a lovely feeling

warning... its long.

It’s lovely and very exhilarating to be able to do whatever you want. Especially if that is to scream your throat off on a terrace, high above the rest, with the wind in your hair, dancing the stars away, to your voice and the tunes you love to hear. It’s a wonderful feeling to be helped with perfect timing by nature, the wind blows at a point where there’s maximum happiness in your voice and smile. There can be hundreds of reasons why one could be that happy. One might simply be to do all that I said, completely undisturbed in the darkness of the night where finally for once in the world, no one is watching.

Yeah I did all that, and am that happy.

Over the past week I have come to realize many thing… most of them turned out to be things I heard about love. But this time it was an experience, some of which I experienced directly, some of which I experienced through others.

Quite long and confusing isn’t it, but its wonderful to realize and know what I am talking about.

Firstly they say love is blind, you don’t know when it comes or will go, it’s an experience. Those who are in it know pain, sorrow, relativity in totality and most of all inexplicable happiness.

The thing that we don’t realize is, love can be anything.

It isn’t necessary to have a voice, a heartbeat, or being biped at all. But when it has all that…one word alone explains it, joy.

I love my cat, love it like anything. It had been with me since its day two. I’ve done things for it you would imagine parents to do for their kids. My kitten is like me. Moody, very picky, totally stubborn, utterly playful, a rebel. When it was small and abandoned by mummy dearest, I took it up. That was a beautiful feeling. It was mine to look after. Mine, another living creature… it was, is and always be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

I’ve spent whole days just playing with it, staring at its beautiful eyes, patting it to sleep when it crawled up into my arms for warmth and napped away to glory. I spent days trying to figure out the best way to give it some goddamn milk when its mum ditched it, ink filler, spoon, hand, straw… how the hell do I get it to stop scratching my hands off, how do I get it to sleep in a box instead of my face…. OMG I went mad. But in all that I had so much fun. I watched it grow from the size of my palm to what it is now…I’ve played so much, pampered it to laziness, took so many videos and photographs fit enough for exhibitions in Paris. That lucky cat, it left me… and today I am here, heartbroken, kitty less and sad, with slow tears down my eyes. Even as I sit here typing, I have a feeling it’s running around the room playing as usual. I look up to realize it’s my imagination.

Its painful, yes, very painful, but I look back and see how much fun I have had with it. How much joy it gave me in being there to play with and pamper…

I still remember the twinkle in its eyes when it plays, the way its tail twitches as I pet it. Beauty, love.

To others it’s just a cat, they say for how much it has bitten and scratched me, its good that it ran away. No one understands what I went through. But that’s ok. It is my experience after all. Had they known, would it be that light a thing to lose? The love of my kitty.

An inanimate love is also possible as I said. For me, it’s in a camera.

The best thing god created, in my opinion would be to be able to see. I really am sad for the animals and those who are blind for this reason. Color…color is life.

Music is ecstasy. Mind is a beautiful workshop in full function. Put all this together…you have paradise. And it’s a world of your own. No one, no one can see your world like you. That’s yours to keep bud.

I got hold of a few pictures of this kid, Alexandre Evans. He’s from Canada.

He’s 17 and has the most resplendent eyes I have ever seen, to go with the prettiest face I have seen on earth. Whatever his character is, there is a beautiful flawed flawlessness about his face. It was amazing to find how hard he is working at his photography, with the help of his friends… he has delivered a lot, which very duly made him famous online. For god’s sake, he’s gorgeous, loves and does everything I do, and has his own clothing line at 17! One can’t ask for more. My hearty desire is to be able to meet him just once… once and capture the light in his eyes to perfection. The most beautiful picture in the world… just once.

But its not just his eyes that make me happy when I think of my camera. My beautiful model was my pampered runaway kitty too. It brought out some of my best shots. When I walk around, my eyes hunt for a perfect picture I could take with my camera. To glorify an ordinary object, to its unknown forgotten glory. That, that is my love. When I bring out the light in an object flawlessly, that gives me joy. It is my desire to be able to take such glorious pictures of the people I love, many a day must pass before that can be. A camera is what I need. A good one. That will be. My love will live on.

