A Wizard Called Bruce.
Tales of Enchantment on the Streets of Nepal.
Hello Friends and Fellow Adventurers,
I trust this finds you in magical spirits!
Amid the vibrant streets and hidden alleys of Kathmandu, I recently stumbled upon a figure straight from a storybook – Bruce, a real-life wizard whose presence transformed an ordinary day into an extraordinary one.
It’s not every day you get the chance to chat with a wizard, especially one who roams the mystical landscapes of Nepal.
Let’s dive into this week’s magical journey…
The First Meeting: An Unexpected Character.
The first time I spotted Bruce, he was happily minding his own business at the aptly named Cafe Awesome. I couldn't help but notice the wizened old fellow in his bright orange parka, rainbow-coloured beanie, and his long, white, dreadlocked beard. As I approached, I noticed several faded tribal tattoos on his hands, face, and even his nose. As I passed him by, he took his rope-like beard between his fingers and began twirling it, lasso style, in an absent minded kind of way.
Continuing onward, I somehow just knew that I would be crossing paths with this beard-twirling man again – and that he would have amazing stories to share.
Boy, was I right!
The Second Encounter.
A day or two later, there he is again, outside a ramshackle cafe, mug in hand.
I seize the opportunity to make his acquaintance.
"How's the coffee? Any good?" I venture.
"No idea," he calls back, his Antipodean accent rings with a distinctive twang. "This is ginger tea."
And so began our conversation – normal enough for starters, but before long, my new friend (from New Zealand, as it turns out) reveals to me that he is both a writer, and a wizard.
Now, I'm always thrilled to encounter a fellow writer, especially when they happen to also be a wizard. As you know, my ongoing quest is to encounter someone with magical abilities and to witness an event beyond the realms of the ordinary – and who better to fulfill that role than a self-proclaimed wizard?
Of course, dealing with individuals of magical persuasion requires a delicate approach. You can't just dive straight into probing them about their magical abilities or demanding demonstrations of their spells and incantations. Instead, the key is to ease into the conversation gently, make them feel comfortable, and gain their trust. Fortunately for me, Bruce is a natural-born storyteller, ready to weave his tales with little prompting.
"When did you first realize you were a wizard?" I inquire, curious about his mystical origins.
Bruce's eyes light up with a mischievous twinkle. "Oh, that goes way back," he reminisces. "I was just a kid, about seven or eight years old. I stumbled upon a book called The Magic Faraway Tree – a world brimming with magical folk and an enchanted forest. I was utterly enthralled. It was then that it dawned on me – I might just be a wizard."
As he spoke, the air around us seemed to shimmer slightly, unnoticed by others, but undeniable to me. Was it the heat, or something more?
"So, what happened?" I probed, my interest deepening. I too had been captivated by The Magic Faraway Tree as a kid, and those magical tales had stirred my childlike imagination, just as they had for Bruce.
"Well, I decided that I would conduct a little experiment to see if I was a wizard or not."
I love it! Even as a kid, Bruce's instinct was to run an experiment. I'm curious to hear how rigorous it was.
"I said to myself," he continues, "if I'm a wizard, I will wake up at exactly 7am tomorrow morning."
I paused, intrigued by the simplicity of his experiment but eager to hear the result.
"And did you?"
"To the very second! Mind you, I didn't have a clock in my bedroom, so I had to trot out to the dining room in my pajamas and look at the mantle clock. And just as I did, the second hand passed the twelve ... 7am precisely!"
"And that proved that you were a wizard?"
Bruce chuckles. "Not quite, but it was a good start. So, I decided to up the ante and aim for 6 a.m. the next day. The next morning, I trotted out in my pajamas to look at the mantle clock, and sure enough, 6am on the button. 'Yes! I'm a wizard!' I thought to myself, but I knew I'd have to do it one more time, to be absolutely sure. So, the next morning, I tried for 5am."
"Don't tell me …"
Bruce's expression turns slightly more solemn. "I woke up with the sun just beginning to rise. I knew it was 5 a.m., but I was too scared to look."
"Why were you scared?"
"Because I knew I that if it was 5am, then I definitely was a wizard, and I was suddenly afraid."
I imagine little Bruce laying in bed, terrified that he might be a wizard!
"What did you do?"
"I lay there for what I reckoned was about three minutes, then I mustered the courage to creep out of bed and inspect the clock. Three minutes past five – to the second! At that moment, I realised that I was different to other boys – I was magic."
OK, so maybe it wasn't the most scientifically rigorous experiment, but I can see how as a seven year old, it must have seemed pretty conclusive. Listening to Bruce recount his childhood experiments, I couldn't help but smile at the simple innocence of his logic. It was a poignant reminder of how our childhood beliefs can shape our entire lives. In that moment, Bruce wasn't just a mysterious figure; he was a boy who had never stopped believing in magic, inviting me to suspend my disbelief along with him.
Curious, I decide to ask Bruce what magical powers he has cultivated over his many years of wizardry – and of course, I am secretly hoping he will give me a demonstration – but, just as I am about to ask, a very happy looking Baba arrives on the scene.
"Hang on," Bruce interjects, "this is my friend – we have to exchange blessings."
Bruce and the Baba graciously agree to let me document the double blessing ritual. Bruce, using his beard, and the Baba, employing the traditional tikka paste applied to the forehead.
"My beard is also my wand," Bruce explains, as he receives his blessing in the form of a dot between the eyebrows. "It's handy because I always have it with me."
The blessings complete, the smiling Baba wanders on his way, and Bruce returns to his table, gathering his belongings into his shoulder bag.
"Come visit me in my guesthouse if you fancy a ginger tea," Bruce says, extending the invitation with a warm smile. "There is a lot more to share," he promises, with a mischievous glint in his eye. As if to demonstrate, he takes the ring from his finger, and before my very eyes, it vanishes into thin air.
"A lot more!" he smiles.
It's all the invitation I need.
Coming up in Part Two.
Dive deeper into Bruce’s mystical world, where mandalas elevate consciousness and premonitions come to life. Witness as Bruce reveals the secrets behind his magical powers and shares a spine-tingling encounter from the spirit world.
Part Two is for Premium Subscribers - Don't miss these enchanting revelations that blur the line between the possible and the supernatural. Upgrade to Premium now!
Have Your Say!
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Wishing you all a week filled with curiosity, enlightening conversations, and unexpected insights!
✌️❤️
Grant.
It seems that Nepal is a melting pot of characters where traveler has varying degrees of "Bruce" inside them. Present company excluded of course. Question: how did Bruce work out his beard was mystical? Great work and really well written.
That’s what I want to be when I grow up!