My Eyes Are Closing

Not that I have ever taken my eyesight for granted; after all, it contributes to one of my most appreciated senses, and despite all the ugliness that I have seen over the years, the beauty that my eyes have had the chance to behold, over that same span, are considered remarkable and priceless.

But my eyes are closing, and I cannot do much about it.

I was 35 years old when I accompanied my eyeglass-wearing fiancé to the Optician for a routine check-up; as anticipated, she needed thicker lens and was prescribed. But as we were getting ready to leave, the Optician asked, “What about you, sir?”

I was a little astonished by his question which was obviously directed to me, and asked my very own question in response, “What about me?”

He then pleasantly clarified his question and said, “Care for an eye test, it’s free.”

I was more than confident that my eyes were fine and I would not need any glasses, but with him insisting and my fiancé supporting the suggestion, I eventually hopped into his chair and commenced the test.

And after a few minutes of lens changing and identifying letters and colours, the test was completed.

Again I confidently await the results of what I already knew, but unfortunately, my confidence was shattered with an opposing result. Without realizing, my sight was gradually leaving me and what I thought had been clear views of the world were actually being fuzzed and dulled, all this time, and I have been accepting it as shades of reality.

According to the Optician, it wasn’t a crisis of near blindness or anything of that extremity, but I had to know that my Beautiful Browns which have been working so hard over the years in assisting me to see, were getting old and tired just like I was, whether or not I was ready to accept that fact.

Adjusting to glasses was not so hard, I believed that I took comfort in the fact that it made me appear more intellectual rather than old. So, for the next few years, my face was jazzed up with Designer Glasses; my first pair was Police, then I had Calvin Klein, then it was a pair of Dolce and Gabbana and now I’m onto Bvlgari.

Last month, three years after my last test, I went for another and yes my eyes are closing; my sight has once again decreased by a small percentage.

It reminded me of the movie Ray, and how the Director executed and captured the visual diminishment of Ray’s sight, which must have taken more than a week, but was displayed to viewers within a two-minute frame.

Even though in the film, sight loss was deemed as a medical condition and not one caused by ageing, which is expected in human development, with that thought I realized that my need for glasses also secretly held a beauty of its own.

My Beautiful Browns were gradually dimming in concurrence with my body as I graduated through my living years; it is like a performance of silent art, with a perfect timing of an equal balance to every newly sprouted grey hair, every newly formed wrinkle to my once youthful skin, every loss of nerve and every tiring heartbeat.

My sight is telling me that I am getting older and all the beauty that they have seen and continue to see, along with the unfortunate ugliness of the world, are dimming as a sign and for a reason.

If life is a stage then all of what my eyes have captured were mere performances (like in a theatre) and as my eyes grow tired, one day they will eventually close, like the curtain of a stage, at the end of each performance.

“Our eyes are windows to our soul.”