To my grandma telephone was magic.
Every once in a while, it would carry one of her son’s voice from a far land she had only heard of.
She had this habit of explaining everything she didn’t understand with magic. If good things happened, it was Allah. And, if bad things happened, it was Satan. That’s how the world made sense to her.
Why do superstitions exist? I asked myself once. It exists because it helps us to deal with our anxieties. It helps us to stay calm in the face of uncertainty.
To me, my grandma was magic. She is the reason I spent a big part of my life trying to make sense of the things that do not make sense to a lot of us.
I mean questions like, why do pain exists, what’s our purpose and as such.