I think I started reading Harry Potter when I was in.. Third grade? And though I’ve grown up with it, quite literally, I’ve never re read (is it reread or re-read?) it. Never had to, its imprinted in my head.
Quite suddenly, I missed feeling warm. You know that feeling when you feel safe and protected, cuddley and comfortable? For no obvious reason I missed feeling that way. No book spoke to me, everything refused to put me out of this restless feeling.
So I started reading the Soccerers Stone.
As always with any cherished book, the warmth seeped it. Things a third grader couldn’t comprehend settled in, and I didn’t require hot coco or a blanket to feel the mood.
Reconnecting with old friends, characters I know as well as my best friends, seeing sorting hats and beautiful friendships forged, and meandering in this perfectly magical world I send out yet another thanks to the universe for blessing JKR with such imagination.
And this voices out my exact plea at the moment, when I miss the life of a student:
“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they’re bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we’ve forgot,
Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.”
I’m thinking of reading all seven. And then making it a yearly ritual.
I’m so glad I began reading each book the first day of release.
I’m so glad I waited in long queues early morning before school started, impatient and eager for the latest book. Im so glad I read it under a blanket using torch light- so mom didnt find out I was going to school the next day without getting a wink. Im so glad I got the one Cederic poster every chick in the colony wanted (Bhagya, remember?:P)
It was crazy but I’m so glad I did all this and more!