Harry Potter- The End of an Era

I have referred to this series of stories about the 'Boy Who Lived' before- in particular, regarding my tempestuous love affair with them. The same dilemma faced me again on around 8 PM on the 20th of July- whether to buy the book (at $28, no less!) or to simply search around on the Net and pick up the pdf, which probably was already out, and if not, was sure to be within a couple of hours (since the book itself was, by then, already out in the UK).
I, however, succumbed to the temptation and to the romantic notion of the greatness of this moment in literary, world and my personal history.
With another incredibly beautiful book, filled with great plotlines and extraordinarily powerful imagery, Rowling ends our association with Potter, which, I freely admit, leaves me with an emptiness and a sense of loss.
It must be my 'impressionable' age but the hopes and frustrations of Harry resonate so closely with mine, or those of any teenager, for that matter, that its difficult to imagine life without a true live friend who grew up with you and spoke your voice. The concepts of 'The One' and of the 'Saviour' have always been extremely fascinating, particularly in the recent examples of LOTR and the Matrix movies- HP brings forth that same hair-standing-in-the-back and warm-blood-rushing-through-veins feeling whenever Harry strides forth to face his nemesis, Voldemort. And incredibly, the flawed Hero ( again like Spiderman or wavering Frodo in LOTR)that Harry is, his fears and intentions, are allowed at times to be apparently 'stupid', considering his nobility and heart of gold. In a moment of grave crisis, his thoughts wander to snogging sessions with Ginny- which is another Rowling masterstroke, for its an incredibly real response; like the whole series really and quite so different from the Arwen-Aragorn kind of fantasy love.

Voldemort is the ultimate villain- his violence and remorseless evil marks him out as one of the greatest creations; he is visible, but only just so; he is confused but then, unaccepting and more malevolent.

The ending grants almost too much of a closure- it could have left a few more questions in the air for possibly, an eighth. It just is hard to accept that life must go on without HP.


One last wish- make this one a great movie: this is Return of the King material!

Whatever

Is life ever easy? I guess, for me, it will never be. For, I must admit, that I am luckier than most in being granted almost every wish- even then, I lead a life of confusion, angst and mostly, 'anticipatory consternation'. I meet trouble halfway, half-heartedly, which doesn't help, except being proud of the 'anticipatory' part of it.

I am resigned to a permanent state of heightened tension and a constant yearning for the peace of mind. Which, if attained, even for the briefest of periods, generated the same 'concerns'- for simply put, how can I be peaceful? It must be the calm before the storm, or am I forgetting something?

Apart from that is the often enough reminder that life flashes as regards the weakness of my soul and the hypocrisy of my being. I wallow in the mires of self-pity, alternating between the 'wanna-be popular guy' and the 'proud Bohemian'. Can I allow myself a smirk that I am not one but two steps ahead of the world? But then why does my heart ache for company and frivolity?

The answers are not easy. The catharsis continues, in dribs and drabs, in drops and ampoules.
Am I having a good time? Am I having a better time than others? Have I convinced others that I am having a better time than them?

I think I should shut up- stop thinking.
I think I should just write.