I've been wanting to read the Harry Potter books for a while now. Everyone who's read it has loved it and I know hardcore HP fans everywhere, so I thought I'd give it a try myself.
I thought of buying the entire boxset of the 7 books but I wasn't willing to pay full price, and when I saw someone selling it for 50, I immediately asked about it but it was on reservation. The books aren't so easy to find at the library either because they're always on loan.
However after some thinking as well as some reading of other series due to the hype around it, I decided that I am not gonna read Harry Potter after all, and I'm not going to try either. I've come up with 3 valid reasons so if you're a fan and you're reading this, please don't get mad at me.
1. It's not exactly my favourite genre.
In fact it's probably my least favourite. According to Wiki, the Harry Potter novels fall under the category of fantasy literature. They contain a few aspects of other genres but they're mainly categorised as fantasy. Never been exactly my thing.
I've liked books since I was a kid, and the HP books have been around since forever, even before the time I first started reading. There must have been a reason why I didn't pick it up despite it being everywhere; why my mother bought me all kinds of books that I liked but never Harry Potter. We both just knew it wasn't my thing.
And to tell the truth, wizards and witches don't exactly appeal to me. I'd read about werewolves, sure, and even a little sprinkle of vampires is okay but witchcraft and wizardry... Nah. [I watched the first film and was dragged to the fourth with my cousin, both movies of which I just did not enjoy.]
2. They're best read growing up.
I know a few Booktubers who read the books in their late teens and even early 20's. The most common complain they have is always "I should have read the books as a kid."
As someone who's turning 20 I don't think I should be reading middle grade books anymore. I read Percy Jackson last year, and while I enjoyed them a part of the experience was a bit spoilt due to the main characters being 12.
The main characters in HP grow older and wiser in the books, that I know, but I don't find myself relating to growing characters if I don't grow up with them. Is it just me? For now the youngest a character should be for me to enjoy the book would be at least 16.
3. I know a lot of what happens.
With fans and fan accounts everywhere there are spoilers every corner of Twitter. I know who dies, what who secretly is, who betrays who, yadda blah. Personally I wouldn't read a series I've been spoilt for; there won't be any emotional impact because I'd be expecting and waiting for it to happen.
The HP fandom is a strong one, to the extent that it's spoilt me on too many accounts. I got spoilt for The Mortal Instruments series quite hard, and that's probably why I'm not enjoying it even though I loved The Infernal Devices.
So no, I am not gonna read a series where I know exactly what's gonna happen here, there, and in the end.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Nephew, one day old forever
Unknown number flashing across the screen;
"E'indah, where on earth have you been?"
Cat lying in the sun witness to that phone call;
I, tears streaming down like a waterfall.
Lifting her cats lovingly in the air;
Putting powder down my back after pushing aside my hair.
Crosses borders for her first grandchild at the instance;
My grandmother, witness to his pale face in a halo of radiance.
Her tin of food never going unfed to any cats;
Staying up late at her table, sewing booties and hats.
"It's going to be a boy!" once she excitedly says;
My aunt, the one to bury, last to kiss his cold face.
His motorcycle adventures once on the newspaper;
Years ago, telling his stories with bits of dry humour.
There in support of her, to rid of her tears and bile;
My cousin and his wife, the loss of their first child.
Pushing out of her womb, one month short of nine;
Not even a struggle to escape, not a single cry.
To walk, to grow, to play with my niece, never;
My nephew, one day old, forever.
"E'indah, where on earth have you been?"
Cat lying in the sun witness to that phone call;
I, tears streaming down like a waterfall.
Lifting her cats lovingly in the air;
Putting powder down my back after pushing aside my hair.
Crosses borders for her first grandchild at the instance;
My grandmother, witness to his pale face in a halo of radiance.
Her tin of food never going unfed to any cats;
Staying up late at her table, sewing booties and hats.
"It's going to be a boy!" once she excitedly says;
My aunt, the one to bury, last to kiss his cold face.
His motorcycle adventures once on the newspaper;
Years ago, telling his stories with bits of dry humour.
There in support of her, to rid of her tears and bile;
My cousin and his wife, the loss of their first child.
Pushing out of her womb, one month short of nine;
Not even a struggle to escape, not a single cry.
To walk, to grow, to play with my niece, never;
My nephew, one day old, forever.
Sunday, March 08, 2015
Cousins
I don't remember the first time we talked,
the first time we laughed,
or even the first time we met.
We've just always been together.
I don't remember when we stopped being awkward or if we ever were,
when we started to look for each other immediately after we arrive,
when we became so comfortable with each other.
We've always been best friends.
You and the rest,
how I loved spending time with all of you,
being moody when it's time to go home,
imagining my action figures were all of you on the days we didn't meet.
The older ones would bring us to the void deck,
lit sparklers for us which we pretended were big fireworks.
