Being a language enthusiast and a Potterhead at the same time, I’ve decided to make a list of vocabulary you may need if you want to read, watch or maybe just talk about Harry Potter in Spanish.

la bruja - witch
el mago - wizard
la varita - wand
la escoba - broom
la lechuza - owl
la rana - frog
el sapo - toad
el león - lion
el tejón - badger
la serpiente - snake
el águila - eagle
el hechizo/el encantamiento - spell
la poción - potion
el caldero - cauldron
el castillo - castle
el comedor - dining room
los calabozos/las mazmorras - dungeons
el andén - platform (el andén nueve y tres cuartos)
el callejón - alley (el Callejón Diagon)
la hierba - herb
el dragón - dragon
el unicornio - unicorn
el fénix - phoenix
el fantasma - ghost
la capa - cloak
el profeta - prophet
el Buscador - Seeker
el Cazador - Chaser (hunter)
el Guardián - Keeper
el Bateador - Beater (batsman) 

Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal - Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s/Sorcerer’s Stone
Harry Potter y la cámara secreta - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Harry Potter y el prisionero de Azkaban - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Harry Potter y el cáliz de fuego - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Harry Potter y la Orden del Fénix - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Harry Potter y el misterio del príncipe - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Harry Potter y las Reliquias de la Muerte - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

DAY 3344

Jalsa, Mumbai                  May 24,  2017                 Wed 8:26 PM

I am but a slave of the Ef .. they dexterously and at times with their mental adroitness, which in portion is really the same worth in an English Dictionary, insist famously my hours of work and the paucity of rest .. 

Paying heed to such adamant demands from them, here we are at an abominable hour - yes abominable - because the ‘upper story’ has still not acclimatised itself to drafting thoughts so early in the night - penning down, without pen and ink, the Blog for the day ..

And why pray such intent ..?

There is a certain gentleman that has been the voice and choice of every Indian the world over, in his field, holding a screening of his film called ‘SACHIN’, and it will be an honour to be in his company and in his life through the film now on projection ..

The hour shall be late .. the morning call shall be early and the rest shall be limited if the procedure followed now shall be waited upon by the night after the film ..

A man that has struck a chord with not just every Indian, but indeed every Cricket playing nation in the world .. his glory has been the subject of inspiration and pride for us all in India .. for one that was put against the finest in the world at an age when you and I were still struggling to be able to stand on our feet effectively .. to not just stand with the greatest, but to implant in them the strength of his immense talent and skill, is not a historic moment, but one that moments’ history .. 

His command of the game is of course beyond all doubt .. but what has ever surprised me is his great understanding of the game of cricket ..

I had the good fortune to be in a cricket stadium, where both he and I watched a match between India and Pakistan in the famous Eden Gardens, Kolkata .. his predictions and his advice on the game every few minutes - where the next ball would be bowled, how the batsman would play what stroke, why the field set was wrong and why it was right.. and eventually his prediction of where the game was going, was simply unimaginable .. it was godlike .. !!

His simplicity and his humility are observed and have been observed a million times .. but to be the recipient of some of those moments, is truly a cherished desire of a lifetime .. 

I am honoured to know him .. but I am immensely humbled that he knows me !

Amitabh Bachchan

Baseball has perhaps more traditions than any other sport known to man. I began my own tradition 22 years ago when I read this poem to my 10-month-old daughter on Opening Day. I have read this poem to my kids every Opening Day since.

This poem was first published in the San Francisco Examiner on June 3rd, 1888.

Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Thayer

The Outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We’d put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey’s getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile on Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ‘twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one,” the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they’d a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, “Strike two.”

“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

Alright, was tagged by my friend @dustinbrowns to post a selfie so just took one. Please ignore my face, thanks. I’ll tag @curlyfrycarrick @stepmom @one-of-a-kreids and @veseyz plus whoever else wants to post a selfie! (Y'all don’t have to do it!!)

DAY 3333

Jalsa, Mumbai                  May 13/14,  2017                Sat/Sun 1:28 am

An errant lad this creator of the Blog .. lethargic in his attendance and in his outputs of the written word .. compelling the Ef to wonder why they must continue to be where they ought to be ..

So .. since apologies are unaccepted by they that give this platform the dignity and visibility of its existence, I shall seek none ..

Instead I wish to complete what perhaps could have looked like an incomplete attendance at class .. 

The IPL T20 Extra Innings interview .. sudden and honoured to be in the company of the great Sunil Gavaskar, one with whom there now exists a long and memorable association .. 

