Childhood stories are supposed to be magical.
My first childhood story was magical too. A boy who can fly and never grows up, takes
children of non-magical/normal world to his land of imagination.
One imagination replaced another. One story replaced another.One magic replaced another.
Little later in my life, Nancy Drew solved teenage mysteries while Harry Potter created a second world. Charlie and Chocolate Factory offered a glimpse into making of world’s most precious commodity. Malgudi Days gave important life lessons playfully.
In teenage, Jane Austen built a young lady’s character through Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility and Emma. Wuthering Heights threaten about consequences of romance advocated by modern-day television series. Kite Runner ingrained importance of a guilt free life.
Adulthood was felt by depth of Memoirs of Geisha, complicated by Salman Rushdie’s musings and stabilised by wisdom of Mitch Albom.
I have started weaving magic too because stories indeed are magical.