Blinds and Blindfolds.

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I was sitting in the dining hall. Dinner time. I had managed myself a clean plate, a cheese cup with three standard pieces, the bigger dessert plate and all the rest that goes with it. (I am not a glutton, but that’s the way it is in a hostel. We take the bigger share even though we are going to leave it anyway.)   

In came this senior of mine. I do not know his name. but I have managed to find out he is doing his M.A. and that he is blind. By birth (though I am not sure). He came and stood beside me. there was no chair. I pulled one in for him and offered a seat. Next as usual he called the bearers and asked them for the plates and usual.  He was given his share, callously though. After a few dips of the roti in the cheese cup he felt uncomfortable. I didn't ask why. I saw. There was no cheese to his share. Only gravy.

I looked back into my plate. I didn't feel like eating anymore.

Blinds and Blindfolds.

I met a blind old man one day

A blind by birth was he

But still he lived and loved and laughed

In a world he could not see.

I too was blind, but not as old

Nor deep as he could be

When I could see the blues and green

He saw the dark in me.

And so I asked, “never have you known

The world, its myriad hue.

How do you know if green is green

If I’m not dark, it’s you?”

“You’re right my friend,” he said at length,

“Dark I am, I know.

But don’t you see, the green you mean

Could just as well be blue?

Your visions are colored, you've been taught

That green is green and friends are foe.

And yet I see, as well you can’t

You are me, and I am you.  

‘Cuz I as blind and you blindfolded

Argue of meanings, grace.

You run, you fall, you cry, you call

And curse this uphill race.

But I care not, and it don’t matter

For green be green and red be blue

I see darkness ‘cuz the world is dark

I know that now, & so will you…”

 

                                                                                  --- kafir.