"I have the heart of a small boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk."
-Robert Bloch

I'd love to change it to " I have the heart of a little girl", but:
1. It is a quote, after all.
2. The changed version sounds very funny
So lets make do with the original quote. I want to discuss a very oft-repeated topic. How we all mature from little kids into adults, and then look back to reminisce, how wonderful it all was. By 'it', I mean, childhood. We all grow up, and we just leave it all behind. Like, putting a that heart in a small jar on your desk.
I've always thought that I had a journey towards maturity. Something which started when I was born, and continued as I grew up. I have always believed that if there was one thing I could do, it was to be able to map it all out through my diaries. In fact, that is the one reason why I started writing them. To go back, and experience the "growing-up", and comment as I went along. I have a very bad habit of doing just that. I call it bad, because it gets me obsessed with it all, and unknowingly gives me the desire to dissect everything out. In several ways, Anatomy ( the one subject I hate) rules my life. It would be ok, if the dissection sticks to my life only, me only. But, it doesn't. I go out judging people, dissecting out their personalities, and I hate doing it. Because most of the time, its not even fair to them.
But, moving away from my rambling ( see, I can just get carried away with anything. I should really learn a lot more HTML, to put in all that I feel when I'm writing), I was reading my diary, as is my regular habit. And, contrary to my supposed belief that I journeyed into something resembling maturity, I haven't actually done so. Upto about 15 years of age, I can feel the child inside me, in all those pages. And, its just not a child, I really mean that I was kiddish in my way of looking at things. When I try to compare, what I wrote then, and what I write now, the gist of the matter doesn't change. I wrote about my day then, I write about it now. I wrote about a lovely cricket match I watched ( I do write about that), and I still write about it now. The difference is in the way it is all written. Its not just to do with the English I used, or the descriptions I gave. My perspective was more or less, small. I don't find depth, or any understanding of any situation I wrote about. I talked about feelings even then, but it is never clear, what exactly I have to say. I just couldn't describe myself. And probably didn't have enough time to think about it.
So what I want to say is that, I believe I have matured. And I have done so, in the past three years. Gosh! Thats a mighty heavy thing to say. But, it is true. I marvel at myself. So, I have grown up to face situations with a grey heart instead of the black-or-white one I had when I was in school; Where there's a lot more to anything than just right or wrong; Where there is a lot more to the mind than just love, hatred, joy and good-old jealousy.
Its just shocking, that I realise this now. I don't find an abrupt change. I guess, as I faced a bigger world, my perspective changed, my mind grew, and I felt more things, in different concentrations ( not exactly the word, but will do). So, in the end, it isn't shocking. I'm just comparing three years of something new to the 15yrs of before ( not 15 actually, about 3, because that is how much I have recorded). I guess, 10years down the line, I'll look at this entry and laugh and further talk about 'new perspectives'.
Why the quote, then, when it doesn't even fit into the equation here? Well, the child inside us always remains. Its never lost. We just remove that heart out, and set it aside in a jar ( ready to put it back, whenever we fancy). Setting it aside, is a sort of landmark, and I guess I found mine:-)

Harry Potter

Happy Birthday To J.K. Rowling and Harry. Assuming that, Harry's life goes alongside mine ( I've read all the books during the period of 11-17yrs), you turn 19 today. Stupid really, forget the age. Just a very, very Happy Birthday.

Another year goes by, and, so does my wish of actually writing to J.K. Rowling thanking her for a book that has been a companion all through the formative years, and will be one, forever. So, I have decided that I'll write it here. I don't care when she reads this. I don't even know whether she will read it or not. But, an attempt is being made here. So here goes.

I was given my first Harry Potter ( strangely, it wasn't Philosopher's Stone. I got Prisoner of Azkaban) on my 11th birthday. My uncle had been to the UK, where the Harry Potter mania was most felt. He thought it would be the perfect gift for his readinng-crazy niece. It sounds very funny now to talk about it. But I didn't even know about Harry Potter then. He asked me about it, and gave me the book. I just stared at it.......wondering whether I'd like this new author. And I started off with it during my Diwali vacations. I was hooked. My eyes pained, my head became a little woozy because of the continuous reading, I had to read a few pages again and again because I couldn't fit anything more. But I was hooked. One of the books talks about a cursed book that one went on reading forever ( with it being stuck to the witch's nose). I was probably struck by the curse ( though I wouldn't call it that) too. I was insanely in love with it.

Going back to school, I started talking about it, and thought there were a hundred others written by the same author ( I was that clueless). Well, my knowledge improved and soon, I became one of those freaks who can't live without reading at least a page of it in the day. I read the rest of the books, and finally finished when I was 17, with Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. So, Harry's journey has sort of resembled mine.

Guess that is the reason I consider all the characters to be close friends, even deriving inspiration from Hermione's scholarly and know-it-all ways to improve upon my studying. Reading Sirius dying was a blast out of the blue. It shook me badly. I haven't been able to read that part in the Ministry again. Dumbledore's death was beyond grief. But, the book that takes the Honour in the amount of tears drawn, has to be Deathly Hallows. Reading it, knowing it's all going to end is hard enough. Add on the people she killed off, it wasn't a happy experience. But, it is a wonderful book, and just narrowly misses the top spot to Prisoner ( because that it my very first Harry Potter, and that makes it extra special).

Harry Potter has been something like a second life to me. I read it everytime I get upset, everytime I'm angry, or even when I'm happy. When I don't have a book to read, I just pick up a Harry Potter and start off. It is incredibly calming and purifying. And I NEVER get bored of it. I have evolved as a person in the past 6-7 years. I owe a lot of things. And Harry Potter is one of them. I owe J.K. Rowling so much more than I could ever say or even do. She has created a world that we all want to be a part of. And, it doesn't matter that we aren't a part of it. Because the magical web her words spin everytime she writes, just entangles us in that world whenever and wherever.