Recently, and by that I mean, in the past two days, I watched three love stories. Yes a hopeless romantic you could call me. I don’t care, I like it. I watched Kate and Leopold and you’ve got mail (yes both Meg Ryan starrers, don’t you just love how cute she is!) and jab we met.

In each of this, I saw characters that brought me joy as I watched. It was very pleasing and a strange happy feeling…that joy I was talking about, to realize, wow love like that could exist.

Kate and Leopold… wow, that was where I saw Leo be himself, and Kate herself.

I fell in love with the idea, that being a real gentleman was possible. And the qualities I saw in him, Chivalry, grace, intelligence, actual sensitivity, forethought not to mention, as he was called in the movie, a Hunk. He was by all means a gentleman, though it could have been just by his time travel to the present from 1876. No that’s not it… he maintained all he had in him, even at the time he was here…that is truly a gentleman. I saw them fall in love. I saw the closeness. I saw the joy in the smile, the sparkle in the eye. A simple reason for all this was merely the other’s presence. Yes its madness you may say, it’s a movie, they are characters…so what? They were written to be imagined, to be real weren’t they? And where do you take inspiration to write? Reality right.

You’ve got mail was simply cute. In both these movies, there was purity about the love that made me smile. A really happy smile.

Jab we met, OMG that is one stupid useless movie you cannot watch by paying money. But my god, look deeper is what I say. The heroine… Geet has such an unbiased, purity about her character. It made and makes me desire that purity, that happiness which that character brought her. To see that Aadithya, her hero, fall in love with her, for only that… that is pure love man.

So what if I haven’t seen or experienced all this first hand…isn’t seeing all this and being able to understand it while watching experiencing it too.

Well these movies have done two things for me. One assure me that my high expectations are not baseless anyway, two… it is possible to have that purity. And that too, because of someone else.

Its even fuzzier, cute and a very happy feeling to have a crush. Dude, its like not love, just lighter. Its fun. You know its not for real, yet trying to catch a glimpse of your crush, trying to do this unnoticed by your friends or your crush all day, having just a word, getting a small smile, making them laugh, small things that make you happy… its also there… and these are better till you know yer gonna fall hard on your face in love with another soul. And ppl I mean soul by all means.

Wow. I could go on.

These things I realized in this week. And it has given me joy.

Music can give you joy. Color can give you joy, a kitten can give you joy, another human can give you joy… and all these can give you love. Its there… you already have it don’t you… you just don’t realize…

Now what does that have to do with singing like a lunatic on the terrace, where I might as well fall to my death from.

Think about all this. Music blaring, your voice to go along with it, dancing with you hands held high, wind in your hair. It gives you hope. It made me happy, it made me smile from my heart. Hope… Hope for tomorrow.

PS: please visit. Alexevans.net to see the guy I was talking abt…all credits go to him for my talk and the pics.

new views

ok there's not much to be read into between the lines... it is what it is..
Its just an observation of the things around me lately... totally out of my character and league to write it, but I thought hey why not

I don't know what it feels like
To be lost to myself
To be complete with the existence of another

I don't know what it feels like
To the the shine in someone's eyes
To have a glint in mine at the thought of another

To have never spoken enough once apart
To have rambled on even when together
To be the that charm that makes one glow

To be the smile that fills a day
To drive mad when I speak
To drive insane to be without

Yet I see it around, It makes me smile
Maybe the world ain't so bad afterall

I will be the joy, I will be the glint
I will be the smile, I will be the rain
I will go mad, I will drive insane

Its all written down somewhere
Its just a matter of time

Pride and Prejudice

For those who know what I'm talking abt.... I'm sure you had as much fun as I did! For those who don't.... GET OUT THERE AND GRAB A COPY! missing this book is missing something in life!
To me this is more a review than blog on one hand... but a blog on the other... but its left to you decide...but you have been warned... its LONG! ^o^ enjoy

