by Shikshita Bhandari (072BCE152) (Pulchowk Campus)
“Hey, mom, where are my glasses?”
“I have thrown them in the trash.”
“Are you serious? How disgusting is that!?”
“Oh please, you’re the one telling? If a mother wants to deny her son’s fake blindness, then it’s fair and normal for everyone else in this world.”
“It’s a waste of time talking to you. I’m leaving. I will come home tomorrow. Bye.” (Slams the door behind.)
I am Karuna. A surgeon, in my mid-thirties who is very passionate about her work. I have a wonderful child, Saharsha. He cares for me just like my father. A perfect human, I’d say, if he didn’t have this weird desire for being blind. Yes, my son has BIID for which I am mad sometimes. But as I’m occupied by my work most of the time, I don’t think about it much.
“Are you staying here tonight?”
“Yup, my mom knocked me out of the house.”
“Damn. Why does she do that so often? Is she mental or what?”
“Don’t you dare say that. It’s true, we have some problems. But it’s nothing like that. I love her dude. The thing is she lags understanding when there is no surgery in something. All she cares about is her patients. Her days and nights go with the sight of the hearts and lungs. She travels around the globe for surgery. And I must be proud that the whole planet salutes her for her precise work. She tells me that she has never failed a single procedure. It’s just that she doesn’t understand me and that’s what hurts me.”
“Okay, I don’t have mine with me. She left me when I was seven. Ever since I have some kind of repulsion for moms.”
“It’s fine. Forget about it.”
“Let’s play PUBG. It’s been a while.”
“Sure. Let’s begin, buddy.”
I have always been a grateful human. After all, I’ve achieved most of the things in my life. When my mom asked me to marry Shailesh, I wasn’t ready. I was just 18. He was a 25-year-old doctor, serving in my village after getting his degree. It turned out that he liked me when I took my mom for regular checkups. I wanted to study medicine and he’d promised me that. So, we married. I joined IOM in scholarship. With time, I had an interest in surgery. After my studies, I valued my work the most. I’d say, “I have become a successful surgeon, but I failed to be a mother for my son.”
My husband has arrived and he is asking for his son. I tell him the truth. And as always, he is as silent as a grave. He is concerned about Saharsha more than anything in the world. He is his soulmate: he is the only one who understands Saharsha inside out. His strange desires are not so strange for Shailesh
I just had an accident. I can’t feel anything except life within me. God knows what’s in front of me. I was lucky: my husband was with his client in the car behind. He took me to the hospital as fast as possible. Honestly, I don’t want to live now. My eyes have left me. They are talking. I hear that my cornea has completely damaged. I was just at the start of my career and I wanted to serve till death did apart. My husband knows this in his heart. Right now, he’s convincing me. I don’t know how I’ll live, knowing that I won’t serve any human from now on. No surgeries in my life. My dreams have faded with the lights in my eyes
I am still in the hospital bed. And I can see my son coming in with a cane in his hand. His great father, Dr. Shailesh with him.
“Mom, how are you feeling?”
“Not good. And be out of my sight. I don’t want to see you here. Shailesh, I don’t want to talk to you either. You haven’t done anything right.”
“We are sorry, mom. We just wanted your eyes back. My eyes were meant for you, mom. They weren’t mine from the beginning. They were always yours. And you have to accept this. I am happy for what I am now. Remember mom, I used to look at the sun directly even when you told me those rays might damage my sight. I have always learned to be blind. It was always planned, this was how I’d lose them. It’s best for the both of us. I always wanted this mom. I had my world in brails. Please don’t do this to me. Talk to me.”
“(Crying) Saharsha, you have always been my charm. Yes, I can see now. But every sight will leave a wound in my heart, for these are the sights of my son. These eyes may provide lives to hundreds out there, but they will never give me the satisfaction I thrive for. Those grasses will never be green, neither will the sky be blue for me. Shall I be thankful to God for giving me a son like you or feel guilty for making her son blind? I don’t know. You, father and son, have burdened me with debts I can never pay back (tears flood her cheeks).”
Shikshita Bhandari
072BCE152
Pulchowk Campus