May 31, 2006 @ 6:00 am
After my eyes decided to show me the way to the hospital for the second time, I found myself sitting in the waiting room once again.
With very few patients this time around, I felt a bit cheerful about sitting there all alone listening to some instrumental music playing in the background.
The hospital was trying its best to make the patients feel comfortable.
Sitting there, switching my focus from the ceiling to the floor and back to the ceiling every half minute, I suddenly see a young boy with a huge dent on his forehead being carried away on a stretcher. His relatives were crying and walking alongside the stretcher.
I stare at the ceiling and this time I am focusing some place far beyond the ceiling. Some place which is far beyond my ability to focus infact.
The assistant at the reception knocks me gently and places my medical file on my lap. My turn had arrived.
I enter the room and the doctor looks at my eyes, looks down at my file, calls the assistant and says “Check his vision”.
So now I am huddled into the “vision room” (not quite sure what its actually called) which was quite dark and would have made a perfect room for setting up a home theatre system. Yeah, what was I think about a home theatre for?
Suddenly a fleeting glimpse of that young boy on the stretcher whizzes past my mind – A life that is probably struggling between this world and the other.
The grieving relatives – Lives that are struggling between hope and suffering.
I sit down on the metallic chair and my vision is checked with various combinations of lenses. After the 5 minute long test, I am certified as a visionary. Or well, certified to have correct vision.
The doctor now says that my pupils have to be dilated so that my eyes can be peeped into to ensure that there is no internal damage.
I found that quite ironical – My eyes, which enable me to see, were going to be looked into. Awesome eh?
My eyes are subjected to certain drops and my pupils dilate. Consequently, the world looks a lot brighter. I am unable to focus on anything within striking distance of me. Therefore, I can’t read, can’t look at my watch, can’t see my cellphone (with that solemn hopeful look), can’t pretty much do anything that I spend my 20 hours a day on.
But yes, the world looked a lot brighter. The doctor peered into my eyes, declared “All clear”.
I was left out in the open, with dilated pupils. The world was a blur. A bright blur. And I liked it that way. The moment details start appearing, you lose the magic. You lose it all.
So, I continued to enjoy that big blur, sitting in an auto and looking at the world go fuzzy all around me. I reach my room and fall off to sleep.
My dreams however didn’t turn out to be fuzzy. They were infact so detailed that I had to wakeup and get back the blur in front of me.
The party finally came to an end a good 4 hours later. I was able to see everything clearly and I discovered that the world was just the same as I had left it some hours ago.
Moral of the story – The world can be a brighter place.
If you want it. Er, if your eyes want it that is.