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

-JANE AUSTEN

Well now, wow! I mean, WOW! I completely agree with Somerset Maughm! There’s ABSOLUTELY nothing so exciting about the whole story. Ordinary, but handsome looking simple hearted Jane, Clever not-so-handsome-as-her-sister Elizabeth, amiable and handsome Bingley, very handsome PROUD, brooding Mr. Darcy! Complete disapproval, mild love making, ‘talking’! And that’s it! Prejudiced Ms. Liza can change proud Mr. Darcy at the end with nothing extraordinary but by the love he develops for her. Mr. Darcy shreds Liza’s prejudice by the simple act of being a gentleman, but a gentleman in love with her…. Still I turned each page eagerly, to read this ordinary story.

It’s so strange that even though money was more important, aided of course by rank (Not as much as in the present though), it was overcome simply by love. So pure a love it is actually quite astonishing. Not even in one’s dream could there be such pure emotion felt in the heart of a single human being today

But hey, that just maybe my prejudice. True, very true! I haven’t stepped out from the portals of my sheltered haven as much as I would like. I have NOT stepped out into the real world. I’m not in a position to do that, being so dependent! Neither am I content, nor can I rest peacefully. But this is not about my life entirely is it. Its about my experience of pride and prejudice, and its impact on my life. My observation, I hope will be helpful to my life at the least. For I have noticed, as my sister so clearly put to me, I have been non-committal and completely senseless in taking nothing seriously in my life. I still don’t mean to take this too seriously but I am willing to embrace a change, its impact in my life, hoping, again, to change it for the better. Bringing about a change in my reflections, impression, vocabulary and passion.

I still notice the flaw in my wishes. I’m still talking about something but doing something else. I’m digressing from the topic.

OK, coming back. Pride and prejudice.

Truthfully, if I have to start giving an account, it should begin with ‘Sense and Sensibility’. Seeing actors play out the characters with such passion, seeing them forget themselves, making me forget their celebrity titles, they became the characters. With such strong emotions playing out in front of me, being sentimental and being the hopeless romantic that I am, how can I be anything but in complete awe, of not only the actors, feelings, but everything to do with the story!

This awe always held, and still holds high in my heart to this day. For, it is to be mentioned here that the actors, as splendid as they are, have done complete justice to their parts.

Well this awe I expressed to a friend, who I only recently found had similar interests, who joined me in my bliss and romance and so simply narrated to me that simple yet so romantic a story, pride and prejudice.

It can be deceiving, how a good narrator can make a droll story line, into a fantastic story! Sometimes, it is so amazing that this fact is achieved by something as a simple narrative. But here the story is only half true, if one wants to be at the receiving end of such a narration. Willing, blissfully to be lost in such a romanticized version of the truth. Maybe I was at this end, but the deed was done.

I was very much engaged in this fantasy. Though it was a while before I could make this fantasy a movie in my own head. It was achieved and towards the end with somewhat a clumsy hurry. But it is something I do no regret. It is something that gives me joy, which I shall speak of later.

Pride and prejudice. Well, I was (I don’t know if I can say pleasantly) surprised to find a woman who led a simple life as can be, wrote such an exquisite classic by the mere faculty of observation, a keen observation of her era.

It has, ‘I quote again’, nothing so incredible in it, yet that is what makes it so fascinating. One can relate to each character without much difficulty.

I completely understand, the well-judged silence and character of Mr. Bennet. I understand the irony that made him so, his fallacy in believing his silly wife to be something else. Mrs. Bennet’s nerves are also something I have seen in my own life. Jane’s plain and kind character so far is the only one I cannot relate to. For I have not come across one person who finds it difficult to, not find fault or flaw or is willing to believe in the extreme good of another person at all. Eliza, the favorite daughter of her father, the heroine of the story. Clever, quite handsome and sensible Elizabeth. Her, I can connect to with more ease. Certain characters, the ruggedness, observation (at least emotionally) the strength of character, sensibility are all completely understandable. Yet, it is so tragic how cleverness and sense can be eclipsed by a prejudice, actually a lot of times. This is at once apparent when Ms. Eliza comes in contact with Mr. Darcy, as I said, the very handsome, proud gentleman of 10,000 pounds.

