Monday, 25 July 2016

Hogwarts in Kolkata!

This blogpost is an entry to the Blogging contest, a part of the book launch of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, in association with Kolkata Bloggers.

Mishti dozed off half-way through reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, an early present that she’d received just before her eleventh birthday. “This is so magical!” she sighed as her eyes drew to a close. “I wish I studied at Hogwarts.”

The next morning, she had to go for her dreaded Math tuition-classes. It was early and the usually crowded area of Chowringhee was yet to start bustling with activity. Realizing that she had a good twenty minutes to kill and with no desire to go early for class, Mishti entered a dilapidated antique-store whose door was open. No one was around. Mishti marvelled at some wonderfully-carved wooden tables. Suddenly she saw an ancient, ornate mirror lying in a corner. It had clawed feet, and a golden frame that was inscribed with the phrase,"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

“What do you see in the mirror?” boomed a voice behind her.
Mishti jumped and saw a tall, thin, old man standing. He wore a purple Panjabi with dhuti.

When Mishti looked in the mirror, it was not her reflection she saw. “I see…” she hesitated.
“Go on,” encouraged the man.
“I see that I’ve received a letter stating that I’ve been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

The man’s face broke into a smile. “This mirror shows not the reality but your heart’s deepest desire. However, I have the power to make your wish come true!”
“How?” asked Mishti in wonder.
“My name is Abhi Dasgupta,” said the old man. “I studied at Hogwarts and was Headmaster there. These days, we seem to have a lot of promising witches and wizards from Kolkata, so we’re setting up a school of magic here. You are going to be one of its first pupils!” he informed her.

Mishti could not believe her ears. “You mean Harry Potter exists?” she exclaimed.
“Yes, my child,” Mr. Dasgupta chuckled. “He will be your Defence against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Mr. Dasgupta handed her a letter, and before Mishti could say another word, he was gone in the blink of an eye. Mishti forgot all about Math class and ran home to her parents. Her parents were Potter-fans too and could not believe what Mishti said to them. They read the letter and rushed to purchase the items Mishti’d need for school: books from Oxford Book-Store in Park Street; some fresh parchments from a shop in College Street, robes from Rahman’s Store in New Market; and who’d have known that the handicraft emporium at Dakshinapan even stocked wands and broom-sticks!

“I hope all this is real!” voiced Mishti. “I hope it’s not happening inside my head.”

“My dear child,” said her mother. “Even if it’s happening inside your head, why should it mean that it’s not real?”
Mishti went to bed that night feeling extremely excited. The next morning she woke up and saw the letter lying on her bed-side table. “It wasn’t a dream! I'm the Chosen One!” she jumped with joy.
Finally, the day came when Mishti, escorted by her parents, arrived at Sealdah Station and headed for the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. She was ready to board the train from Sealdah Platform 9¾ which would take her to the Hogwarts School in Kolkata. It was just the beginning of her journey, but she was sure it was going to be the most memorable experience of her life. 


  1. This is so real and beautiful. Just exactly what every pottergirl ever wished.

    1. Thanks! I understand what you're saying! After I read the books, I hoped against hope that I'd get a letter someday telling me I'm a witch! *sigh*

  2. That is an interesting and eerie tale! I have lived in Calcutta and could nostalgically relate to the places.But what creepily surprised me most is the platform number at Sealdah.
    I like your narration.

  3. Nicely written! I might just wander into some antique stores and hope this happens. :P

    1. :-) When it does, please drop by and tell me which store it was! I'll follow suit!