Nazo believed in magic. While the stories about djinns and
fairies and magic potions made her wonder, the everyday sundry experiences also
left her mesmerized. She was a simple person who felt special about simple
things like the sun peeping out from behind the dark rainy clouds.
I told her once a sad story, intentionally, I wanted her to
cry. It was a made-up tale about a little dog that lost his way home and died
of starvation. Before I could make it sound more pathetic, I saw tears in Nazo’s
eyes. Mission accomplished, thought I, until Nazo did something magical.
She asked me about the dog and I fabricated the cute brown
dog, with black ears and kohl eyes. Suddenly, Nazo jumped up and started to clap.
She told me to follow her and we both ran down to old Mr. Tolkien’s house. What
I saw there was as mysterious and as astonishing as a miracle. Nazo went
ahead right into Mr. Tolkien’s garden and brought a cute brown dog in her arms,
it had black coloured ears and kohl eyes. She announced that Mr. Tolkien found
the starved dog yesterday near the abandoned park and brought him home.
While coming back, I, filled with a concoction of emotions
(specifically foolishness), told Nazo the truth; that it was a fake story and
meant only to make her cry because her utter belief in magic in life suffocated
me. Nazo laughed at me and didn’t say a word. She then hugged me, if I remember
correctly.
After a few days Nazo gave me a card (she loved making
cards), a lovely one with colourful flowers and bright butterflies. She had
written a few lines inside, apart from wishing me a happy day, that I can never
forget, and I quote, “Magic is real for me, maybe because I try to see things
from earth’s point of view – a beautiful blue green lonely planet – something magical is happening for sure”.
I too believe in magic now.