Jane Austen tingles this pleasure in me. A curiosity deepens when she writes about Darcy, by indeed writing so little about him and his countenance! It excites (at least it excited me) to read about Darcy and Eliza’s interactions. What fire would spew from Eliza, how Darcy would react! This more than anything attracted me to read on for I was curious to know, for a happy ending. I should mention here that my most excellent narrator friend’s words and my self confessed quality of being a romantic instigated, supported and furthered this curiosity. I must also say that though she narrated (my friend) rather simply to me this story, when we were almost overcome by fatigue and under the blankets of slumber, I merely remembered the outline.

Enter Wickhem. I was most troubled to think that there were all chances of Eliza not loving Darcy. That narrative indeed pulled me on.

One should also note here that I stick to Darcy, such a silent character, without too much information about him than with Wickhem, with all the description and speeches. Yes, Darcy, who barely uttered a word was and will always be my favorite.

Skip. When Ms. Eliza went over to lady Catherine’s, I had an inclination to think Darcy would follow. Yes, this thought had occurred when it was revealed, at the Bingley ball, that Darcy and lady C were indeed nephew and aunt. Instinct I should rather say. Nothing in my friend’s stuporous narrative prepared me for the proposal Darcy made to Eliza at the parsonage. She told me that Eliza would turn down his first offer, but little did I expect it to be like this.

Indeed I was outraged at Eliza’s behavior to my favorite, and even more indignant at Darcy’s manner of proposal and his damned pride!

A very shocking (to me pleasant) turn of events was Darcy’s letter to dear Lizzy. It drew me even more to his character, to see his composed and collected emotions and language.

I was distraught that Darcy’s pride along with the stupidity of Bingley’s sisters had broken up the pure love between Charles and Jane. But everyone has his faults, noted, pride being Darcy’s from the start.

It is strange to see that Darcy had overlooked Rank and manners in Eliza’s family, the reason for Charles and Jane’s separation, in his own case. It instigates one to think, can it really be love that drives the world. Eliza’s strength at the revelation at such a tedious letter from Darcy impresses to a great extent. Jane’s fallacy, at disbelief, at any wrong or evil in the world to this day annoys me. We can see that with this even, the prejudice in Eliza’s eyes slip. That she sincerely begins to fall in love with the very man who ruined the life of her sister, not for that act, but for whom he was.

I was annoyed as hell, um… Vexed at revelations about Wickhem’s character. I was thoroughly convinced of his deserving certain well-placed thrashings.

It is wonderful to see Eliza’s prejudiced notion of Darcy vaporize after her visit to ‘Pemberley’. Again, the romantic mind has had its feast in such situations. It is very pleasant to see their interaction. The changes in the protagonists, their yearnings and expectations of the other. Truly, a romantic heart is satisfied. Then comes the bomb.

It irritates me to the core to see the possibilities of existence of characters such as Lydia, Kitty and Mary (Well not Mary so much). Such weakness I’ve never tolerated, which deserts duty, gratitude and courage. Elopement, by my eyes is such a disgracefully cowardly act, I prefer not to talk on it. It pained me to see the family in a situation as that. Though inexperienced at it, I could empathize with their family in the situation, that in my stead I would have done more to keep the couple away. Lydia and Wickhem’s insolent and foolish characters and acts deserve no further words.

It is very mysterious as to how the matter was solved by an uncle who was only better off financially, than the Bennets, by a grade. Silence, in my mind, from Darcy provoked the matter further.

A letter, after Liza’s inquiry, from her aunt only brings a pleased smile on my lips and warmth to my heart.

It only aches more for Darcy and Eliza to unite after this. The pang that it may not happen only burdens when lady Catherine pays a visit to Eliza on her mission to dissuade the union.

