On My Blindness

Before you start imagining the bottoms of soda bottles embellishing my eyes, let me inform you that I am not blind, at least not as blind as the poet Milton who penned such heart rending poetry of the same title. All the same my myopic vision coupled with my disgust for my glasses and compounded my refusal to use my lenses, has almost always gotten me into trouble.

As my earlier post might tell you, it is a fairly recently added feature, as in I wasn’t born with it! I am fairly comfortable viewing things that are less than half a meter away, the computer screen for instance. The problem with constantly viewing things within the same range is the lethargy that the ciliary muscles eventually develop. I used take pride in the fact that I could actually see the stars in the sky as distinct dots and not as blurred blotches. Of course there are far more serious repercussions of being visually impaired than not being able to see gases burning billions of light years away.

I was walking home from the bus-stop one evening, of course sans specs and lenses. A rather familiar yet blurred face seemed to be smiling at me. Before I could even register the face on the retina, leave alone run it through the complex face recognition algorithm that nature created and I ruined, the face zoomed away on a two wheeler. Minutes later at home, I received a call and barrage of choicest abuses flow including “Princess Snooty of Snootington” for having looked right through my ex-neighbor. I tried to fawn over my disability for which I got a sermon on the uses of spectacles and how spectacular they could make my personality.

But incorrigible that I am, I continued to wander the streets with my naked eyes. I had a lot of interesting ways to work around the problem.

I squinted hard enough to be passed of as a person of Chinese origin.
Expected outcome: It would be proof enough that I can’t see.
Actual outcome: People stared back like I had gunk stuck in my teeth.

I stared long and hard and didn’t look through people.
Expected outcome: I would finally register the face on my optical sensors.
Actual outcome: People started examining themselves to see if they had gunk stuck in their teeth.

I put on a perpetual smile on my face.
Expected outcome: The familiar faces think I am smiling at them.
Actual outcome: The unfamiliar faces think I am mocking them.

I stared only at my feet.
Expected outcome: No one would see me or at least they would know that I am not looking at them.
Actual outcome: I bumped into a lot of trees, people and parked vehicles.

The worst was yet to come: I was looking around the cafeteria for my friends and encountered this yet-another-familiar face staring back: yes I definitely saw the wheatish blur black tassels hanging from the top and two black blobs looking in my direction and smiling. I smiled back and gestured asking where the rest of the gang was. The smile seemed to disappear and I approached nearer to take cognizance of the crazy gesticulations which again were blurred like the slow motion special effects they use in Matrix. By that time the proximity was sufficient for me to identify the face. She was just an acquaintance and we met only for professional reasons. I nonchalantly said, “Hi. I had some questions about XYZ tools, since you’ve used them so extensively, I was wondering if you had any documents on them.” I knew I was trying to hook a powdered delivery which I barely could see and waited with baited breath to see if the fielder in the deep would drop the catch. She was quite flummoxed by the sudden query and responded with a noncommittal, “I don’t know about any document of that sort. I am a bit busy and don’t think I can help you out with it.” I wanted to say, “Right! Excellent! By the way I don’t use those tools any more.” But I had to continue to with the charade and the chagrin and ended up saying, “Oh! No problem. Thanks anyway.” I bolted from there only to be brought back to the same seating area by my friends. Even today, I give this particular colleague a sheepish grin and scamper away.

After waving out to virtually unknown people, grinning at mannequins in shops and watching a hazy world go by, I realize that blindness adds to my eccentricities. There are people who stand and wait alright and then there are people who stand and squint.