A Wand, A Wish and Some Magic

A Wand, A Wish and Some Magic


The swishing sound echoing through their small residence was getting on her nerves as Radha tossed the rotis on the stove.

“Stop that, Anmol,” she called out.

“That’s my wand, Ma,” replied her 7-year-old innocently.

“That’s a twig, for God’s sake. Not a magic wand. Magic is too far from reality. Especially for miserable people like us.” Her voice quivered as she wiped her tears off her sari.

“No, Ma. It’s real. Have you heard of Harry Potter? He flies on a broom and wields a wand…how magical! I saw it on the big TV from that new store.”

“Fine! Now, come with me to Sheela Madam’s house. She wants a spring-cleaning done before Diwali. I’d need your help. She might even pay us more if we finish it quickly.”


The duo spent the next few days tirelessly cleaning the mansion. Their last stop was a large semi-circular room near the terrace. 

As Sheela led them inside, a bearded elderly man looked up from a pile of books on his table.

“Dad, they’d be cleaning the library today. Can you step out for a while?” Sheela suggested.

Before he could respond, the garrulous Anmol rambled on. “Wow, Grandpa. I love the smell of books. But…ummm…Ma couldn’t afford my schooling. So, I dropped out. How I wish to read them all…” 

His awkward mother’s efforts to hush him up went futile.

“I love them too, son. Let me show the place around while your mother cleans it. Come with me.” 

 Sheela left the library after directing Radha to dust the bookracks lining the wall. As she got herself busy, Anmol and his companion talked at length about their love for books and reading. 

The day ended on a happy note, with Radha tucking away their hard-earned money safely and Anmol waving a cheery farewell to his newfound friend.


On the festival day:

“Happy Diwali, dearest. You’re all I have,” Radha said, hugging her son.

“Let’s light lamps, Ma.”

“Sure. Let this festival of lights create the magic you ask for.” 

They lit a few lamps together. Anmol took them out to the veranda to light it up when he noticed a stack of books arranged near the threshold.

“Maaa, look at this!” shrieked Anmol excitedly, flipping the pages of a book and breathing in its mesmerising scent. Radha hurried outside. The happiness on his face was priceless. 

“Ma…didn’t I say magic is real? These books appeared out of nowhere, maybe at the swish of a wand. But, I can’t read…” his voice trailed off on a sad note.

Radha noticed an envelope and picked it up. Its contents were a letter, and a school’s scholarship to aid Anmol’s education. She read the letter.

Dear Anmol,

One’s passion is so powerful that it creates magic. Your love to read and write is your magic wand.

May your passion drive you to reach great heights one day.


Prof. Dumbledore (You’ll know who, when you start reading the books. Wink!)
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