I stand at the bus stop waiting to barge into a bus. After a 10-minute wait, there comes one. But wait. Is that 170M or 70N. I am not sure. I squeeze my eyes, move forward to get a clear view. No use. Finally, when it was near it was neither 170M nor 70N but 17M. Sigh! It's been happening with me for quite sometime. Ego or self-consious, I didnt bother to rectify my defect. I didnt want someone to identify me as "oh! that girl-short and bespectacled". Gosh!. And the thought of using a contact lens made me sickening. Remove it, put it in a solution and again place it on your eyes. Can't go out in the dust nor stay overnight somewhere without any preparation. And above all carry those boxes wherever I go. sigh!
But this time. I was determined. Come what may. I can't go around with my "half-blind" eyes. And moreover, the number of headaches I had in the past few days has been on the rise. I went through just dial, made a few calls and finally found a doctor close to my house.
It was one evening I decided to make a "sacrifice on my beauty(he..he..)". After buzzing the bell, I waited for a call. It was a small, dark room with dim light. Neatly arranged ophthalmology and medicine books on one side, and equipment of various sizes and shapes on the other corner. The doctor looked like an intellect. Bald and was wearing spectacles. A Malayali menon, I noted. I was asked to sit on a chair, a special one designed for the purpose.
"Look at the mirror in front of you and see whether you can see the letter." he said. Right before my eyes, in the mirror, I could see black numbers on white screen. The bigger ones were visible, but the smaller ones looked like a jelabi. Squeezing my eyes, I tried to figure it out. But naw..nothing was clear. Embarrassed, I said him no. He inserted another glass. Wow! this time it was visible. I could read the bigger and the biggest letters. But the smaller ones still looked like a jelabi. My attempt to read those numbers failed and I ended up reading 6 as 2.
The third glass was much better. I could see the smaller ones, blurred. Finally, when the fourth glass was used, I could see even those jelabis. Hurray!! It was 7-2-6-9-4-8. The same procedure went on for the next eye too. The doctor, still not satisfied and want to predict my power accurately, went on further. A beam of light was passed into my eyes. And then two slides were shown in the mirror. Red and green with letters inscribed.
Doctor: "Now, can you see the colours"
Me: "Yeah. Orange and green."
Doctor: "Thats red. not orange."
Me:????? (Do I suffer from colour blindness?Oh God!)
Again a series of readings. Umpteen glasses used and changed. Finally!! I got one! So clear and crystal. I could read the smaller and the smallest. A smile on my face. And my power. It's -1.:)
And here I am ready. To join the intelligent group. Bespectacled and looking wise.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Survival of the fittest
Everyday morning you open a newspaper and browse through the contents, you get to see that there is a spurt in the number of deaths due to suicides. People tend to take their life in extreme conditions. Love failures, debts, failed marriages, depression- the reasons are aplenty. But what makes me wonder is how do the kith and kin of the deceased take it after the death of their loved ones, that too in a tragic manner. This morning happened to see news of a couple, who had killed themselves after they were unable to clear their debts. They have two children, both 12 and 8 years respectively. When the kids last saw their parents before leaving to school, little would have they known that their parents would kill themselves and orphan them overnight. The kids posed for the photographs holding the picture of their parents (may be an 'absolutely creative' news photographer would have asked them to hold it that way) and looking pathetic. It was said that their relatives were reluctant to give shelter to the kids. Leave alone the fact of providing them the basic essentials of life, but what about their education? What sin did the children do? If at all the parents, before taking the extreme step, had thought even a second about what the children would do after their death, would have got some second thoughts and changed their mind. Humiliation and criticisms from society might have pushed them to turn selfish not caring even about their offspring.
It’s even more appalling to hear about cases when the persons kill themselves and their children. Whenever I happened to type a headline "Woman kills her kids, self", I feel heavy in my heart. What rights does she have to take the life of her children even when she doesn’t have the right to kill herself? Not only it is against the law, but against the dharma too. How would have the kids psychologically felt when they come to know that the death is knocking at their doors or sometimes not even aware that it is approaching them. In fact I feel one should have a gut feeling to commit this crime. They should turn stone-hearted and grim to face the situation.
I read this poem somewhere penned by a father, who lost his daughter.
Was on this day that your were born
A ray of sunshine that I adorned
From heaven above you were sent to us
Hand crafted and unique,
one of a kind you were made
With big brown eyes and a gorgeous smile
Why couldn't you stay longer than a while
An aura you had that shown like a star
I search and look in the night sky you are
As quickly as you arrived
You had suddenly departed
Not right, not fair
For your life had only just started
So today a wish I make for you
One of love and happiness
Happy birthday to my girl
so true You'll always be in my heart and soul
Beautiful as a butterfly
Your spirit set free
Wishing I could be near you
To hold you close to me
Happy birthday my sweetheart
Forever loved,
A father.
