What makes Harry Potter a Hero?

When it comes to movies, popular TV shows and even best-selling novels, knobbly knees and a scar on the protaginist's forehead is what rarely marks the prominent physical feature of the "hero". Usually, you would get to see a tall, James-Bond look alike with a personality that bespokes confidence, high self esteem (sometimes even more than needed), a strut that pulls the audience to the edge of their seat trying to wonder what the scene is about to unfold next and a voice that is so like music to your ears that your mind often ignores the lyrics.

But, for anyone who has read Harry Potter and well there are many of those, believe me! They will know that this is not what makes Harry Potter a hero. In fact, if he was in your school right now you would be considered a loser if you take as much as a second glance at him (for that's exactly how high schools work). At the outset, Harry Potter is just an average kid (Yes, I actually said that) with an unimpressionable height and a broomstick with a very fancy name.

However, what makes millions of people around the globe scramble to book stores and throng cineplexes whenever Harry Potter books and movies come out is something that goes beyond the depth of Harry's skin. For them, Harry is a hero because he is relatable. Sure, he talks to snakes, looks at moving pictures and doesn't flinch, flies in the air only to dive later to catch the Snitch, loses his bones and regains them through Skele-Gro (Trust me, you don't want details) and does a lot of other things that (let's get real guys) we don't.

But despite all the fantasy that revolves around Harry's life there are a lot of things that are very much real. Dudley, the bully, Ron, the over-awed best friend, Snape, the discriminating professor, Dumbledore, the voice of reason outside your family, Cho, the girl he can never work it out with, Dobby, who causes more harm than good while meaning well - these are all real life characters. They are all around us at every point in time. And despite how intertwined with fantasy Harry's life is, it is the reality that sucks you in. It is the reality in the books that makes you feel for him for you have been there and done that (well, almost). It is the reality which makes you want to scream on top of your lungs to whoever will listen that Harry Potter belongs in the Non Fiction section.

And it is the reality which makes Harry Potter a hero.

The independent feeling

I remember a time when the decisions I made were overshadowed by what other people thought of them, when what I believed in was conveniently put away in order to make way for something else, when the things that were in my priority list took a back seat as they definitely weren't an urgent concern for the authority. For me, this was a time when it took much more than confidence to be myself. It required endless hours on my part to seek approval. Even though I was very much an individual with ideas and opinions that were unique to my self but when it came to living the life I wanted I was chained by things that had nothing to do with who I was or what I wanted to be.

When we talk about 14th August, it is just another day for the entire human population existent in the world. But mention it to a Pakistani and he would tell you at great lengths how the importance of the rest of the calendar pales in comparison to this day. For Pakistanis, it is a day when all the divisions and the differences between people are set aside (and that's saying something!) so that all of them can come together to celebrate - independence.

Sure, today is hardly a time when Pakistan can expect to receive a gold star for its performance by the world at large. Everyone continues to regard it as a failing state while magazines upon magazines publish articles talking about how Pakistan is a danger and a parasite. People talk about leaving Pakistan on a daily basis and it is thought that the country has bit on things more than it can chew. It is hurtful to hear such things about your country but that's not enough to stop the practice.

However, Pakistan has given its people the freedom to be - the way they are. The way they probably won't be accepted as openly in other parts of the world. Without succumbing to slavery and mockery. The very being of the country has allowed the people to respect and preserve their culture. It has been a motherland to billions of Pakistanis who would be clueless and without identities if it were not for the existence of Pakistan. The people here don't wake up thinking that they have to be someone they are not in order to progress. They can feel at home while practising their beliefs, cheering for their cricket team, dressing and talking in a way that defines them and doesn't feel foreign to their nature. 

And that feeling is what you get when you know you are independent. For me, it was a matter of giving a few interviews and getting a job. And the days where I had to ask before making decisions about my own life were over. I was free. To do what I wanted and to make the mistakes that I was destined to make. And all that didn't make me less successful a human being. But it made me who I am today. Very much myself in my own right.

However, for Pakistan getting here took a war and then a lot of other ones. It had to constantly remind the world of what it stood for and the reason for its being. It had to repeatedly prove its mettle only to be recognized as a dot on the world map. People on both sides of the border sacrificed more than just money because they believed in the existence of Pakistan. Because they believed in freedom.

