The Interview 5

Blind Man: How do you cope? I mean, don’t you have panic attacks?

Oculist: I do, very frequent in fact. I get so scared that I shut my eyes forcefully for almost an hour while I try to wipe my mind of the things i’ve seen.

Blind Man: What have you seen?

Oculist: I’ve seen so many beautiful things, beautiful places and amazing faces. I’ve had fabulous moments as well. But i’ve also seen the most terrible and shadows of the worst afflictions. I remember the last boy I saw, he was just about 21, tall, handsome, good muscle, fine face, clean shave and bright ebony skin. He’d been suffering from a tragic blinding eye condition for a long while till he finally lost his sight. I couldn’t help him. No one on earth can help him. I’m just a few years older than him. I didn’t feel lucky I could see, I felt fragile. I didn’t cry either, but my heart sank. I watched his fragile father lead him out of the room. I panicked. I also remember the 74 year old grandma who had already gone blind for a few year now. She would hear of the hospital and begged her neighbour to bring her. She came with a smile. She glowed with hope. But her condition had no hope. She said the same thing over a hundred time. I want to see my son, I want to see. I didn’t know how to tell her her condition had no cure and that she’s doomed to darkness. I watched the fire that light up her face extinguish. She couldn’t bear the Truth. I panicked. I thought of old age and panicked. I also remember vividly a beautiful 24 year old, fair skinned, long haired lady. She simply represented beauty. She told me how about a year ago she was still able to drive around city, but now she can’t even see her own fingers. Her equally young petrified husband couldn’t be a man with all the news that not a thing will she ever be able to see. I was petrified as well. I panicked. And this is but a few of the scenarios I encounter everyday of the week. My weekend are filled with severe panic moments.

Blind Man: I try imagine what this light you speak about is like. I was born blind, so no hurt ever came when I hear of people and how they came to be blind. I presume the hurt comes from losing what you’ve had.

Oculist: Yes, that’s the origin of the tears. I sometimes wonder what it feels like. I shut my eyes and try to move around my little parlour and my room. I hit my feet on the table severally, I poke the eyes of a sleeping gecko with my roving hands, I touch the wrong things so that I pick the spoon instead of the fork and then the fork instead of the spoon and I unintentionally pushed the mug so there is a loud chatter and then I step on glass particles and I bleed and I cry and I panic. I try to be blind but it’s harder than trying to be an astronaut.

Blind Man: You shouldn’t be like this. You’re destined to be a great oculist. A discoverer. A restorer.

Oculist: I feel so scared and fragile. Please pray for me. I hear blind people’s prayers never get rejected.

Blind Man: I will pray for you friend. I will.


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