Art of Living, Guruji, Harry Potter, Hermione, Ron
They set their path rambling on the coincidence boulevard,
A new beginning, they were off trekking on a treacherous street.
With neither wearing a demurely look,
Living on the edge, they laughed on the jokes so obsolete.
The absolute opposites, swayed by their own whim,
An alienated bond, it looked like a written farce.
Rash by nature, surrounded by a dowdy aura,
Holding on to refuge, from heart to head, shivering on and chasing cars.
Often through delivered ointments, to the ridge they reached,
Galloping through darkness, it seemed like a deed out of utter creed.
But they were Ron and Hermione, and naturally, there had to be melancholy,
Alacritous abandonments, on opposite fronts they began to breed.
He was brave, caring, gullible and sloppy,
Waiving his flag, he stood tall, smiling and wearing his fedora.
She was intelligent, choosy, courageous and short-sighted,
Opting for fun, neglecting her mate, she lived in the island of Pandora.
The returned Voldermot blocked his gullet,
Fed on oxygen, battling for survival, in Dumbledore he believed.
She always called him a friend and this was her real test,
Not even bothering, failing miserably, she laughed as Ron felt aggrieved.
Blessed by the master, who defeated ‘the one who must not be named’,
He felt touched by the hand of God, rescued from heir, bursting out alive.
As he came to terms with the truth of Hermione’s ‘fun’ priority over her ‘so-called friend’s’ being,
He set his way on a promenade, realizing that camaraderie was an effort too jive.
Donning Harry’s invisibility cloak,
With no strings attached, Ron smiled and wished for Hermione to have a perfect time.
They still stand on opposite fronts as a primordial silver lining appears to be drawn,
Maybe they are history, maybe they are not, but rest assured, somewhere in their respective heart-ora, as friends, in rhythm and rhyme, they still dine.
- Kratik Malhotra
- Kratik Malhotra