Can you see sharp? I can't...and I hope neither can you. After all, why should the world have slipped out of focus for me but not for you? I ardently believe in a world of equality, a world where everyone has lost focus. It's not that I'm blind, because I can see very well how most people still enjoy the privileges of not being bespectacled...and it pains me to the core. Injustice and nepotism reign supreme. If you don't have a crystal clear vision or the right contacts, rest assured you will be framed.
But my vision wasn't always this bad (-0.75, -0.75). Ophthalmologists say that within a few weeks after birth, a baby is able to focus on the tip of his nose...and I guess I was no exception when I condescended the world with my birth. I had an unhindered vision for a long period before the world around me began slipping out of favor with my sight.
Perversions are the signature of adolescence. I began yearning for glasses as I thought they would make me look more intellectual. Since I had gradually begun to realize that much of the world had failed to acknowledge my genius, maybe some cosmetic effect would set things right. My clandestine prayers to Satan were soon to be answered! I discovered, quiet accidentally, that the vision in one eye wasn't as sharp as the other. I was so excited! Does this mean that I'll finally get my pair of glasses? I nagged about my vision to Dad, who straightaway blamed my excessive watching of the TV. Well, the damage was done and I warranted a quickfix.
So we dashed to the ophthalmologist, who, after a series of intricate tests that involved placing space-age styled vision enhancers, came to the conclusion that my vision was indeed flawed. The confirmation was music to my ears. If glasses were here, could Mensa be far away? Maybe I'll be assisted to do great things (I was destined for them anyway!) by my glasses, maybe I would finally be hailed by the nonchalant world for my prodigal self, maybe I would win the Nobel Prize some day...all due to my beloved glasses that helped me focus!
Soon I got my prized spectacles for just Rs.240, a steal really at that price. I was to be framed again and again over the years, but the expected Nobel never came my way. I know, it's as distant a dream as Osama bin Laden preaching from the Bible or Lalu renouncing his beloved bovines. But what's life without a flicker of hope? Mensa hasn't inducted me either. I figured my fame would spread far and wide and that the organization would consider itself redeemed by offering me an honorary induction. Nope, that too never happened. And don't expect me to take the test...I'm too good for it. What's wrong with the world?
My enthusiasm for the glasses gave way to disgust. I even bought a book titled Better Eyesight Without Glasses. The first half of the book condemned all bespectacled species on earth, something I endured with great gumption. Insults were heaped upon me as I flipped through the pages. And just when I had given up on ever recovering lost pride, came the simple and friendly advice from the book: improve your eyesight by just refusing to wear them! This novelty was iterated through the remaining pages of the book. Great! I had achieved nirvana.
I tried my best to avoid my spectacles over the next few months. Didn't have the desired Placebo Effect. Instead, I began missing out on feasting my eyes on the pretty babes of Pune. Things had finally come to such a pass that I had almost forgotten how pretty girls looked like. Damn! Enough of this nonsense. I reverted to my bespectacled self!
That's the way I've been for the past many years. I'm framed for life.