The lost eye
“Ma, if I were you, I’ll be
ashamed to live in this world. Get lost Ma. I can’t bear these nasty
looks and insults any longer,” Hari screamed. Mrs. Wilson assured
herself deep within and made up her mind to ignore these hurting words -
maybe for the millionth time.
 The cause for all these was, the inability of Hari to face the
insulting looks of the world, at the sight of his mother being gifted
with a hollow space in one eye. “Perhaps it was from birth or rather God
had deprived it her due to her sins,” Hari thought. Although he tried
several times to inquire from her the reason for her lost eye, she never
seemed interested in answering him.
True indeed, that his beloved mother crossed through immense thorny
paths bearing up all the difficulties in the course of educating him,
upbringing him to a noble position and in filling up the vacated space
of a father’s love in his life. But, why in the world should she be an
embarrassment to him? How far can he tolerate the insults piling up in
his life Hari wished that he never had a mother. He wanted to shut his
ears tight, whenever his friends called him the son of a one eyed
monster. He felt all these as a rock stumbling about obstructing him to
rise high in his life, soaring through his talents.
Days rolled into months and months into years. Hari had now grown
into a young man. Soon after his A/L he flew to Colombo a place he
fancied in his heart. He needed to live alone and face the world after
desolating his mother who tainted his prestige. He did not, in the
least, care about those noiseless tears of his mother flowing through an
ocean of grief. Life was now an easy going way with pearl white riches
reaching him in heaps. His hometown remained as a cemetery ground in his
inner mind.
What brought his dead thoughts back into life, was the letter from
his school inviting him for an Old Boys’ conference. Though his heart
ill-favoured the idea of going back home, his will-power submerged his
violent nature. Hari decided to attend the meeting. Soon after the
meeting was over, an inner voice stirred his desire to visit his mother.
Perhaps, for the last time. Before he could visualise himself wholly, he
found his feet walking along the gravel path, while old memories crowded
in his mind.
 His hut looked ignored and left uncared. The warm smile that welcomed
him from school in his young days remained unwelcoming today. The dusty
broken door screeched as he opened it. A crushed old paper lay on the
floor. He took it and read with a yearning heart.
It said:
“Dearest son,
I’m sorry deep heartedly for causing embarrassment to your prestigious
life. You see, while you were small, you lost your eye in an accident. I
could not bear to see my son growing with one eye. So, I gifted you
mine.
Yours,
Loving mother.
Hari felt a silent cry echoing in his ripped heart. A cuckoo cooed in
the nearby tree as if to console him with the words that ‘what is done
can’t be undone.’
- Fazlana Nizamdeen
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