Magic that we miss

A magician thinks all his magic is just tricks, similar to a trapeze artist who thinks that it is sheer practice and nothing else.

We also have fallen into the habit of dismissing such things through our bounded rationality

There is a small anecdote to elucidate my point.

I had gone on a trip to Shivpuri and was trekking out there with a few friends. I saw a pretty local woman walking around brandishing her stick menacingly. I told her that we were simple trekkers who were not out to harm her. She blushed and said that she was looking for her daughter who ran away after breaking the put and that she did not realize that we were walking around. “Many trekkers come here. For them we are just part of the landscape. They really do not take any notice of us, nor we of them”, she added. Lost in thoughts about how it is normal for us to not take cognizance of things that we are not familiar with, I wished her a good day and walked on.

A few paces ahead, I saw three young girls hiding themselves in a tiny crevice in the wall of the cliff. The crevice was so small that even a small child of four from the plains would be too big for it; but the girls had twisted and compressed their bodies so much that the three of them remained well hidden from normal passersby. I would probably have been oblivious of their presence, had I not heard their whispers and giggles and put two and two together.

I went and asked the girls what they were doing. The eldest of the three tried telling me not to tell their mother that they were there. “We were dancing and did not realize that the pot was kept there”, they added innocently. I smiled and continued my trek.

A few paces down, we came across the river, which we had to cross using the stones that were strewn across its shallow breadth. “Try not stepping into the water, said our guide, “the current is too strong and the mud below too soft. You might get stuck, might fall and break something”.  Aided by our guide, we all started crossing the shallow river, when I saw someone come running from behind. It was one of the girls. She was followed closely by her mother, who seemed to be laughing as she chased the girl down the stones.

I watched them spell bound as they seemed to be flying over the stones. Their feet hardly touched the ground as they jumped over the ledges and stones, reached the river and within moments, crossed it. Their crossing also seemed magical; their feet seemed to bounce off the water, even if they used the stones, they did it so naturally and subtly that It was nearly unperceivable.

I asked my fellow trekkers if they saw what I did and described the whole thing to them. They responded that they were not fools like me to go meddling with local folk where ever I went, they were tired and sore and wanted to go back to the camp for their drink as quickly as they could and were in no mood to watch people running.

This made me wonder – How many times in a day do we in our force of habit miss all the magical events that come across our way? Are we really alive?