If it was an ideal world I would say that today that's all Pakistan needs. A strong belief in the country and what it stands for. But by doing that I will be sugar coating things and grossly misrepresenting the picture that Pakistan presents. Today, it takes more courage to take pride in Pakistan than it takes to fight a war. The failings of the country have been magnified and highlighted and magnified and highlighted for the entire world to see. Even a penguin living in a totally different time zone can tell what's wrong with Pakistan.

But it's only the Pakistanis that can tell the world what is right. Today, Pakistan needs much more than just mere belief and faith. It needs actions and results. It needs a strategy and effective implementation. It needs, nay it deserves nothing less than anything hardcore. We as a nation need to celebrate the independence of Pakistan and not the fact that it continues to survive despite its failings. What we as the youth of Pakistan need to realize is that the party is over and the work has just begun.

So on this indepedence day, ask yourself this: Are you game enough to be a Pakistani?

Who? Me?

Today, well not exactly today I guess I can never start my work without procrastinating at least a little bit, when our teacher for the course called Idea Development asked us to maintain a journal, my immediate thought was that it'd be an extremely easy thing to do, what with my past experience of working as a freelance writer and more importantly writing being one of the few things that made me feel like I could make a difference. However, my relief and smugness was cut short soon enough when he furthered about how we'd expected to write about who we think we are, and where are we coming from... "Serious shit" he called it.

Serious shit indeed. And when you actually got down to writing about it, whoa there's no right way to begin is there? But that's one of the thing that makes me enjoy a love and hate relationship with writing. In fact, it is one of the "beauties" of writing if I may add. You could start writing from where the story ends, have multiple flashbacks, decide it's only a dream when it's only starting to make sense or have no beginning or end altogether, just clusters and clusters of random thoughts intervowen together in a stream of words to make it appear as they ought to make sense to the reader. And even though you might have guessed to which category does this blog post belong to, just stick for a little bit longer if you have read till here.

To actually get down to business, I have always been an implusive person. Very impulsive. And it's very easy to steer me even though my dad would like to believe otherwise. Just tell me something that I cannot do. Or even better, shouldn't do. And I'd go do exactly that. That's the trick. The only trick.  When I was in O levels, giving the final bunch of papers, my mom came up to me and said "You can't take commerce and science subjects together" and voila, I had registered for all the subjects my school was ready to offer at the time, both science and commerce and otherwise. While preparing for my A levels, all the tutors that I had kept saying that I can't do it in a year - that I should take my time with it and indeed, the very next day, I had registered for my AS and A2 papers altogether for the same year. In ACCA ... ah well, you get the drift.

Later on, however, I began to realize that I wanted to do things for me. Not because someone said that I cannot do them. This does not mean that I stopped being who I was earlier. I just sort of learnt to combine the two. Call it Media Science, Arts, Journalism, Music, or whatever, this was something I had been yearning for all my life. To find out who I am or to at least know that I am trying to was the feeling that I had wanted to experience. Working 9 to 5 provided me with ample opportunities to buy lots of shoes but left me with a sense of direction and meaning that was hazy at best.

I'd come home feeling disillusioned and distraught with a heavy sense of feeling that something is wrong. My mom, my sole confidante at the time failed to realize how could I be sad when I was so "financially empowered". The thing was even I didn't know what I was missing because I had never experienced what was it like to have what I wanted before. I had never earlier tried to be in sync with what I was feeling or tried to give it a medium of expression. It was something that was only confined to a few words here and there that would get published in Young Times but elsewhere, they were non existent.

It was 25th April, 2010 - exactly a year after I had started working at a semi-governmental organization as basically a content manager. I sat there working at my desk. I was writing a press release for the event that was about to happen two days later. And I was writing about how it went. That's how press releases normally work - something which had surprised me when I was told what was to be done. Anyways, my co worker sat across me munching biscuits and having tea (not to imply that I was the only employee that worked in the organization) and asked "So what are you going to do after your ACCA?"

I replied "CFA I guess. Though sometimes I wish I had the time to do a full fledged program on Journalism."

She shots me a disbelieving look and laughing slightly says "Yeah... but you can't leave your job to do that!"

This is my story, albeit badly written. This is how I got here.