The first meeting in London, where they came as the India Team and were invited for dinner at Jaya’s Uncle’s home who worked with the BBC, and the subsequent ride in a friend’s sports car stuffed with the mighty talents of cricket at the time - 1973 - in a 2 seater, dropping them off at their Hotel .. to the wedding invite for his sister’s wedding to the dynamic Vishvanath at Shivaji Park and so many years of not forgetting each others birthday to date ..

Kapil Dev and Madan after their incredible victory in the 1983 World Cup .. my concert tour of the UK and USA, and inviting Kapil and Madan to the stage at Wembley and the roar of the audience when they appeared .. truly a recognition most deserving ..

Those very early years of University and Sherwood and the desire to see a live cricket match .. it was in Delhi, and yes at the Ferozshah Kotla ground, then not even remotely looking like the spanking stadium it is now .. a India Pakistan match and the likes of Fazal Mehmood, the green eyed handsome pace bowler, who had in an earlier contest in England bowled so superbly that the British media termed it with a headline - ‘England Fuzzled out’ - a pun on the first name of Fazal Mehmood .. that game with the likes of another great from Pakistan, Hanif Mohammed .. and the Captain of the day Polly Umrigar, putting on our own bowling sensation Ramakant Desai as soon a Hanif came to bat, for, if there was one person that Hanif was uncomfortable to face it was Ramakant Desai !! and yes he bowled him out on that day too ..

The West Indies stalwarts that came over during that time .. the massive bowling and batting giants - Hall, Griffith, Kanhai and many others .. the pace attack bowlers so aggressive and frighteningly fast that as they would start their run up it seemed as they would blow someone’s head off .. indeed they did .. of Nari Contractor our Captain .. that wonderful story of an opposing batsman coming in to bat, crossing the boundary line to enter the field to bat, finding one of those bowling West Indian greats, that had immensely long run ups, standing near the boundary line almost, ready to take the start of his over, and the new batsman entering the field going past him and wondering why he was standing there, so far away from his bowling wicket and the response from the bowler -

“ You shall soon find out “  … !! 

hehahaaah .. the bowlers run up used to start from a few minuscule feet away from the boundary line …

And then of course some other great thereafter - Chandu Borde, and Eknath Solkar and his prowess as the close in fielder .. Manjrekar and Ramchand and even before them the V’s - Vinu Mankad, Vijay Hazare, Vijay Merchant .. and the autographs sent to me by my Father from England, where he had gone to do his PhD in English Literature and the Indian community traditionally being invited at Buckingham Palace for an At Home .. the cricket team along with my Father being guests and my Father seeking the autograph of the players  ..

Those friendly charity cricket matches that the film industry played with the Indian Team .. that moment when I was bowling and the Umpire guiding me by telly me to bowl over the wicket and shorter .. and I looking at him with some dismay, as to why he was guiding me and me not liking being told like so .. and on disclosing my displeasure to another team member, he telling me off with :

“You absolute idiot .. that Umpire is the great Vinu Mankad “ ! and me not knowing where to hide my face from this spin bowling giant, Mr Mankad ..

Ahh .. the memory goes on for years and years .. right down to present times and Sachin and MS Dhoni and all the younger players that exhibit such tremendous energy and skills on the pitch .. MS Dhoni walking on to the set of ‘BaghBaan’ while I was shooting and all of us in absolute awe of the man ..

Hmmm .. the tales shall continue ..

Mother’s Day and other appointments with WHO .. and so much more .. later

Amitabh Bachchan

Dancing with the Devil in Pale Moonlight (Joker x reader) Part 1

“He has already escaped once, this time around, he will be placed under maximum security.” (Y/n) said, assuring Commissioner Gordon.

“Yes commissioner, he will be getting the best care under Dr Lee.” (Y/n)’s boss, Xavier said. (Y/n) had been working at Arkham Asylum for more than two years now, and currently she was the assistant of the officer in command, Xavier. Joker had been caught and was to be transferred to Arkham today, to receive mental treatment.

“I trust you, Xavier.” Commissioner Gordon smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

“Thanks you, (y/n) and I have some things to check on, please excuse us.” Xavier said, excusing both of them. (Y/n) hurriedly followed him. A meeting had been organised, with the best security guards in the country. Xavier addressed them all, warning them about the Joker’s crude behaviour and his ability to mentally and emotionally break anyone. The meeting ended after a few more briefings and (y/n) made her way to the office.

As she was walking, the Joker was being brought in, she walked on the opposite side of the hallway as tight security escorted Joker. His hands were cuffed, the chain was also linked to his feet, he was wearing his trademark purple suit. The Joker looked up at her, his signature smirk on his face. His dark eyes bored into her’s, looking into her soul. The eye contact sent shivers down (y/n)’s spine as she tried to look away, but there was something there, perhaps an invisible force, forcing her to keep eye contact. It seemed that everything around them had slowed down before the Joker’s tongue licked his lips. She came back to her senses and hurried down the hallway. The sound of her heels echoed throughout the corridor as the Joker couldn’t help but smirk as the guards pushed him further along.

