You know what is magic? Magic is the conclusive strength. And there is no strength as strong as hope.
Magic is Hope.
Though Wikipedia calls magic as the power of apparently influencing events by using mysterious or supernatural forces. But I call magic – hope. Hope that something that cannot happen normally…logically…practically will happen. Hope that life will change in seconds. Hope that problems will convert into solutions with a flick of a wand. Hope that a wave of the hand or blink of the eyelids will make possible a lot of things that normally won’t happen.
Ever wondered why is it that we still as adults love fantasy? Possibly it is the magic in there.
Fantasy books, movies, TV series even cartoons, adults are known to enjoy them much more than kids. Possibly because we were exposed to that magical element as children in the form of fairytales. And we have grown into individuals who still believe in fairytales. All the practicality of life and the harshness of the world has not been able to take away the belief of hope that was instilled in us. A broke, orphan, ill-treated girl could marry the prince of the country and become queen. Yes, there are many things that are wrong in that story but one of the many right things about it that it gives hope that better days are just around the corner. It opens up the avenues for us to dream and to believe in those dreams.
A few days back, I wrote a blog on why despite being a pluviophile, Mumbai rains make me sad. There is a story of human misery in the rains of Mumbai. A misery that on the face looks hopeless. Though the people who suffer have taken it in their stride; they are still proud of what the city is, while hoping for relief some day. Not just Mumbai. This is the story of all the cities in this country during monsoons. I write about Mumbai because the maya nagri is home.
The imbalance that shows up when it rains is:
“I often put up statues on Facebook/ Twitter/ Instagram, about how beautiful rains are, how much I love them, how they invoke the creativity in an artist…a story in the writer…a poem in the poet, how mesmerisingly magical they are. Many of my friends have done that too. I wonder if we did not have that cement roof over us and instead had a plastic sheet for a roof would we have described the pelting rain as music on our window panes and the pouring water, forming muddy puddles, as a magical sheet of drizzle.”
Can I take away the misery of leaking roofs or roofs that will fly away in the winds that precede the rains in Mumbai? As an non-magical, average citizen of this metropolis maybe I can make a difference to a few but definitely not to all. But with a magic wand, maybe I can. Why, we can always think of situations what we would do if we had magical abilities…a magic wand maybe.
But if I had a magic wand, would I do what I could do?
I did give that confusing thought a thought. And I would say give me a magic wand and I will put a roof that won’t fly away over Mumbai. The multistories and the houses with roofs of concrete don’t need that wand but the ones with plastic sheets as roofs, the ones with tears in those sheets, the ones with stones kept over those sheets can do with a bit of magic in their lives. They live everyday in the hope of a better tomorrow. And hope is magic.
Hope makes things happen. Magic makes things happen.