In the book "108 Magical Words", two words—“Sariam” and “Rabiam”—stand out. Their origins are mysterious, from an unknown language, and their supposed purpose is simple, yet profound: to help you, within your thoughts, reach someone important to you, leave them a message, and then return to yourself. I repeat—this journey happens within your mind, with your eyes closed.
When I first read this, it made me smile. The idea was poetic, almost childlike in its purity. But then, it made me pause and reflect.
Isn’t this what we all already do, every single day?
How many conversations do we carry out silently in our minds? How often do we replay past encounters or rehearse future ones, imagining what we’d say, what they’d say back, and what we truly wish we had said? Sometimes, especially for those with deep emotional insight or spiritual openness, these imagined exchanges manifest in synchronicities, dreams, or even reality.
Our brain—and even more, our heart—needs no magical words to send a powerful message to someone. Whether it’s to protect a child as they head off to school or to whisper love to someone miles away, we often do this instinctively. Some call it intuition, others prayer, or simply a mother’s love, a lover’s longing, a friend’s hope.
The invisible network between us
When we stop, even for a moment, and tune into our inner world, we realize that each day, we travel countless invisible miles—in thought, in memory, in intention—to send love, support, or forgiveness. Those more skilled in this kind of emotional connection will confirm: the thought, the word, the emotion sent with full presence and sincerity travels faster and deeper than any message typed and sent via phone.
If this is true, then somewhere among the billions of people in the world, there must exist an enormous, intricate network of emotional waves—like a web made not of silicon and wires, but of energy and feeling. Is it physics? Is it chemistry? Maybe both. But when you think of someone—and at that same moment they think of you—it feels like you’ve both been caught in the same thread of that web.
And there’s one rule, simple but eternal:
What we send out is what we get back.
A kind thought returns as warmth. A hurtful one brings heaviness. No bad thought has ever borne good fruit.
Even when we are unaware, we are sending ripples out into the world, just like a pebble tossed into a pond. And the pond remembers. That’s why it's so important to be mindful not only of what we say or do, but also of what we think.
Forget magic words—clean the inner mirror
So, rather than memorizing a few mysterious words, or flipping tarot cards, or anxiously checking our horoscope, maybe we should start by cleansing our thoughts.
Let’s clear out the dusty corners filled with judgment, fear, jealousy, and anger. Let’s make room for forgiveness, hope, compassion, and faith. Who knows—perhaps the most beautiful thoughts lie hidden in people we’d least expect, waiting only for a kind gaze to awaken them.
No book ever taught our eyes how to look at someone with love. That look—pure, gentle, and glowing—is a natural gift, not a learned behaviour.
When you gently cover your child with a blanket at night, it’s not just the warmth of the blanket that offers protection. It’s the warmth of your gaze, your presence, your love.
People say the eyes are the mirror of the soul. I disagree. The soul is the soul. If we see nothing in someone’s eyes, we haven’t been misled. There was truly nothing there. But sometimes, in a single glance, we can see everything—an entire history, silent words, and even the future—like a movie on fast-forward.
Feeding the heart, the mind, and the soul
We need to nourish our whole being—body, heart, mind, and soul—not just through food or exercise, but through beauty. Through what our eyes absorb in the world around us: art, nature, a child’s smile, a gesture of kindness. Even with eyes closed, we must feed on beauty.
Our sweetest dreams often come when our eyes are tightly shut. That’s when we travel beyond time and space to leave a message, or to visit someone we miss. And that’s why sometimes, one glance—in waking life or a dream—is enough to know the truth.
But still... I wonder.
If just these two words—"Sariam" and "Rabiam"—carry such a profound message, what about the other 106 magical words in the book? What are they meant for?
Perhaps they are different doorways, different frequencies, for different hearts. And maybe not all of them are meant to "work" in the usual way. Maybe they are simply reminders—that we are more powerful than we realize, that our thoughts can travel, that love doesn’t need a passport, and that silence is often the most eloquent message.
In the end, if none of the "glances" work, we must remember that it’s not the words that matter—it’s the energy and intention behind them. And that, perhaps, is the greatest magic of all.