What was I thinking? She scolded herself as she carried on with her work, which mainly consisted of fetching coffee for Xavier. After a long gruelling day, she went home.

1 week later

(Y/n) sighed as she walked to work, and to put it a nice way, she was dreading it. Through the past week, the Joker had managed to cause three of the best physiologists at Arkham to lose their mental stability and today, Xavier himself was going in. (Y/n) was worried, heck worried wasn’t even the right word to describe her state. Xavier was like an older sibling she never had, he harboured a brotherly type of love towards her and she appreciated it. She knocked on the door to Xavier’s cabin and he replied with a faint ‘come in’.

“Oh (y/n), I don’t have much time, I have to get going.” He smiled.

“Be careful, I can’t lose you too.” She mumbled. Xavier pulled her into a hug, patting her head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, he can’t harm me.” He smiled. (Y/n) nodded and asked if she could accompany him downstairs to his cell but Xavier refused outright, claiming that 'he can’t have her around that insane freak.’ She wished him luck and left his cabin, and continued to type up the report he had given her, however, the fear of the Joker harming Xavier kept bugging her.

She finished her work and began to head out for lunch, grabbing her wallet and phone, and made her way downstairs. Suddenly, the security alarm stated to sound.

'Shit, Xavier!’ She thought, ignoring the safety plan instructions, she ran, down to the prison cells. Security guards were also rushing in, one of the grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. She forced her wrist out of his hand continued forward.

“Xavier!” She called out, reaching Joker’s cell, which had been blown to bits. Her eyes fell on a limp in figure in the corner of the room. Her eyes widened, realising it was Xavier.

“Xavier!” She screamed, avoiding the debris and making her way over, kneeling down next to him. She grabbed his wrist, feeling a faint pulse.

“Xavier, come on, come on, wake up.” She begged, rubbing his hands.

“Look at what we have here!” Came a high, menacing voice. (Y/n) turned around to meet a pair of dark eyes. She was frozen with fear, her brain was screaming at her to move, but her body refused to listen. The Joker advanced towards her, smiling. He hunched down, his face at the level of hers.

“Love, makes you do weird things doesn’t it, doll?” He asked, inching closer to her. (Y/n) could feel his warm breath on her face and inched backwards.

“Don’t be afraid now doll.” He said, grab in her arm, pulling her up, as he stood up straight. His touch was warm, no, hot, it felt as if his touch was burning her bare arm.

“Let me go!” (Y/n) yelled, finally coming back to her sense, and tried to pull away.

“Oh no, you can’t get away, your my free ticket from here!” He laughed, pulling her forward, pressing her up against his body. (Y/n) struggled against him, kicking his shin with her heel. The Joker hissed, before pulling a knife out of the pocket of his orange uniform. For a split second, he let her arm go, before twisting it around and pressing her back against him. His arm around her neck.

“Oh sweet checks, don’t do it again.” He threatened, caressing her face with the knife as his lips brushed against her neck. (Y/n)’s widened, if she had ever feared something, it was knives.

“If you cooperate, you’ll live.” He said, pushing her forward as he walked. (Y/n)’s eyes fell on Xavier’s lifeless body as tears came out. They finally reached the end of the prison cells and were surrounded by two security guards that hadn’t been murdered yet, Joker’s grip on her tightened.

“What a pleasant surprise!” He laughed. (Y/n) shook her head, indicating for them to not fire.

“We’d love to hang around and talk but I’m afraid me and my doll have to get somewhere!” He laughed again, pushing the knife against (y/n)’s throat. The security guards didn’t back away, they advanced towards Joker and (y/n), with their guns loaded. Before anyone could do anything, a small red ball rolled on the ground towards the two guards, Joker pulled (y/n) and himself back,before it exploded, killing them on the spot.

“Please, let me go.” (Y/n) begged, as she struggled under his grip.

“And what fun will that be?” He asked, mocking her tone. Joker began to walk, pulling her along with one arm, the knife in the other. They existed the building and there was a white van waiting at the front. A man, not much older than (y/n) herself walked out of the drivers seat. He had dark hair, and blue eyes, and looked awfully familiar. (Y/n) tried to remember where she had seen him but her memory failed her.

“Boss, everything is ready.” He spoke.

“Ahh, the grand finale!” He laughed.

“Until we meet again doll!” He smiled, turning (y/n) around and placed a kiss on her forehead. Her body automatically tensed up. He grabbed the gun off the other guy and smashed the end of it against her head. He let go of her as she fell to the floor, clutching her head in her hands. A hot, painful feeling overtook (y/n) as she could see stars in daylight, a searing pain shot through her head as her vision began to leave her with the Joker’s menacing laugh echoing through her ears.
2 weeks later.

