The white hair and beard ... !

Gandalf: Who are you?

Old Dumbledore: Are you the one who's gonna replace me??

New Dumbledore: I am the new Dumbledore, The old one can dress up as Santa Claus for Christmas in heaven and Gandalf can go eat metals (you know, Magneto)! ……………………………………………………………………

I've always wondered why the actor who played as Gandalf in Lord of the Rings couldn’t take over the role of Albus Dumbledore in the Harry Potter movies. A lot of people must have thought about this too. Well here's the answer –

“Actor Ian McKellen refused to take over Richard Harris' role of Professor Dumbledore in the Harry Potter film franchise - because his portrayal of wizard Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings trilogy is far superior to the Hogwarts character.

The 68-year-old also admits he turned down the opportunity because replacing Harris would have been unsuitable, since the late actor publicly defamed McKellen's acting ability shortly before his death in 2002.

McKellen says, "People say to me, 'Don't you wish you'd played Dumbledore?' I say no! I played Gandalf! The original. There was a question as to whether I might take over from Richard Harris but seeing as one of the last things he did publicly was say what a dreadful actor he thought I was, it would not have been appropriate for me to take over his part. It would have been unfair."

Michael Gambon took over Harris' role as Dumbledore in 2004's Prisoner of Azkaban and has continued to portray the character since.”

The Swing

   It was weekend. The whole family – my mom, dad, paternal grandma, cousin sister, cousin brother, aunt and uncle, my dad’s sister (my aunt again), Ash (my 2^nd cousin) and myself – had planned to go to the Creek Park.

   It was around 4:00 in the evening when we were all sitting on the nice cool grass – not exactly, because we had actually spread a cloth on the grass and then sat on it – after taking our lunch. After a little time I got bored and started looking around as usual. My eyes caught sight of the old play area for kids some distance ahead. Suddenly, out of nowhere I found this very childish part of me screaming, “I wanna play in the swing! I wanna play in the swing!” The next thing I know is that I had run all the way to the play area where all the slides and swings and children were present.

   To my disappointment, I saw very few children out there. It wasn’t like how I used to come here when I was a kid. I looked around wondering where all the kids were and what I saw took me aback. Most of them were busy with their mobiles or PSP while some were bullying their much younger siblings. Now here, I’m talking about kids who are in kindergarten and primary. The even more shocking part was that their parents weren’t paying any attention to these kids.

   Anyways, I went to my favorite spot – the swing. There were hardly more than two children playing here. I sat on one of the swings that was vacant and I started swinging happily to and fro. In fact I could almost touch the rod at the top with my feet. It felt awesome, the wind rushing against and the colour rushing back to your face. I felt much healthier.

   After some time I noticed that there was no one around me, except for a small Arab boy around the age of 6 sitting on the opposite swing. I noticed that he wasn’t enjoying like how I was. He looked very sad and lonely. It looked like he did not know how to swing and wanted someone to give him a push. His eyes followed my movement with an expression of intense longing to go as high as I can. Looking at this, the part of me that still belonged to the child I was, smiled with joy – “See? I can almost reach the branch of the tree. Can you?” He kept looking at me for a long time and I began to feel sorry for him, I wanted to help the little boy.

   I slowed down and landed on my feet lightly and quite gracefully. He lowered his gaze as soon as I turned to him. I walked up to him and kneeled down so that I can come to his level of height. He tried not to look at me but my eyes were fixed on his, trying to make him look at me.

“What is your name” I asked, trying to sound as sweet and sister-like as possible. I did not want the kid to run away.

“Ameen” he replied, shyly.

“Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know” he shrugged. He did not look at me.

I didn’t know what to say. I looked around for his mother or father but saw no one who was aware of this 
boy’s existence. I looked at him again and smiled.

“Do you want me to give you a push? Do you want to swing high like how I did??” I asked.

   He looked up at me for the first time. At first I thought he was scared. But then his face lit up and he smiled and gave a little nod. I smiled at his excitement and said –

“Hold on tight, you are gonna go on a new ride!” trying to sound cheerful.

