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Topics - Asvarya Chadha

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Character Classifieds / Chadha Family ✾❁✾
« on: 23/03/2021 at 05:20 »
Chadha Family❁
"There is NO ROOT that has no medicinal value.
 There is NO PERSON who does not have

 But RARE is that human being who knows
pureblood, but NOT purist

The Chadha family are a family who run moderately successful potions & supply import business. Their extended family and network run different aspects of business across procurement, transport, brewing, and sale.

The front end of their business thrives at their Diagon Alley shop which is managed by third son Mridul Chadha and his industrious wife, Sanjana.


Though the Chadha's shop has not been in business in Diagon since the fifteenth century like some other more ubiquitous establishments, with the expansion of the family import & export business, it is at least very competitively stocked.

Many wizards who made their own potions are often particular about where they purchase their supplies. The family's store boasts of some quite unique variations of many common and uncommon items. Vibrant powders are piled in neatly sculpted pyramids rising from rolled down coarse sacks. On the shelves, orderly rows of vials and jars hold preserved and pickled specimens. Other drawers store packets of hairs and feathers and features alongside wrapped parcels of desiccated organs with tidy labels identifying the contents.

Of course, there are those who prefer to purchase ready-made potions, and the family provides a selection of these as well-- from the Miraculous Cookery Solvent, Exuberance skin cremes, Blemish Blitzer, Sampson's Manegro, to a potent muffling draught. There are a few regulars who stopped by infrequently and others with practically the predictability of the mechanism of a pocketwatch.


The Brothers

While much is expected of the two Chadha sons,
despite any nagging or expressed disappointment from their mother, the eldest twin sons are allowed much leeway.

fc: Adarsh Jaikarran [agency]

Born: between 1946 - 47 (fraternal twin)
fc: Zo Ahmed

Born: between 1946 - 47 (fraternal twin)
Aamir “cultivated”
Ajay “unconquerable”
Akarsh “striking”
Arjun “clear”
Aryav “noble”
Dharun “upholding”
Dhyan “reflection”
Emraan “prosperity”
Hari “joy”
Hashan “laugher”
Jayesh “a victor”
Karan “clever”
Navin “new”
Praiv “brave”
Raavi “brilliant”
Rahul “efficient”
Ravindar “sun-like”
Rakesh "lord of the full moon”
Rivaan “ambitious”
Riyyan “little king”
Samar “darkness of night”
Sharav “innocent”
Siddhan “accomplished”
Sujan “honest”
Varun “intelligent”
Vihaan “morning”
Viraj “resplendent”

fc: Monalisha Mahapatra [insta]

Born: April 22, 1948
The Eldest Sister  dīdī


Gryffindor (fifth year)

Student Application

The eldest daughter, Asvarya is no shrinking violet. She takes her responsibilities and the expectations of her parents quite seriously (usually). This extends from her schoolwork to her interest in fashion.

Her siblings can find her a bit of a know-it-all, but the complaints aren't all too serious when there is the offer of a taste of home involved.

The Youngest Sister 
chōṭī bahana

As the youngest Chadha child, she has had the benefit of her elder siblings' example, spoils, and trials to learn from. However, that is not to say that she does not have her own trails to forge on her own.

Amita “immortal”
Anandi “bliss”
Aysha “prosperous”
Chaitali “blessed with a good memory”
Ishani “ruling”
Meena “jewel”
Mira “delightful”
Miraan “a princess”
Nafisa “delicate”
Navika “fresh”
Rajani “dark one”
Rani “queen”
Rupali “most beautiful”
Sadhika “go-getter”
Zaara “luminous”
fc: Ravyanshi Mehta [insta]

Born: between 1951 - 52

Please send a PM to Asvarya Chadha

Archived Applications / Asvarya Chadha
« on: 24/12/2020 at 21:53 »

Application for Hogwarts School


Name: Asvarya Chadha

Birthday: April 22, 1946

Hometown: Liverpool, England

Bloodline: Pureblood

Magical Strength: Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness: Divination

Year (pick two): fourth, third

The house was close to bursting with the kaleidoscope of aromas from the preparations which were soon nearing its' apogee. Each new scent was the result of hours of work, the singular alchemy of spice and heat. Asvarya herself had been up since dawn-- chopping, measuring, stirring. Outside the broad windows of her auntee's kitchen, the sun leisurely rose as five generations of women toiled over the myriad of pots simmering into hissing fires and glowing ovens casting a reddish glow across inflating bread. A great-aunt clucked at and shooed a trio of desperate totting cousins too young to be responsible for a contributing task but old enough for their mouths to water for an early taste of the anticipated meal. In the other room, uncles and other male cousins shunned from the kitchen drank fresh chai while muttering over newspapers or intently bent over fashioning kites to chase after later.

Marking the transit of the sun, it was time to celebrate the harvest (although frigid January in England seemed all the more a contrast from the milder equivalent in India) and the coming winter’s end.

Asva gripped the handle of her large frying pan, watching the melted jaggery bubble.  Almost.

“Okay add it-- slowly… slowly!!” she chided with her superior knowledge. After all, she was the one in charge of the pan.

Her cousin Indali tipped over the shallow bowl of toasted sesame seeds, spilling into the sticky, syrupy jaggery as Asva worked to stir them thoroughly in. Not a moment after, tsking her tongue, she urged Indali, “Add it quicker-- before it cools too much!”