The Joker laughed as he ran, Batman following hot on his trail. He turned around and grinned at him, before throwing a very familiar red ball which exploded as it made contact with him. A cloud of smoke surrounded Barman.

“Goodbye bats!” He called out, before jumping into an apartment building through an open window. He carefully landed inside, closing the window behind him. He started to make his way outside the apartment he was in but stopped in his tracks when he heard cries and whimpers coming in from the room opposite to where he was standing. Pulling out his knife, he made his way towards the room. Gently opening the door, he found a young woman, not much younger than him, tossing and turning, mumbling and crying. The Joker grinned, advancing forward. Her dark hair covered her face but he was sure, he had seen her before, he didn’t realise it was (y/n). Suddenly, she let out a scream and jolted awake, her breathing heavy and sweat on her forehead despite the cool weather. The Joker quickly leaned behind the door in darkness.

It had been another nightmare, memories of the Arkham breakout still haunted her. Her fingers subconsciously went up to trace the scar (thanks to the Joker) on her forehead. She tore the covers away from her and got up, making her way to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of water and gulped it all down, trying to calm herself. She hesitantly made her way back to her bed, as soon as her eyes fell on her bed, her body stopped in its tracks.

There he lay, in her bed, not without a care in the world. He looked at her, giving her the same smirk that had been haunting her. He held a knife in his right hand, using the other to support his head.

“We.” He smiled, getting up from the bed.

“Meet.” He said, coming forward. (Y/n) started to walk backwards, doing her best to keep distance.

“Again!” He began to laugh as he kept on advancing forward, eyeing (y/n) like a lion eyeing its prey. Her back knocked against the wall, her escape wasn’t going to be easy. The Joker came forward, pinning her to the wall, his gloved hand tracing her jaw.

“My, my, you’ve grown more beautiful.” He remarked, taking in her messy hair, the faint blush on her cheeks and her somewhat seductive outfit.

“What do you want?” She stuttered, failing to sound confident.

“Oh doll,” he said, leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers.

“I ne-” before he could finish, a third person had entered the apartment. (Y/n)’s eyes darted over to him. There stood Gotham’s hero.

“Let her go Joker.” He said, his voice deep and rough.

“Let her go?” He began to laugh, hysterically.

“I plan on keeping her with for longer.” He said, placing the knife against her throat, causing Batman to stop in his tracks.

“Joker, this is between you and me, leave her out of this!” Batsman yelled.

“Oh, she was there, much before you!” He replied, pulling her closer.

“Now, if you want sweet cheeks here to life then I suggest you leave.” Joker said, his voice much more serious than before.

“Joker let her go!” He yelled again. Faint sirens could be heard and (y/n)’s hopes went up. But came crashing down as the edge of the knife began to dig into her neck, drawing blood. Fear took over her body and she froze, her eyes darting out of their sockets.

“See, sweets here is afraid of knives.” He laughed, pulling her further into his chest, resting his head on her shoulder. His warm breath tickled her bare neck, goosebumps began to form on her skin.

“Please.” She mouthed to Batman, feeling totally helpless. Batman knew it wasn’t worth losing another life to the Joker.

“I’ll let you leave, but you’ll leave her alone.” Batman said, attempting to strike a deal with him.

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” He laughed, walking backwards, and pulling (y/n) as she was in front of him. He existed the apartment and went down the elevator, the sirens were fast approaching. A very familiar white van was parked downstairs and the Joker pushed her into it. (Y/n) hissed in pain as her head hit the end of the seat, her scar began to kill.

“Oh darling, I’m sorry!” The Joker said, leaning down and examining her forehead.

“My mark makes you look even more beautiful!” He exclaimed, tracing the scar with his thumb, occasionally pressing down on it, causing (y/n) to whimper out of pain; since he still had the knife in his hands, she could not do anything.

“Well, goodnight!” He smiled, before grabbing a needle and injecting it into her arm. (Y/n)’s vision become blurry as she began to feel dizzy. A loud thump was heard as her limp body fell on to the floor.

anonymous asked:

Just an FYI the Dick Grayson change isn't canon - it's an elseworlds spin-off that DC does where it's a contained story. They've done similar things in the past with making heroes villains in an alternate universe (e.g. Superman in communist Russia, batsman as a literal vampire, Wonder Woman and aquaman at war, etc.)

It’s still f**ked up that they would pick a Romani character to enact a genocidal campaign with imagery tied heavily to Nazis.

Please stop trying to down play this. Even if it flops, the fact that anyone thought it was a good idea is abhorrent.