A Year of Pause, Reflection, and Rediscovering the Roots of Magic
In the year 2020, the world hit pause, and so did my magic. The silence was deafening—no shows, no cheering crowds, just an eerie stillness in a city that thrives on energy. For a magician, whose craft depends on live connection, this was uncharted territory. Yet, that year of pause became a gift, a time to reconnect with family, rediscover my roots, and reignite the magic within me. Living with my parents in Bahrain, savoring my mum’s cooking, bonding with my dad over films, and diving into magic’s history transformed me—not just as a performer, but as a human. It was a year of simple joys, personal growth, and planning my future in Dubai’s magical landscape. Here’s how 2020 reshaped my soul and my craft.
A Return to Roots: Living with Family
In 2020, at the age of 30-something, I found myself back in Bahrain, living with my parents. Some might think moving back home in your 30s is a step backward, but for me, it was magical in its simplicity. Our family home, filled with the warmth of shared meals and laughter, became my sanctuary. My mum’s cooking was the heart of it all. Every evening, the kitchen filled with the aroma of her Bahraini fish soup, made with hammour, a local fish that’s practically a national treasure. She’d simmer it with tomatoes, spices, and love, creating a dish that wasn’t just food—it was a spell of comfort. Each bowl felt like a hug, grounding me in a year of uncertainty. Sitting around the table, we’d share stories, my mum recounting tales of her childhood in Bahrain, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia. Those moments were magic, not in the stage sense, but in the quiet way they stitched us closer together.
My dad and I had our own ritual: movie nights. We’d sink into the couch, popcorn in hand, and lose ourselves in classic war films—Saving Private Ryan, The Great Escape, tales of courage and sacrifice. Dad, a history buff, would pause the screen to share tidbits about WWII or the resilience of soldiers, his voice alive with passion. Those nights weren’t just entertainment; they were bonding, a chance to see the world through his eyes. I’d grown up watching these films, but in 2020, they hit differently. They reminded me that magic, like survival, thrives in adversity. As a magician, I saw parallels—performing is about creating hope, a flicker of wonder in tough times. Those evenings with Dad planted seeds for how I’d approach my craft when the world reopened.
Living with my parents wasn’t just nostalgic; it was nurturing. I took care of them—running errands, fixing things around the house—while they took care of me in ways I hadn’t realized I needed. I focused on my health, too, eating mum’s wholesome meals, jogging along Bahrain’s corniche, and prioritizing sleep. In Dubai, my life had been a whirlwind of gigs; 2020 forced me to slow down, to rebuild my physical and mental reserves. It was a reminder that magic starts within—a healthy body and mind are the foundation of any great performance.
Rediscovering Magic’s Roots
With gigs on hold, I turned to books—not just for escape, but for inspiration. I dove into the history of magic, poring over dusty tomes and modern texts about illusionists who shaped the craft. From medieval Europe, where magicians entertained kings while dodging accusations of witchcraft, to WWII, where performers like Jasper Maskelyne used deception to outwit enemies, these stories captivated me. I read about magicians who risked everything—reputation, safety, even their lives—to pull off a single trick. Their resilience mirrored 2020’s challenges, reminding me that magic has always survived chaos, pandemics included.
These books weren’t just history lessons; they were a reconnection to why I became a magician. As a kid in Bahrain, I’d been enchanted by the idea of making the impossible real—making a coin vanish, a card appear. Reading about the greats reignited that spark. I studied their techniques, from sleight of hand to psychological misdirection, and practiced new routines in my room, using a mirror as my audience. It was humbling to see how magic had evolved, blending showmanship with storytelling, much like the films I studied in London. I wasn’t just learning tricks; I was honoring a legacy, one I’d carry back to Dubai’s stages.
Simple Joys: Fishing and Family
Bahrain’s culture is steeped in the sea, and 2020 gave me time to explore that heritage. I learned about fishing, a nod to my island roots. Friends taught me how to cast nets along the coast, sharing stories of Bahrain’s pearl-diving past. It wasn’t about catching fish—it was about patience, timing, and respect for nature, qualities that translate to magic. Back home, Mum would transform our modest catches into her legendary hammour soup, its rich flavors a testament to finding magic in simple things. Those meals, shared with family, were moments of pure joy, reminding me that wonder doesn’t always need a stage. It’s in the laughter, the stories, the connection.
Planning a Magical Future in Dubai
Amid the pause, I began dreaming bigger. Dubai, with its glittering skyline and global audience, was where I’d rebuild my career. In my parents’ home, I sketched out plans: new routines blending Bahraini folklore with modern illusions, tailored for Dubai’s diverse crowds—corporate execs, tourists, locals. I envisioned performances that weren’t just tricks but experiences, weaving in the emotional depth I’d gained from 2020. I researched venues, networked virtually with event planners, and refined my brand, One With Magic. The year wasn’t wasted; it was a chrysalis, transforming me into a magician with deeper purpose.
The emotional toll of 2020 wasn’t absent. The uncertainty of when I’d perform again gnawed at me, and there were days when the silence felt heavy. Like any performer, I thrive on connection, and its absence was a quiet ache. But living with family, surrounded by love and simplicity, balanced that toll. I wasn’t complaining—it was a job hazard, a universal pause that forced introspection. I leaned on meditation, journaling, and long walks to process it, ensuring my mental health stayed strong. Those war films with Dad taught me resilience; the magic books taught me legacy; Mum’s cooking taught me joy. Together, they prepared me to return to Dubai not just as a magician, but as a storyteller of wonder.
Carrying the Magic Forward
When 2020 ended, I wasn’t the same Nabeel Bera who’d left Dubai. I carried the warmth of family dinners, the courage of historical magicians, and the patience of Bahrain’s fishermen into every performance. Each trick now holds a piece of that year—whether I’m at a loud brunch in Jumeirah or a private party on the Palm, I perform with a deeper connection to my craft. The skeptics who try to “catch” the trick? They’re part of the challenge, a reminder to stay sharp. The exhaustion of multiple gigs? A badge of resilience, fueled by the health I rebuilt at home.
If you’re in Dubai and want to experience this magic, visit www.onewithmagic.com to book a performance. 2020 was a year of pause, but it taught me that magic thrives in the quiet moments—mum’s hammour soup, Dad’s war film debates, the pages of ancient texts. It’s in these roots that I found the strength to keep enchanting. Here’s to finding wonder in the simple things and carrying it onto the world’s stage.
