously, even though I smirk when bands/authors make a grand declaration of some tour or book being THE FINAL ONE only to change their minds about a year later, I would be the first one to hand Ms. Rowling a paper and pen if she decides to change her mind about not penning any more HP-related works. Thank you Ms. Rowling for creating such a marvelous world for readers to enjoy!
I started reading Harry Potter sometime in 2000. My sister was the one who provided the first book. After that, I raced through books 3,2 and then 4 (I got hold of book #3 before book #2 and read it in that order 'coz I couldn't wait). Then began the long wait for book #5. I got that as a bribe.
I pre-ordered books #6 and #7. I was awake through the night to finish the humongous book #7 on the day I received it. Well worth it! By this time, Harry Potter & co were like friends. I also took strange joy in the fact that according to the book, Harry, Hermione and Ron were born in the same year that I was (the cheap thrills of life).
In between waiting for the next book in the series to show up, I refreshed my memory by reading the existing books all over again. With each reading I found more pieces of seemingly irrelevant information which later tied in perfectly with the plot lines of future books. Nice!
Then there were the HP movies. Initially, I mostly watched them so that I could complain about how they were not a patch on the books (movies #1 and #2 were such snore-fests - I slept through movie #1), but the main reason was, as a devout Harry Potter fan, it would be sacrilege to miss out on anything HP related. But slowly, I started looking forward to the movies as well.
I have HP to thank for tiding me through times when I was sick enough to be forced to stay in bed. Once I started reading HP, I got so immersed in its world that I pretty much forgot any other discomfort. I usually never cry while reading books. But when Dumbledore died (what, you did not know that??) in book #6, I shed copious tears: about Dumbledore dying but mostly for Harry - he was now an orphan in every sense of the word. But the amusing part was, when I re-read the book, I cried *all over again*. Like one of my friends asked, did I really think Dumbledore would not die when I read the book a second time around? The power of books!
This post is simply a rambling but fond farewell to one of favorite works of fiction. Seriously, even though I smirk when bands/authors make a grand declaration of some tour or book being THE FINAL ONE only to change their minds about a year later, I would be the first one to hand Ms. Rowling a paper and pen if she decides to change her mind about not penning any more HP-related works. Thank you Ms. Rowling for creating such a marvelous world for readers to enjoy!
