My rendezvous with spectacles

S

pectacles…eeeek!  They indeed make a queer spectacle of you.  Oh how I hated them!  But of course, when the time comes, one has to put up with the detestable things. That’s where the story begins…

            I grew up basking in the glory of no specs in the family.  Even at 80, my great aunt would read without them.  Most often I'd find myself magnanimously helping the less fortunate with deciphering the seemingly invisible letters.  Then, I came across the adage, “Boys don’t make passes at girls, who wear glasses”, and once more felt elated about promising (rosy) days to come!  I promptly fell in love, and married a guy who, to my utter despair, wore glasses just a year after we tied the knot!  I swallowed my pride, and carried on with the vestiges of its waning bits.

Reaching 40, I was forced to visit the eye specialist, with a strange allergy of my eyes.  My near and distant vision was just perfect.  But the allergy bothered me all along.  All local and systemic medications proved futile, and the final verdict came – I was to wear tainted plain glasses, to protect my dust and photo-sensitive eyes!  Grrr!  I rushed about frantically seeking a second, a third and a fourth opinion.  But none could rule out the verdict.  At last, with heavy legs, I made my way to the most detested ‘place’ and after trying out almost all of the frames, settled for one (sic) that would salvage my sinking personality.

So one dull day (though the sun shone bright, I failed to see anything great about it), I crept out with the offending stuff perched on my nose.  “Good morning Madam” It was the guard at the gate, clicking to his heels as he proudly saluted me……Saluted me??  I couldn’t digest it! This bloke had always looked the other way when anyone passed by.  Was he mocking at me?  Anyhow putting on a wan smile, I returned the salute and cautiously walked on.   Soon came many more real and respectful greetings.  I began to feel at ease and my sinking spirits began to lift…

Days passed.  A new facet of my personality began to dawn on me.  The offending spectacles had added a feather to my drooping cap!  I seem to have been added to the mature and respectable category of homo sapiens.  Today I have the vigour and vitality that I never knew I possessed.  I feel more confident.  I’m taken more seriously and what more, my students and colleagues and even my seniors think twice before acting ‘funny’ with me!  

Hey, now where did I leave my wonderful glasses?  To think that I’d detested these lovely things in those days!  Hats off to my precious glasses! 

21 Jun 1996