I have a child who believes in the magic of magic. She thinks there is actually a treasure at the end of the rainbow and that in some corner of the earth, there must be a fairyland which no one knows about. She is almost 6-year-old now and the pragmatic me used to try to tell her to come out of this imaginary magical world. “There is no magic in reality”, I insisted every so often during my conversations with her. I could see the tad bit of disappointment on her face whenever I said so. A few months back, while we were having lunch, she grumbled about the taste of yoghurt that day and requested me to feed her. I sensed this could just be an excuse for getting fed by me and I happily obliged. The moment she took a spoonful in her mouth, she exclaimed.
“The curd now tastes delicious, Mumma! How did this happen?”
“Well! That’s Mother’s Magic”, I instinctively quipped amused.
“See! I told you magic exists. It is everywhere Mumma.”, she tried to convince me.