The Magic of 11:11

The Magic of 11:11 As I begin the tender task of compiling photos for Sana’s book, I find myself transported back to the essence of who she was—a child at heart, brimming with whimsy and wonder. There’s a beautiful contrast to Sana that makes her memory so vivid. Goofy and wacky in her own endearing way, she could fill any room with laughter. At the same time, her strong opinions and sharp intelligence were tempered by a heart so soft and gentle, it was almost as if she carried the fragility of marshmallows and sponge cake within her. Sana had a knack for being utterly unique. She could shift effortlessly from making insightful observations to talking absolute nonsense with a straight face, a quality that made her both intriguing and delightfully unpredictable. Her spirit was infectious, her personality layered in a way that only she could carry. Recently, Sana’s dear friend Vaidehi sent me a perfume with the numbers 11:11 on it. Along with it came a heartfelt note, sharing how it reminded her of Sana. For many years, 11:11 held a special magic for Sana. She truly believed that if she made a wish at that precise time, it would come true. It became such a regular occurrence at home. In the middle of conversations or chores, she’d suddenly exclaim, “It’s 11:11!” Closing her eyes tightly, she would make her wish with complete sincerity. She never missed a chance to believe in the magic of those fleeting moments. Looking back, I marvel at how something so simple brought her so much joy. At 21, she still carried this innocent hope, this unwavering belief in the power of small gestures to shape her reality. It wasn’t about naivety—it was about her ability to embrace life with open-hearted optimism, even in its smallest details. Her belief in 11:11 was more than just a superstition; it was a reflection of her honesty, her trust in the world, and her desire to hold onto the wonder of childhood, even as she grew into adulthood. It’s a reminder to me, and perhaps to all of us, to find beauty and meaning in life’s seemingly insignificant moments. As I piece together photos and memories for her book, I am struck by how Sana’s spirit continues to shine through these fragments of her life. Her quirks, her laughter, her rituals—they all remind me of the gentle magic she brought into our lives. Bless her, for being so honest, so naive, and so deeply herself. And perhaps, just perhaps, her wishes at 11:11 did come true. Because through her, we learned to cherish the little things, to laugh wholeheartedly, and to believe in the extraordinary power of love.