Bingley and Jane’s reconciliation only adds fuel to the fire of agony. For now it is plain that Eliza’s heart, free from prejudice, truly loves and yearns for Darcy. All that is good and deserving in him. That smile widens when I look back to see all that Darcy did for his beloved Eliza in complete silence.

When at last Darcy mentions; in his manner; that naught has changed in his heart or offer since his first proposal I finally sighed relieved. Here on I only read with a pleased grin playing on my face and fell more in love with Darcy’s character than before. This silent, strong man, less proud by now, opens his heart so innocently, with such affection, respect and civility to the one he loves as life. Never have I witnessed such a character in reality.

Reading of Elizabeth as Mrs. Darcy is a funny feeling I should say, but one cannot be happier than I at the union. His undeterred affection, love and respect for her words are honorable to say the least.

AS for the authoress, I don’t know if I can call myself one yet, I recognized from the complexity but still exquisite simplicity of the plot, but not language, that it was her first attempt. An action by all means similar to mine. It is recognized in the very book that she related herself to Eliza and Jane to her own sister.

It is written in such a style that anyone with sense, well actually anyone, who reads it, recognized more with Eliza than the others. AT least I did.

In today’s world it is a funny notion to only wake up, read, sew, sing, draw, dance at balls, gossip about marriage, neighbors and flirt outright (with civility I should add), eat and sleep. The matters of importance, to the lady of the house was in getting her daughters well settled. It is funny in today’s demanding world, to see, that in that time, all the groom need be was rich, amiable and handsome!

The concept of staying over at a cousin’s or friends for so long a time, on invitation, is unheard of today. It is a matter of pride!

But it was a thoroughly refreshing experience. My vocabulary, passion for writing, sense and ability to take something more seriously has taken a shot on the arm.

It is even more exciting and very depressing at the same time, a painful pleasure one could call it, Jane Austen’s style of leaving to the reader completely, the handsomeness, countenance, look and color of each actor in the story. It is a boon to be able to let the character assume form as one desires, but to have no concrete base, the uncertainty that our description has all possibilities of not coinciding with the authoress is a bane! For, an imagination which runs wild as mine sometimes needs controlling.

Happier is the life after, pride and prejudice. But truly a lesson to be learnt is happy is only that life, without (in recommended quantities)

Pride and Prejudice.

Flight of the Steel Bird

There's a time when fate and faith meet. Then miracles happen. Then happiness seduces all into bliss.

Bliss... here we fathom that it is only the unfathomable complexities of both fate and faith in life that brew happiness.

There's probably a good reason why it was delayed. There is undoubtedly a boon in learning to fly late, when one can understand, experience, take pleasure and cherish all that one sees, believes and does.

There's probably a good reason why the meeting of fate with faith was delayed, but it happened, the miracle. A maiden voyage.

Miracles don't come easy. A rough start. Patchy weather, maintenance, conditioning all of them matter in a flight. All the elements were against the start. Temperature fluctuated, irretrievable objects were hurled at the last moment, shields were raised, efficiency took a blow and so did the conditioning. But those things would not be a match to the faith; those things could not stand tall in fate's game.

Come what may, they say. In a lighter sense... in comparison to the joy, the happiness,,, the experience, all was overcome. She had come, the beautiful daylight with the mighty sun, peeping with her tenderness though the gray clouds in assurance. The much awaited day, the maiden flight, My maiden flight.

Then they decided, fate and faith, 'we’ve played enough, the time has come. Fly.'

Tender disappointment was over come with the bliss in the agreement.

The rough Road seemed a road of butter in the happiness; it melted away at my feet as i gained the momentum. I have learned to fly and now,,,, I fly.

Smooth with all the precision that was expected of me, I glided. The tiny jolts did not matter, I simply spread my wings and soared. Climbing higher the earthly sights melted away. I could see the sun and yet shivered. I was one with the wind when I was not so. The paradoxes played the role of reality if that was possible. I flew.