I know I'll be reading this story to my children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I know I'll always gift a Harry Potter to a child, before anything else, such is the impact of this wonderful series. Joanne, you created this enchanting paradise in the 20th and 21st centuries. But, it will be discussed for many more centuries to come. As a Harry Potter freak, I feel honoured to have been able to read it again and again and again. And, every July 31st, I feel great pride in wishing you and Harry the best there can be.

Thank You!! Have a Wonderful Year ahead!!!

" For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."
- Shakespeare

I love this quote. It really puts into words, my definition of Love. Of course, I hardly have a definition, as a complete chapter on Love. But, it gets the essence of what I have to say.

I thought I'd talk about love today. I have been forced to question its sanity a number of times. I did not believe in it, a few years back. I did not want to believe in it, about a year or slightly more, back. I have always asked myself ( did not dare to ask my mom, for reason I'm not going to mention) what it is like to be in love, how does one know that one has fallen in love for sure, and the repeatedly asked question " Does one fall in love only once?''

I finally did arrive at my own theory of love. And I thought I'd put it down here, today. Nothing special, just the irresistible desire to assert the integrity of this term which has made history interesting over the ages. I get discouraged at times in believing that love does exist, so this is a way of not doing so.

Love is satisfaction; knowing that you have finally found what you want, and feeling that there is nothing more special than that in your life. Love is trust; having faith in somebody, knowing that he will never stab you in the back, knowing that he cares about you as much as you do about him. And love is desire; the need to be with somebody, the way one turns to one person at all times good or bad, feeling that wave of flutter going through you as you look into his eyes.

Why do we love? Or rather, why do we look for love? Why is it that we want to share our life with somebody, and that we make eveyr effort in finding that somebody? I guess, the answer is: at the end of the day, we all want to feel wanted. We need to know that we aren't alone in this world, and that there is somebody for whom every single thing we do, is as important, as it is to us.

Susan Sarandon talks about marriage in "Shall We Dance". She says, " We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'." I think that is quite the thing in love too. You want to know that you are being noticed. Hell, you need to know.....and you won't rest till you find it. So if that means you have to date a hundred people for a hundred years, you do that, because, at the end of the day, there is no life that is complete without love.

Love is said to be an illusion during teenage. We don't know what we talk about, when we say we love somebody. In a marriage, it is compromise. You cut back on something for the person you love. During the 40s, it takes a backseat. You have more important things to cater to. Children growing up, the midlife tensions getting to you; there isn't time to say " I love you", or may be you've gone past the stage when you even feel it. You have somebody. Thats it. Taken for granted. Nothing romantic about it. More important roles to play, the roles you play for each other vanish.

I don't even know why I'm writing this, whether it is true. But my point is, you need to realise you can't take people for granted, especially the person, who at one point of time was the 'special someone'. Love isn't just about finding the person who cares about you, and then ( a term used very frequently and very dispassionately) settle down. It is about making the other person feel special throughout life. It is about thinking of the other person before you think of yourself. It is about doing those small things like waking up in the morning and making a small cup of tea, going out on a Sunday for a quiet dinner for two, pressing her head when she just says,'' My head's starting to pain.'', helping her out in the household chores, giving him his favourite dish for lunch without telling him so, making those birthdays and anniversaries quiet, peaceful and special. That is what Love is.

It isn't about looking at each other every morning and discussing the day's work. It isn't about bickering about the broken down refrigerator every time you meet in the day. And it definitely isn't about forgetting what you promised each other in your vows, twenty years down the line.

Children will grow up and leave to live their own lives. Jobs will end one day in retirement. The dammed refrigerator will be repaired in few hours. But what never leaves your side, is that love you took to be your own; to protect and make happy, to trust and share a life with. Tears, sorrow, quarrels, are supposed to be a part of the package. But there is a difference felt (by others too), when these do tend to squash any feelings of love that might still remain.

Love is what makes life bearable, and the End easier than we think. Treasure it, treasure the other person, and let him or her know that they do , at the end of it all, mean the world to you.

As a big Lance Armstrong fan, it was a little disappointing to watch him finish on the podium without the Yellow Jersey. But, as a comeback, we couldn't have asked for a more positive one. He definitely looks one of the oldest on Tour, but there is also a mature determination on his face, and a very , I guess I can only call it, mellow yet strong will to finish the Tour on his face this time. His face more or less remains expressionless, but this year, watching him, I did see the adult athlete racing with the kids around. All around him, there was this youthful fire, raw, vibrant and spitefully hungry at times.......and then him; with the settled, warm and continous fire that one associates with the older guys.
Its a very different Armstrong we saw this year. Yet, he appears no less challenging, in fact, I would bet on the Yellow Jersey on him next year, more than I could have managed all throughout 1999-2005. Its amazing how he has come back, actually.
In fact, it was tough to follow the Tour in 2006, and have a winner who wasn't Lance Armstrong. I thought I'd never have him back on the race circuit ever ( having followed cricket for all my life, where, retirees don't really make an about-turn). So this is definitely just as good as it gets. We're seeing a new chapter in Tour history being written, and it is going to be as memorable as the previous one, if not as long as that.
And of course, finally, Alberto Contador has to be given credit. He really did nail it this time. And he completely deserves his second Yellow Jersey.
Lance Armstrong, I ardently am pinning to the hope that next year, I will see you in that Jersey on the podium. But, got to admit it, its just such a treat to watch you back on Tour. Kudos!!