By Ashvani Sachdev
Sunita had stubbornly refused to visit the blind school on her father’s first death anniversary
until her mother deployed her silver bullet, “Can’t you do it to give some happiness to his soul?
He is watching, I am sure.....”
She had glared at her mother, gritted her teeth, and stomped out of the room.
As she entered the bind school hall, to her right she saw a wall with a row of chairs along it on
which around two dozen children were seated shoulder to shoulder, facing to their front, their
backs to the wall. Her guide-cum-hostess led her to the first child, a boy, and looked at his face.
The boy had a bulging left eye, blotched and unmistakably sightless. His gaze was fixed to his
front betraying a lack of vision in his other eye too. She winced involuntarily, bending forward
a little as her stomach threatened to heave. Her right hand instinctively moved to her churning
stomach while she clenched her left hand tightly. She walked on, hurriedly shifting her gaze
away from the boy. The true implication of having been cajoled by her mother to visit that
blind orphanage impacted her and an ominous shiver ran down her back, even as she gritted
her teeth in resentment.
Later, she could not recall a word of what her guide had been explaining to her after they
entered the hall. She found the countenances of the children bordering on the hideous; her
inside compelled her to desist from looking at any of the faces, while a sense of duty implored
her to look at each of them. She felt that turning her back on the children would run contrary
to the spirit of her mission: a bit of charity for those “poor blind kids” on her father’s death
anniversary. She struggled with herself even as her guide babbled on, neither turning her back
upon them nor looking at them directly, studiously staring at the end wall of the hall while
pretending to pay attention to the guide.
The few steps from the beginning to the end of the line up seemed to her an interminable slog,
and her gaze continually darted towards the other end of the hall where an open door promised
escape from her ordeal. Her whole body craved to rush out of the room for a deep lungful of
air. The last chair in the row had a small girl, no more than three years of age, who sat staring
into infinity and seemed to be almost lifeless, like a stuffed toy. But as Sunita reached near her,
she suddenly reached out, her tiny paws outstretched and moving from one side to another as
if searching for something. Her outstretched fingers come into contact with Sunita’s hand and
her tiny palms clasped Sunita’s wrist with unexpected strength. Sunita stopped dead,
nonplussed. The out of the blue assault unnerved her completely and her heart missed a beat.
She stood still, turning to look at the girl. Her face was angelic in all respects except her eyes
which were opaquely milky and reminded Sunita vaguely of some vampire movie which she
had abandoned halfway due to the ghastly visuals employed to make the characters look
repelling. Sunita struggled with an impulse to prise her hand free and escape, but something
within her thwarted such endeavour. She turned and looked at the guide beseechingly and
waited to be rescued from her predicament, but the smiling guide seemed to find the situation
unalarming.
Sunita stood petrified for what seemed like ages to her, looking at the door that promised
escape, unsure of her next action. Should she wrench her hand free and bolt out of the hall? Or
ask her guide to help her? Or should she try to talk the little girl into relieving her hand? While
her mind numbly evaluated these courses of action, the little girl abruptly let go of Sunita’s
hand. Startled, Sunita looked down towards the girl in disbelief; the girl had now outstretched
both her arms towards Sunita in an unmistakable signal asking to be picked up.
Sunita’s face involuntarily contorted at the prospect of picking up that girl with those ghastly,
opaque eyes. She hastened to undo her facial expression and felt relieved that the girl could not
see her revulsion. But the girls’ outstretched arms and upturned face held Sunita in a
mesmerizing trance and, although out of the girl’s grip now, she felt unable to flee the scene
that so tormented her. Without warning, the girl smiled directly at Sunita.
As if driven by an external force, Sunita bent down distractedly and picked up the girl to support
her on one arm while the other gingerly cuddled her into snug safety. The girl freed both her
petite palms from the folds of Sunita’s dress and caressed them over Sunita’s face and hair.
Sunita noted the intent look on her face as she performed that scrutiny. Having completed her
examination, she let out a happy sigh, removed her palms from Sunita’s face, stretched out her
arms again, and clasped them around Sunita’s neck, her face gently resting on Sunita’s cheek.
Sunita waited, noting incredulously that her burning need to escape had vanished. Presently,
the girl unclasped her embrace and Sunita put her down on her chair. Then she knelt down in
front of the girl and reached out with her palms. On an impulse she shut her eyes while her
fingers gently caressed the girl’s lissome face, replicating the girl’s action of some moments
ago.
An indescribable emotion resonated through her and unrepressed tears escaped her eyes
silently.
She felt sure her father was watching.
By Ashvani Sachdev
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