Rising steadily higher, calmness greeted me. Serenity was all around. Corruption and malice nowhere in sight, I soared higher, reaching the highest an earth bound soul can dream of. The highest I have reached the fastest I have dreamt, I spread my wings leaving behind reality, leaving behind my home.

At 37000 feet, soaring was more swimming than flying. I was amongst white cotton candy drifting in peace, cheering me on, parting way at my arrival, smiling and gleaming gloriously behind me in the sea of blue skies. A drop of brown was not to be seen. I was closer to the cosmos than I could afford any day. Above me, though I could not see, I knew she watched me in silent amusement that parents smile with at a toddler's antics.

I smiled back; I knew luck was with me. But apparently fate had decided to prolong her game for amusement. The sun he gleamed, the clouds they drifted, daylight she smiled, but the wind,,,, she blew.

Humility is the trait of good upbringing. Humility a necessity not an accessory. But in all words spoken for the truth, I am and will be but a humble nobody in comparison to the giants of the sky sea. Apparent it was at the entrance to my miracle, that I was an amateur, stepping into the turf of giants, and those of sylphs.

The awe at the sight of preparatory procedures for the giants as they stood there tall, long and with silent majesty, duty bound and proud, even if it was the smallest of giants, gave me away. With amusement again she smiled down at me, cosmos.

But a gentle giant I can call myself in comparison to the swift sylphs and the powerful lords. Sturdy build and majestic wings were a gift even one as me was blessed with. Fate, she decided games done, I would be tested here, more than anything. She told the wind, 'Let's see what happens.'

My sturdy wings of metal stiff to earthly conditions, flapped like mica under her force. She blew and danced about me with all her might. She rocked my fuselage up and down. But learning from the giants, I was duty bound. I ploughed on and she eased up. I ploughed on wondering, if my wings of strength bowed to her might, how then would a tiny sparrow sway, how then would they soar to her strength and then she gave me a break.

Fate and faith they smiled again, the exhilaration was back. The ecstasy indescribable.

The joy, oh it made me forget why it was that I was denied this happiness till this blessed day.

The rush of excitement continued to replenish my joy, the lightheadedness continued to spark silent laughter within. For it recurred to me at various moments that I was the show and not the audience.

Disbelief battled with certainty, but I soared on.

The wind she kept her watch on me. Turbulence wasn't to be an issue. The maiden flight was decided by fate to go well, that I knew, and so it would be. Now I watched the cotton candy gleaming a royal gleam, I cherished the vastness of the world, however insignificant I seemed. So I moved on, new places to come, though indistinguishable from above greeted me with treasure for a memory.

A sea of lone blue serene and strong beckoned me on elusively as I reached out, the sea of lone cotton candy they gathered as a kind to purify all the world behind me white.

So there I soared swift as any bird would dream, now aided by the wind and the sun and even the pure white sea. With not a soul around, the world to myself I flew, then alone did I realize, good things are few.

My miracle she came, but then sometime she had to end. And so I neared my destiny feeling 'quite out of the blue'.

Fate and faith they cheered me on, 'don't worry, you ain't through.' Tenderly she smiled and nodded to fate, ' she will be back again.' fate laughed, ' yes my dear, shiny as she ever can.'

So now they cheered me even more, my candy friends of sea, the wind she kissed me tenderly and guided my wings to safety. As I soared to the world, bid them a short adieu. 'I will be back, fresh and we begin anew.'

Now I felt the world call out, she pulled me closer to her still. She gave me a butter roadway, so I would feel again the thrill. Smooth I landed because of that and of my teacher's skill. Rumbling gently along, till I finally could stand still.

Boon and the bane

My day of blindness…. (Make that half a day)

It simply started out as a lazy day where my lil bundle of terror (in the form of my kitten) woke me up with her clawing away at my hand, out of hunger. The simple solution was to drag her away and thrust her at my dad, who takes better care of her than he has ever bothered for me (sad to say). Ah, back to my cozy bed for a few more hours of sleep.

