“ No you don’ t”.“ Yes I do”, he insisted.
Without Glasses
“ If you do, I’ ll lend you my glasses once I have them repaired. Better still meet a shrink. Hallucination is not a good sign”.
“ Hey! Don’ t get touchy. So where are your glasses?”
“ While you are at it go get an audiometry done as well”.
“ Oh! So you have broken your glasses?” not a very bright colleague, you can guess.“ Can you see me? Can you see the food? Can you see your hands?”
It happened on an innocent night. It was not the first time; neither was it going to be the last. Once bitten twice shy has never been my style. Practice maketh perfect fits me like skin.
I had been head banging to some heavy metal symphonies. When I opened my eyes, the world appeared hazy. I hadn’ t the foggiest notion why. We were given to understand that loud music might temporarily damage hearing. Eureka! It may affect vision too.
I felt for my glasses. They were not where I had placed them last, i. e. on the bridge of my nose. A foreboding sense of, not unfamiliar, doom enveloped me. I soon prostrated myself and began groping on the cold floor. By and by, I recovered an intact frame and pieces of broken lens. The next move was to trace the latest optical prescription among my numerous files. After an hour or two I succeeded in finding the needle in the hay-stack. It was too late in the night for any further action. I retired. Sleep came in installments widely spaced in time by nightmares of life without spectacles.
I awoke drenched in sweat. It was earlier than usual. I took that as a good sign. I needn’ t see anybody and nobody need see my helplessness. I abbreviated my daily routine to the essentials that could be safely carried out in the absence of optical aids. I was not satisfied, but man is a creature of compromise.
Breakfast at the mess was studious hand-to-mouth co-ordination revisited. I was feeling quite primitive when someone asked me if something had fallen into my plate. I ignored. What I couldn’ t give a miss was someone painfully pinching my behind and shouting:
“ New pinch! I see contacts”.
“ About your first question, you and I should thank God that I cannot. About your other questions I couldn’ t care.”
“ There’ s no point sitting at this table with you in such a sore state”.
Obviously out of spite, he did not spread the word. On my way out of the mess, I met another of his ilk. This one came as a bolt from the blue and thumped me on my back as if he had some old scores to settle. I couldn’ t recollect any.
“ New contacts?”
“ No, I’ m going to get my glasses repaired.”
“ Oh! So you are blind? Shall I come with you? Can you see the ground?”
“ No thank you. I’ ll manage by myself”.
“ It won’ t be any trouble; I’ ll just change my clothes and accompany you.”