Do you believe in Magic?

In Malaysia for all the trappings of modern life we remain a society deeply rooted in the belief of the unseen. The supernatural, the tahayul. Magic they call it.  This belief cuts across racial lines and class divide. Everyone from desperate housewives to politicians needs someone who can manipulate or at least, bargain with the unseen. Everyone needs a friend from the other side. 

Sendings of harm be it be it by air or by intermediaries so that you vomit blood and nails, suffer and later die. Love potions to make someone fall in love with you unwillingly. Or spells to drain love and invite strife, to clove husband and wife apart. Low magic.

Or hexes and mantras to command obedience and mute subservience. Doings and rituals to attract custom to one’s business, or to bring down a rival’s. Summoning djinns or elementals to unearth treasure trove from the bottom of the sea or river, or tangkals and talisman for proof from harm be it earthly or otherwise. Low Magic.

Unholy, misguided missals to blind eyes, deafen ears and stiffen tongues to distort Truth and imbalance the scales of Justice. Low magic.

Low magic. Black Magic. They are all low magic, black magic for they feed on our baser needs and wants. Lust, malice, jealousy and desire for power, drawing from fears of the past and worries of the future. The blacker they are all the more potent they will be. Perhaps that is why spiritual intermediaries are needed. There is only so much negativity one person can hold on to at any given time.

Not for me. All these use of intermediaries. These low magic stuff. Not that I do not believe in them, they exist. That much I do know. Just that I have no need for them. 

As in shoes, one must be discerning in the kind of magic one relies on.

The greatest magic comes from the unlikeliest sources. The three words lovers whispered to each other. The lightest touch from our wife or husband at time of turmoil and trouble. The sight of a bright clear sky in the morning. The smell of grass and earth after a good long rain. The whispering breeze through the leaves. The gurgling laughter of a baby. The hug from our growing child. The tearful thank you from a grateful client. The satisfaction of a job well done. The smell of our mother’s home cooked meal. The pat on the head by our dear father when we were kids. Words of encouragement and reassurance from persons of high regard in times  of confusion. The unlooked for helping hand when you are in need. A willing pair of ears when hearing is called for. These are what I call high magic. Real magic. The everyday kind. They come unbidden from deep well spring of our soul. They keep you grounded in the present. They keep you going. They give momentum to your movement. They keep you sane. They keep safe your belief in humanity. They etch a smile on your face and give warmth in your heart. 

That’s magic for me. No pulut kuning involved.