Eyesight

by newrana

eye-sght

Everyone was laughing louder,

biting their lips and rolling their eyes

like actors in an Attic comedy;

mother was sitting, with her head down

groaning, mumbling

and pleading not guilty.

A visitor was sitting, biting his nails

and frowning down at innocent ants.

“She has put Urea into the tea-cup,”

my sister announced with her head high;

all the pandits nodded their heads

assuring of my mother’s folly.

That was only a decade ago.

 

Five years went by

without any major incident

when suddenly,

she repeated her folly

– a narrow escape –

by squeezing a common krait

in the kitchen sink,

assuming it to be a dried stick.

Everyone was sure of her stupidity.

 

My eyesight is now too weakened,

and while reading, even with

my goggle-like eye glasses,

I’ve begun to miss even jumbos.

Then I see my wife look at me

wearing that Tiresias’ sinister mockery,

assuring me of my own folly

and all those pandits,

who mock at human misery.

 

Long live the queen!

She’s now in her late eighties.

 

Photo: Pixabay

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