It’s even more appalling to hear about cases when the persons kill themselves and their children. Whenever I happened to type a headline "Woman kills her kids, self", I feel heavy in my heart. What rights does she have to take the life of her children even when she doesn’t have the right to kill herself? Not only it is against the law, but against the dharma too. How would have the kids psychologically felt when they come to know that the death is knocking at their doors or sometimes not even aware that it is approaching them. In fact I feel one should have a gut feeling to commit this crime. They should turn stone-hearted and grim to face the situation.
I read this poem somewhere penned by a father, who lost his daughter.
Was on this day that your were born
A ray of sunshine that I adorned
From heaven above you were sent to us
Hand crafted and unique,
one of a kind you were made
With big brown eyes and a gorgeous smile
Why couldn't you stay longer than a while
An aura you had that shown like a star
I search and look in the night sky you are
As quickly as you arrived
You had suddenly departed
Not right, not fair
For your life had only just started
So today a wish I make for you
One of love and happiness
Happy birthday to my girl
so true You'll always be in my heart and soul
Beautiful as a butterfly
Your spirit set free
Wishing I could be near you
To hold you close to me
Happy birthday my sweetheart
Forever loved,
A father.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
What happiness is?
Happiness is relative. It varies between persons. To me happiness is,
1. Watching a baby smile from heart.
2. Flowers in full bloom.
3. Reading a book on a relaxed off day while hearing Elvis Presley on the system.
4. Watching the rains.
5. To talk for hours with the person whom you love a lot.
6. When you spend time with your sweetheart.
7. While I am with children.
8. Going on a trekking in a wild forest. Staying at a treetop hotel and looking at the stars at night.
9. When someone says that I have lost weight.
10. To drive at 120 kmph on a national highway.
1. Watching a baby smile from heart.
2. Flowers in full bloom.
3. Reading a book on a relaxed off day while hearing Elvis Presley on the system.
4. Watching the rains.
5. To talk for hours with the person whom you love a lot.
6. When you spend time with your sweetheart.
7. While I am with children.
8. Going on a trekking in a wild forest. Staying at a treetop hotel and looking at the stars at night.
9. When someone says that I have lost weight.
10. To drive at 120 kmph on a national highway.
Friday, January 16, 2009
The true smiles
It's been a fortnight long I had been to the home for children. Thought I would visit them without fail this off day. It's always fun being among children. They don't have pretensions. Their love is genuine and you feel like a bird when you are amidst them. You become a child again. It was not surprising to see them sing a song from a latest movie. Kids nowadays learn everything very fast. Be it movies or lessons. They are really smart.
Avudai, a special child, started becoming very close to me nowadays. Think she had started identifying me after my frequent visits. She even hugs and kisses now.
Was trying to tell them some stories. But, was ashamed to find myself struggling to recall the stories my teachers and parents taught me. When I was a kid my grandparents used to tell me stories from epics. They would have a moral at the end. The story-telling session would be very interesting. We would sit in the terrace in the moonlight. I would be sitting on the lap of my mother or grandmother. Feeding the rasam satham, my mother used to tell stories of crows, foxes and even Krishna or Rama. Though dozing, I found them very interesting. Those days there were no cartoon network or pogo channels. We children had to depend on elders to hear some larger than life stories. Doordarshan was the only solace then. We waited for sundays to watch He man or malgudi days.
With each generation passing, children have become cleverer and smarter. They now know what a local body means, the difference between Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha, what olympics and oscars mean, how rockets are send to moon and on what issue India and Pakistan are fighting over. They can even understand the value of emotions, trust and love. Children are like clay balls. Moulding them in a right way is our duty. And once it is done, you never know the heights they would reach and the success stories they would create.
Avudai, a special child, started becoming very close to me nowadays. Think she had started identifying me after my frequent visits. She even hugs and kisses now.
Was trying to tell them some stories. But, was ashamed to find myself struggling to recall the stories my teachers and parents taught me. When I was a kid my grandparents used to tell me stories from epics. They would have a moral at the end. The story-telling session would be very interesting. We would sit in the terrace in the moonlight. I would be sitting on the lap of my mother or grandmother. Feeding the rasam satham, my mother used to tell stories of crows, foxes and even Krishna or Rama. Though dozing, I found them very interesting. Those days there were no cartoon network or pogo channels. We children had to depend on elders to hear some larger than life stories. Doordarshan was the only solace then. We waited for sundays to watch He man or malgudi days.
With each generation passing, children have become cleverer and smarter. They now know what a local body means, the difference between Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha, what olympics and oscars mean, how rockets are send to moon and on what issue India and Pakistan are fighting over. They can even understand the value of emotions, trust and love. Children are like clay balls. Moulding them in a right way is our duty. And once it is done, you never know the heights they would reach and the success stories they would create.
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