In terms of the college process, I’d say things worked out pretty well for me. I’m pumped to be here and I’m enjoying every second of my life at Brown. But sometimes, in the dead of night, I think of what could have been—and maybe what should have been.
I experienced only one colossal school rejection that had at the time left me both reeling and punch-drunk. It hurt then and it still hurts now. It’s been hurting for so long that I’ve gone numb to it.
I was rejected from Hogwarts.
The sudden memory of that failure, of running to the postbox and seeing it empty on my eleventh birthday, floored me. The more I tried to forget, the harder it was to stop thinking about it. Even here at Brown, it affected me. I couldn’t go to class. I couldn’t do work. I missed Chicken Finger Friday.
But not anymore. Today, I’m not going to be the one failing. Today, to facilitate my healing process, I’m writing an open, heartfelt letter to Hogwarts.
Dear Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
You might remember me. I’m the one you left hanging.
I just want you to know that I’m having a great time in the Muggle world, because it’s a much better place than freaking Hogwarts.
See, our brooms do this really cool thing, where they actually clean the floor. I don’t know what good yours do up in the air, but you ought to make them do their jobs. I’m just saying, Hogwarts is probably a really unhygienic sort of place right now. Maybe put those brooms to work and make the switch to flying Swiffer Sweepers instead.
It’s really great in the Muggle world. We’ve got forests full of pretty things like flowers and squirrels, and not big-ass spiders. We’re smart enough to relegate those things to a horrid place far from all meaningful civilization, Australia. The closest I come to death on a typical day is after eating too many Blue Room muffins. Or opening a math textbook. But I would choose the quadratic formula any day over vicious three-headed dogs, squat toad-women with pink bows, and basilisks.
Okay, actually, I’d take the dog and Umbridge instead of Calculus, but can you imagine the basilisk taking a wrong turn in the pipes and just randomly popping it’s head out of one of the girls’ room toilets? Screw your snakes. And your lack of gender-neutral bathrooms, you monsters.
I probably wouldn’t enjoy it at Hogwarts anyway. The Sorting Hat puts all the good guys in Gryffindor and the mean-looking ones in Slytherin. I’m certain it would take one look at my resting bitch face and boot me off to the snake charmers.
Also, have you realized that owls make really terrible mailmen? We’ve got this cool thing here that can deliver messages without getting distracted by rats or weather, called email. It’s literally so easy for a live animal to lose mail. This may have happened numerous times. Possibly with a letter addressed to a prospective student named Purvi Goel. Please check your records.
Yours insincerely,
Purvi Goel
P.S. I have my wand and broomstick ready if you want me.
Image via.
I hope you get an owl reply 🙂