She watched the mixture come together, still bubbling, thickening with the seeds and chopped peanuts and cardamom. The toasted sweetness was added to the vivid ambience unmistakable of this annual celebration of many for which her family gathered. The sounds, the smells, the colors, and conversations which were new and yet the same all  swathed her in tradition. It was as predictable as the sun rising in the morning and the shifting phases of the moon. It was the order of things, a matter of course.

Picking up the hot dough and rolling it between her palms, as taught to her as her mother’s daughter, watching over her cousin’s efforts, “Roll it quickly before it sets.”

“Evenly! Make them more evenly," she pointed.
Before long, their large pewter tray would be stacked full of the sweet, joining the burgeoning dining table which had plates which were stacked on and swapped for each new dish birthed from the kitchen. The family would eat, and rest, and laugh, and tell old stories and new stories until it was time to take the portkey to the Ganga and the Yamuna for bathing. And her pink lenga would be sodden and sacred water would be weighing down her wild, untamed hair. And as it dripped from her brows, she would see the solemn faces of her auntees, and her uncles, and cousins, and brothers and sister, each dripping, each reflecting. In the falling dusk, their radiating ripples would fan out, intersecting and disrupting in the undulating river sweeping them by.

And her senses would be awash with memories new and old; warm despite the coldness of the water. Asvarya, her family’s daughter.

House Request: Ravenclaw

Asvarya is not one to shy away from being the center of attention. As part of a large family, one must jostle and push your way to be heard. Though she is the third child out of four after her elder twin brothers, she is still the eldest sister. Which counts for something. If Asvarya has a thought on something, she will almost certainly speak to it and provide commentary even on subjects in which she may not be experienced, but surely she has read somewhere something profound which is very interesting. Even if she doesn’t know everything about something-- and really isn’t that a little unrealistic expectation?-- she at least has thought very much about it, likely. And that definitely ought to count for something.

Fear just an obverse of the coin of curiosity. And what better way to meet that fear except head on? Asva is not one to back down from a challenge, when flustered, her instincts are to rattle off all manner of reasons and motives to justify herself as she processes the new information. However, in the end, she tries to be fair minded even when doing so can be humbling.

In between studying to meet her parents’ expectations, Asva deeply enjoys romance novels and keeps a large stack under her bed. Consequently, the spell which she has the most experience with is most certainly ‘Lumos’.

Asvarya’s most striking feature is her eyes, not for their earthy color, but certainly for their direct clarity and the deftness with which she uses them to accentuate a point or else to burst into exuberant laughter. The effect is emphasized by the sharp kitten kohl lines painted on her upper lid.

As part of her morning routine was her favorite gift from chaacha* Manan, her perfumery set. It made Asva feel like a real raajakumaaree** to be surrounded in a delicate cloud of jasmine and agarwood. But she had been warned earlier on by her mother to not put on too strongly, but rather to be a flower in the breeze.

Her wardrobe is filled with beautiful colors and fabrics, mixing both her heritage and her Liverpool home with modern paisley and bold floral prints alongside bright silks and sparkling brocades. She had her father cast an expanding charm on her closet to fit her growing collection of clothes-- which of course made it easier to hide the increasing number of mini skirts. 

*chaacha - HINDI, paternal uncle
**raajakumaaree - HINDI, a princess

Option 2:
Asva was twirling a gerbera between her slim flingers, feeling the smooth stem twist and turn as the petals fluttered with the movement. Enjoying the bright sunlight warming her dark hair, Asvarya headed to one of her favorite places on the grounds. It reminded her of her family’s potion store houses and the fields they owned back in India, fragrantly rich and abundant.  It wasn’t quite the same, but it was close, and in any case, better than any more hours in the library. She had already exhausted her wrist after many meticulous rows of ink, to the point of her palm smelling faintly of parchment.

By now, keeping up with her schoolwork was about as tedious as brushing her teeth. With almost little effort and fastidious handwriting, she breezed through her assignments and had little qualms about sharing her exhaustive notes with her friends. Afterall, the quicker she finished studying, the more she could read her novels. A parcel of new books had just delivered the other morning and she was dying to open them.

That was why today she had sped ahead several chapters for Charms and even written the introduction of the Runes essay due next week. All this would leave her the rest of this afternoon and then the weekend as well to enjoy her books in peace and possibly head to Hogsmeade on Saturday with her friends.

Just as she was coming up the path, she noticed another student floundering ‘round like an oaf. The look on his face was quite sour as well. But whatever was his issue-- it was no fault of the flowers. Interloper, she scoffed.

Quickening her steps and sending the pressed gravel scattering beneath her neatly polished oxfords, she came up to him, but the boorish boy didn’t even take notice until she was practically right in front of him. “Hmp!” she huffed with great exasperation. Until finally he noticed.

And was rude to boot. Who was this oaf to talk about what was and wasn’t polite? How arrogant.But what was she to have expected?Asva sighed to herself, from someone who was stumbling so carelessly through other persons’ hard work with no consideration?

“Well, if there was anyone who needed help knowing what was polite and what was not, I would think it is the boy who is trampling all of these flowers!” Color flared to her cheeks and her brows angled severely, emphasizing her disapproval.

Honestly. Boys do not know anything.


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Laskos et. al.

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You mean that pm wasn’t a beacon?

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