A magical World

Photo by Mark Cruz

While we go for a walk in the morning. Or go shopping for Eid. Or drive our cars. Habitually we walk the stairs, not measuring what distance is enough to balance us. Blow the horn, race the accelerator, keep an eye on our blind side, look for the red light ahead, know the pedestrians walking beside, the children playing or the football falling on the road. All habitually perfected to guide our car.

In few years, literally, 10 or 20, we fail to move a part of our limbs. The heart slows down. Brain goes haywire. A small happening humbles us. Down some years, any time a calamity hits — we convince ourself "Time heals". But we do not realise the real tragedy we did the past years was; not realising it was evident.

When we look at our hands moving on our keyboards, we see sequences of miracles transforming the creative juices in our brain to letters on the screen. Birds chirp, is some vibration of air moving our ear drums. The fan move is the Gravitational pull of air. And nearly all things — sleeping | studying | walking | driving or speaking — are reminders. That we are moving to our deaths. Time is not a healer. Our thoughts are not our friends. And our sane logics are not really sane. We can not afford listening to our body and forget the magical world we are living in. For, in magic there is fun, contentment, and discipline. Without magic, it is only driving a car, a walk on the track, or some grocery shopping.