Magic words are magic. Each one has its own purpose. Some can open doors, like “open sesame.”
Some make parents happy, like “please” and “thank you.”
Some are so hard to use, like “sorry.”
Some mean no worries, like “Hakuna Matata,” and some could turn a situation upside down, like “Habra Kadabra.”
Seif’s magic word is “Swish Swish.”
To him, it’s the spell for courage.
The first swish is the sound of bravery, and the second is the sound of resilience.
Seif is a very brave sabre warrior.
In his dreams, he always imagines he will fight intruders attacking his school, Swish, or robbers breaking in from his backyard, Swish, Swish, Swish.
He will approach them from behind and counterattack with his finest metal sword, Swish Swish.
Every day, he works on his moves and practices the speed of the sword swing, which makes the sound of the magic word.
He has 10 swords. Some of them are plastic, some of them are cardboard, some of them are metal, some of them are wood and some are made of paper… but when he asks his mom for more, she says:
“No amount of swords will ever be enough!”
“Not sure. 10, is too few,” Seif says.
“Oh, is that right? How many will too many be?”
“200,” Seif says with hesitation.
“Nah! 200 won’t possibly be enough,” Mom says with a chuckle.
He laughs, too, seeing her point, and stops asking for more until next week when he checks swords online and asks for more.
At the end of every month, on the weekend, Seif organizes dual tournaments, where he gets to fight his dad, Swish Swish; his uncles, Swish Swish; his friends and his cousins, Swish Swish; and his neighbour, Swish Swish Swish.
He won’t dual friends who don’t like the game, and he knows he’s not allowed to dual younger kids. So, he doesn’t.
“What is brave in that? There’s no bravery in fighting little fellows or hurting good friends. It’s actually the opposite of brave. It’s the unbravest thing ever—extremely braveless. It’s the antibravery itself,” Seif says. “But fighting FOR little ones is what a brave warrior would do.”
He keeps that image in his mind while practising.
Just like every resilient fighter, Seif faces obstacles and challenges. In real battlefields, mountains, trees, rocks, and even buildings stand in the way of winning a battle. Seif’s combat area, instead, is full of obstacles: TVs, mirrors, balloons, photo frames, white walls, ceiling fans, and chandeliers.
Swish, Boum, Swish, ba-doum, Swish.
“You’re too close to the TV!”
Swish.
“Watch out!”
Swish.
“Play in your room!”
Swish, crash!
Too many casualties. But Seif needs to be flexible and face these challenges like every resilient warrior. He needs to be like a reed that bends and copes and isn’t stiff like an oak.
Oaks might break when they face strong wind, while reeds adapt.
He read a fable at school last week, in which he learned that it is better to yield when it is folly to resist than to resist stubbornly and be destroyed.
So, Seif decides it’s time to think out of the box.
To be flexible but determined.
To envision his goal, while making it happen.
So, he changes the combat area. He walks over to the old shed, hangs puffed cushions and pillows, and attaches them to the wall. He prepares the shed for so it’s ready for next month’s tournament.
But next month’s tournament causes even more serious causalities!
A civilian causality. His Uncle’s index is injured.
It’s an un-swish kind of time.
Time to give up this game. Find another interest.
Get the largest keepsake box he ever had in the shed.
Remove every sword, backsword, claymore, cutlass, dirk, falchion, scimitar, rapier, light saber, epee and foil and to let go of his passion for good.
“But wait isn’t quitting the opposite of brave?” Seif says, “to stop trying is the unbravest thing ever? Letting go of your dreams is extremely braveless? And giving up your passion is the antibravery itself?”
This is a tough one. He needed his parents’ help.
En garde, pret, allez.
3 months later, Seif is on his new battlefield.
A symmetrical field is a piste. He is wearing white and is facing 10 armed warriors.
They are all wearing mesh hats, like headpieces. Their boss is the one he needs to fight; if he wins, he will win the whole battle.
Swish Swish Swish–hit.
Only the boss is wearing a mesh mask, that is hiding his face.
Seif imagines his opponent’s face, having a zigzag scar through his forehead, curving at the right side of his nose.
Swish Swish Swish–miss.
He doesn’t need to swish him to the ground, he only needs to take him down in 3 minutes.
Swish Swish Swish–hit..
But his adversary is too strong, he has to fight him for a whole bout of 9 min, 3 minutes every round and to hit any part of his body 15 times.
Swish Swish Swish– miss…
The battle is a tournament of a unique uncommon sport called Fencing.
Seif enrolls in this new sport. In this game, Seif doesn’t create the moves, rules, or conditions.
This new sport needs attendance, discipline and submission. It needs good listening, hard work and practice, which means less playtime and a lot of trial and error…
But “Swish, Swish” remains Seif’s most powerful magic word.
The spell for courage.
The first Swish is the sound of bravery and the second Swish is the sound of resilience.
The game ends.
It’s a tie.
There’s one extra minute during which either fencer can score a final touch.
Seif is tired and wants to give up.
But his mind plays little swishy sounds.
It sounds like bravery. It’s sparkling so loud in his mind that he remembers his special magic word.
He feels his arms swinging out of the discomfort, making the strongest sound of resilience.
He does what a brave warrior does.
He fights so hard his fear and despair:
Swish, Swish, Swish Swish– jump!
He jumps into the piste with all his heart!
Going back on the piste for Seif is his bravest move ever.
His hard work and practice have made him extremely brave. Not letting himself stay stuck in his comfort zone is bravery itself.
It doesn’t even matter whether he wins or loses.
He cares less because he feels full of bravery.
And for one last minute…. He swishhhhes away.