   And I kept giving him a little push as he soared high, swinging back and forth, laughing and shouting happily. I have never felt this kind of happiness before. This was different, the happiness I got from this. It reminded me of how my mom used to do the same thing when I was a small child. How I used to laugh and be so happy.

   I did not know how the time passed as we played there. But my mom beckoned me from where our group sat and I had to go. I bid him goodbye and he too waved back. As I was going back, I saw that he had learnt at last how to swing on his own. I could see that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. I don’t know whether his parents or guardian turned up but one part of me did not want to leave him all alone there.

My mind goes wild!

… Tic Tok Tic Tok Tic Tok Tic Tok …

Now that’s the wall clock in my room, that sounds like its saying, “Wake up or I’ll kick your bum!” You listen closely; you hear the exact same words. You listen even closely; you’ll hear a lot more things that would make you wanna throw the wall clock out of the big open window besides it.

It was ten minutes to seven in the evening. I was sitting on my bed, resting my back on my bulky pillow, most of my body was hidden under the cozy comforter; under one hand, I had a cushion and on the other hand, I had a mug that was filled with fruit juice, from which I would take a sip now and then.

…. Tic Tok Tik Tok Tic Tok ….

I was simply sitting – still not completely recovered from my sleepy mood – staring at the wall clock and the insect that sat on it.

First, let me tell you what was in my mind when I was staring at the wall clock. Time runs so fast. I went to sleep at around half past four and had set the alarm in my phone to wake me up at half past five. When I woke up from my sleep it felt like I have hardly slept for 5 minutes, but to my dismay, the clock showed that it was 6:35 pm. It happens always. I can’t help wonder why.

Now about the insect, a garden fly has come out of nowhere into the room, because when I woke up and looked at the clock to check the time, it read 6:#5; only thing was that the ‘3’ next to the ‘5’was covered by the insect.

I took a sip from the mug. To be honest, it freaks me out to find an insect in my room, especially an insect that ‘came from nowhere’. I kept staring at the insect and the clock for another five minutes (or fifteen?). Something about the ‘tic tock tic tock’ was hypnotizing or it made it impossible for me to take my gaze away from the clock. I took another sip.

Now this is where I use my wild imaginations. I LOVE imagining wild, impossible stuffs. It has always been my hobby since I was a kid. So this is how it goes –

The insect suddenly moves. It positions itself in such a way that it looks like it is directly looking at me. Very creepy. And then it gives me a start – and some of the juice spills out – as it starts circling around the room. And then slowly it lands on the ground, thankfully not on the bed. I can’t see what exactly happens, but the place where the insect has landed, there came a sudden glowing blue light and a spark. The next thing I know is that ‘out of nowhere’, a cute looking guy – who looks somewhat like Anna Paquin (Rogue)’s boyfriend in X-Men, the dude who can produce ice – appears panting, trying to stand on his feet. I hadn’t recovered from the shock yet and had hardly forced out the words, “Who or what the heck are you?” when –

“Hi! I’m Jimmy Verne” He said. I said nothing but simply stared at him with a completely freaked out expression.

“What’s going on? Who are you?” I asked after what seemed like an hour.

“I am an Animagus. We have powers to transform into animals, or insects in my case. I have come here to tell you that you are also like one of us.” He said.

I say, “Tell me I’m still dreaming!”

………………….

And my wild imagination ends there. It could have been a bit longer but I was woken up from my reverie by the alarm in my mobile going again. This must be the hundredth time that it rang, after being snoozed another hundred times. I also could hear the wall clock going, “Wake up or I’ll kick your bum” and this time it had more versions like, “Get out of bed or you’ll be dead” “Bye! Bye! Time is running … woohhooo! You’ll be crying”

So I drag myself out of bed to wash my face. I look at myself in the mirror and for one second I thought I saw a cat staring back at me. I wash my face and then look again, just to see my shocked expression of my face changing back to relief.

I get back to my room to see the bed is not made (mom would kill me when she comes back), my Arabic text book has not been opened since, when? (Oops! Tomorrow is my Arabic exam, totally forgot about it) and oh! I still haven’t finished drinking my juice. And when I looked around, the insect was nowhere to be found!

The Return of the Blogger.