A lazy stretch after waking and getting ready, I walked out to my mum, whose delicious coffee my (mind more like) taste buds were itching for, only to have my kitten. Christened ladoo, throw herself at my ankle and gnaw away at my jammies. Cute.

Cursing my cable provider for ruining my life, and driving it to complete boredom by cutting off any channel that gave solid information, I turned to my computer as usual for solace. I blared my favorite list on the speakers and checked mail etc. Alas that didn’t keep me occupied for too long. Oh yeah I remembered I had to take my bike out to service. Going down I pestered dad to take me to the ophthalmologist, cos of the trouble my eye was giving me.

Driving has always given me immense pleasure, a sense of power and freedom. I’m still waiting for the day I buy my first Bike. Hmmm…. Anyways, he was very particular about dropping my scooter off before heading to the doc. At the time I thought he was just being stubborn as usual! Little did I know why he insisted on it at the time.

My newfound ophthalmologist is a retired professor from a well-known college here.
And going to him was less a visit to the doctor and more a visit to your old grandpa.
Well, chortling away his joke about my age he made me take the usual reading tests.
All the way through except for the last line…. Dang.

Then came the shocker that I didn’t react outwardly to. Dilating my pupils. Yikes. The last time I had to undergo this torture the dratted doctor ( the old supposed doc who I went to before grandpa ^o^) diagnosed me for the wrong power and almost ruined my eyes ( given cos of my obstinacy about not wearing the dorky glasses I had picked out, I saved my eyes!) and it gets better. He practically blinded me for two days.

Everything was blurred. I knew where I was going, what I was seeing. But nothing had a definite shape. And this was around 6 years ago people when I had lesser life than I do now. I couldn’t do anything… not even TV! (sob).

This time around it wasn’t so bad. I could see everything…. Everything far off that is. He had diagnosed me for distance vision, thereby completely obscuring everything within a foot around me.

That was when I realized the pain it was to be blind. I know its exaggeration, but hey this made me realize a lot. The time I spent sitting there waiting for the medicine to dilate my pupils, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t use my phone, I had no idea of who was and wasn’t in the room. Not even if my own dad was there still. In the time that I was sitting there, I thought of the things that I really wanted to see then. I so badly wanted to see the bikes and cars out on the street. I wanted to see my dad’s bike. I wanted badly to be able to type out a message to my friends on my phone despite being charged for it. I wanted to call my mum and tell her that we would be delayed cos of the tests that I was to take.

Nothing. I wanted badly to see the face of my scrawny little kitten as she bounded up to me to attack my leg, to see her scratching away at my feet, and then stare up at me with those cute big green eyes as though she was an innocent angel. I wanted to go right out to my computer and draw out my most favorite character in my story. I wanted to see all the colors I thought were just so beautiful, marvels of life. I even had the urged to pick up my textbook for Physics of Materials and read through it.

Then did I realized how many things in my life I enjoyed merely because of my sight.

The things I had taken for granted. The things I was able to do independently all because I was blessed with near perfect sight (come on people I can see a bus at the end of the road and tell you what it say, who cares what the doc says!). I am able to do everything.

Groom myself to my satisfaction; get around to wherever I want. I have the option of choosing what I want to and don’t want to see. I have the option of seeing what the world is like, be it biased or even if I’m seeing just a fraction of it. I am able to express my creativity with color because I have vision. I realized how important color and shapes were in my life…. And the same extrapolates to everything to do with me.

My music defines me and I know now for fact that without being able to listen to my songs on the mp3 player my sister so lovingly bought me, as the drab journey to my university back and forth lolls on, I’d become mad instantly.

Yes it was for merely half a day I spent visionless…. But then the smallest interval of time is enough to make one realize what it is he has and what he is taking for granted.

I know for sure without my vision, hearing and speech I’d have gone mad. I understood what Helen Keller was trying to tell us. I found it terribly difficult for a day, I can only imagine what it is like to go through life, for those unfortunate souls who don’t have these faculties.

Seriously, you don’t know what you’ve had till its gone… don’t let that be. I’ve learnt that now, in half a day of blindness.