The period when heelys were the trend,
all of us had our own pair and there we went,
zipping all over the place in our wheeled sneakers.
At least one of us would always have a deck of Uno cards,
and Stress was our favourite game,
how proud I'd been to be beating everyone at it.
I had so much stamina as a kid, running here and there,
trying to escape from the 'catcher'
or hiding from the seeker.
I was always talking non-stop, my mouth going on like a rocket,
all of us bouncing with chatter and laughter,
our gathered voices all around the house until the adults scolded us.
Sleepovers were of no exception.
I wasn't so independent as a kid and I didn't like to be far from my parents,
but I always wanted to stay over your house when invited.
Your neighbour from the 6th floor which you always gossiped about,
the pineapple playground which was your then crush's favourite spot,
making you stay awake to conjure up stories for me,
I remember them and more.
Being with all of you,
family gatherings like such,
were what gave me life back then.
But then,
like what everyone does eventually,
you all
grew
up.
Everyone was becoming more vain and self-conscious,
constant worrying about their hair, not wanting to wear baju kurungs anymore.
We'd go down not to play with sparklers anymore,
but to buy cup noodles, blast rap songs, smoke cigarettes.
I was slower than all of you.
I didn't care about being forced to wear baju kurungs,
while all of you showed up in jeans and shirts,
even you, my only girl cousin.
I became shy, not interacting much with adults or the younger kids,
much less all of you.
Everyone was singing the same songs,
talking about the same things,
remembering the same inside jokes,
except me.
I was probably the only one
who didn't know what all of you were talking about or singing.
I was gone for 2 years, vanished from all family gatherings,
and I come back as if I've survived a kidnapping and have had my tongue cut.
Now, on the few times I see you,
you would greet my parents and kiss their hands in respective greeting,
I would look at you, hoping you'd notice me,
because I want to smile at you and wave,
despite the fact we don't talk anymore.
You'd greet them, and walk away.
You don't even make eye contact with me anymore.
I'd sit on my own or with my own family,
while all of you are gathered together and still interacting with one another.
I'm glad you're all still talking, even though I'm not part of it,
and I wish not to be,
because cousins or not,
I think it's a fact that I don't fit in,
and that I have my own place to go.
the first time we laughed,
or even the first time we met.
We've just always been together.
I don't remember when we stopped being awkward or if we ever were,
when we started to look for each other immediately after we arrive,
when we became so comfortable with each other.
We've always been best friends.
You and the rest,
how I loved spending time with all of you,
being moody when it's time to go home,
imagining my action figures were all of you on the days we didn't meet.
The older ones would bring us to the void deck,
lit sparklers for us which we pretended were big fireworks.
The period when heelys were the trend,
all of us had our own pair and there we went,
zipping all over the place in our wheeled sneakers.
At least one of us would always have a deck of Uno cards,
and Stress was our favourite game,
how proud I'd been to be beating everyone at it.
I had so much stamina as a kid, running here and there,
trying to escape from the 'catcher'
or hiding from the seeker.
I was always talking non-stop, my mouth going on like a rocket,
all of us bouncing with chatter and laughter,
our gathered voices all around the house until the adults scolded us.
Sleepovers were of no exception.
I wasn't so independent as a kid and I didn't like to be far from my parents,
but I always wanted to stay over your house when invited.
Your neighbour from the 6th floor which you always gossiped about,
the pineapple playground which was your then crush's favourite spot,
making you stay awake to conjure up stories for me,
I remember them and more.
Being with all of you,
family gatherings like such,
were what gave me life back then.
But then,
like what everyone does eventually,
you all
grew
up.
Everyone was becoming more vain and self-conscious,
constant worrying about their hair, not wanting to wear baju kurungs anymore.
We'd go down not to play with sparklers anymore,
but to buy cup noodles, blast rap songs, smoke cigarettes.
I was slower than all of you.
I didn't care about being forced to wear baju kurungs,
while all of you showed up in jeans and shirts,
even you, my only girl cousin.
I became shy, not interacting much with adults or the younger kids,
much less all of you.
Everyone was singing the same songs,
talking about the same things,
remembering the same inside jokes,
except me.
I was probably the only one
who didn't know what all of you were talking about or singing.
I was gone for 2 years, vanished from all family gatherings,
and I come back as if I've survived a kidnapping and have had my tongue cut.
Now, on the few times I see you,
you would greet my parents and kiss their hands in respective greeting,
I would look at you, hoping you'd notice me,
because I want to smile at you and wave,
despite the fact we don't talk anymore.
You'd greet them, and walk away.
You don't even make eye contact with me anymore.
I'd sit on my own or with my own family,
while all of you are gathered together and still interacting with one another.
I'm glad you're all still talking, even though I'm not part of it,
and I wish not to be,
because cousins or not,
I think it's a fact that I don't fit in,
and that I have my own place to go.