It has been – or it feels like – a very long time since I’ve blogged. What with all the exams and my poor health, I have been pretty busy lately. But I have a lot to share. A lot of things had taken place in the past two months. But I've been enjoying it. So I have been very busy and I did not get much time to blog. That is one reason. The second reason was that I was sick and I was also lazy. Laziness is enough a reason for anything to get stuck. So I need not tell anything more about it. Now I am going to blog sincerely and please don’t get pissed off if my posts are too long. Read till the end. Enjoy!

Poem: Life

Below is a poem that I wrote when I was in 5^th grade. When I read it now, it sounds very funny, because I still haven't figured out what exactly life is! I kind of stick to the last paragraph. Thought of sharing it:

Life

God’s blessings were showered,

He created lives,

Some hearts like flowers

And some hearts like knives.

Life is a game,

With so many toys,

Who are not the same

With lots of sorrows and joys.

Life is a cycle

With so many days

And with so many obstacles

Waiting on our ways.

Life is a message of truth,

With birth and death,

Where fate is the passage or root

in every breath.

Life has a candle,

That guides us to the right path,

And when we mishandle

Won’t fulfill our oath.

Life is a response,

To our stimulus,

Whose correspondence

is always curious.

In life, God always lent me a hand

When ever I fell down,

And made me stand

And helped me dawn.

Life has a shadow

That always walks with you,

But appears only when there

is light above you.

Life is a … er …. nothing,

That has something,

which can be … er … anything,

and it is the answer for everything!

The ‘H’ word …

Homework! Oh, Homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you away in the sink,
if only a bomb
would explode you to bits.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You're giving me fits.

I'd rather take baths
with a man-eating shark,
or wrestle a lion
alone in the dark,
eat spinach and liver,
pet ten porcupines,
than tackle the homework,
my teacher assigns.

Homework! Oh, homework!
you're last on my list,
I simply can't see
why you even exist,
if you just disappeared
it would tickle me pink.
Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!

- Jack Prelutsky

Now that was a lot of swearing because I typed the ‘H’ word! And I don’t blame Jack P (can’t spell his name right) for swearing, because I can understand how he feels.

It’s September 13^th, a day before one of the worst days of your academic year. After almost two months of summer vacation nocturnal routine, i.e. waking up to find that its lunch time and going to sleep once the light goes dim (I mean, after you switch the TV off), you really don’t feel like waking up before the sun is even up but still going to sleep late after you are done with doing all your school work (from making presentations – and phone calls – and packing my bag at night when everybody is snoring).

“I don’t like this!!! I don’t want to do holiday home– I mean, the ‘H’ thing.’ I told my friend on phone today and she said, “Don’t talk about it!” The fact that I haven’t finished it isn’t really frightening because teachers never collect them on the very first day of doom’s year, or the ‘S’ thing. What I don’t get is why they give it in the first place. They don’t really count them seriously or give them marks. All the hard work just goes in the dumps! And it’s an extra pain for them also to check all our works. I really wonder whether they even check it properly. But I don’t think holiday homework – oops! I said the word – benefits any of us in any ways. It doesn’t make much sense to me.

And if they expect us to study on holidays, well I think that’s completely unfair. But I admit that I forgot maths completely, because I couldn’t do the worksheet they have given us. But you really can’t expect people to learn during their holidays and not forget what has been taught. And if you say that the very reason the ‘H’ thing exists is because the teachers in schools– oh! Here I said it again – thinks that we may forget what we have learnt, I think instead we can do a recap of everything once school re-opens and it’s just a matter of recollection. I still don’t believe the ‘H’ thing is a solution.

Well, that’s my point, but I don’t think this is of any use because it is not gonna help me from getting away with my present homework (I don’t care about swearing). So I think I gotta get going, and do my Maths, English, Geo, Science and so on. And oh yes, I must share this on my blog. Can’t believe school is opening tomorrow.

[Splutters]

[Sighs]

And I will keep singing this piece of poem – that I recited when I was in 3^rd grade in front of my teacher and admitted honestly that I meant every word of it and got a minus mark for that – till it sinks in me that it is all a part of being in school and every adult must have gone through this, just like Mr. P (still can’t get his name right)!