I did say the next one would bear the title "I Have a Heart." But I had to change it. I do have a heart, though I have yet to give proof of it, so don't think I am heartless. 

Maybe it is good to be predictably unpredictable. So, no one who reads—I will be happy even if one reads this! —can analyze and criticize. Just kidding. No work will sustain without healthy criticism.

What is in a name? What is "Sightless Vision"? Maybe I owe an explanation. I was born with some deformities in my eyes. How did I know? The doctor told me when I was five years old, and I had to trust them. The developments that led me to the doctor are, in themselves, vital moments embedded in my life. Five was the age when we were first shown what a school was. I had never heard of kindergartens, and kids going to them or to daycare even before they started crawling, scooting, or sitting. I was not doing well in my class. A disclaimer: this does not suggest that I had done exceptionally well at later stages either.

The teachers in those days—the early 1950s—took great interest in every child. It was my teacher, Ms. Sarojini, who noticed some problems with my eyesight, not my parents. That is why I remember her name even after 70 years. And that is how I ended up with the top ophthalmologist in India, a doctor to the President of India. I vaguely remember his name but don't want to cause any unintended insult by misnaming or mispronouncing him.

Here is the wonderful thing: he told my parents bluntly that I had a serious issue and that my sight would keep deteriorating, ultimately leading to blindness—perhaps. Three steps were suggested:

1. Taking absolute rest with minimum movements for daily chores for at least one year. No school, no play, nothing.

2. Eating a few almonds soaked overnight in water for the rest of my life, along with Vitamin A supplements.

3. Reading ONLY specially printed books.

The third could never be followed. Even 25 years later, I could not find large or special print books. The first two suggestions my parents followed very religiously... for a week! Then I was back to my normal self, walking, stuttering, running toward the inevitable darkness that would shroud me in my old age.

Only a decade ago, one of my doctors gave a definition and a name to the condition with which I was born: a pathological deformity of the eye from birth. To remember this name, I wrote it down hundreds of times so that it stayed in my memory.

Interestingly, whispers always floated around me from parents, relatives, and friends, espousing various theories. One was that some wrong drops were applied to my eyes at birth. The second, in the tradition of the belief I belong to, was that my mother had watched a lunar eclipse when I was still cosily swimming around in her tummy. At later stages, when I started having brushes and close encounters with spirituality, I got a third, unshakeable reason: karma. The more I think about this, the last one appeals to me. It gives me peace and the resolve not to commit the blunders I may have in my earlier births. Why stop there? Commit no blunders at all, at least from here on. This concept is truly wonderful. I will try my best to gain more insights into it and write about it later, if I can.

So, the effects of my bad eyes—how they progressed, or should I say, how they progress? It started with extensive cryotherapy in both eyes on the retina to prevent detachment. It is somewhat like welding the retina. Then, in my thirties, cataract surgery. They called it juvenile cataract! At 35! No lens implant was possible then. So after the first surgery, I ended up with normal glasses on one eye and a contact lens in the other. One was concave, and the other convex. Imagine the confusing image that would be formed on the retina! But it did not stop there. This was followed by glaucoma. And one of the doctors I was consulting at that time, very unfortunately, diagnosed it very late. A sizable chunk of vision was lost. This was followed by retinal detachment and a failed surgery. And, as a crowning glory, bleeding in the only eye I was left with.

Why am I boring you? Just to tell whoever reads this: please take care of your precious eyes and those of your family. Especially with kids in modern times, who are prone to having some eye defects at a very early age. Consult a doctor, follow their advice, and then let the One Above take it from there.

So, although I lost my sight, my vision for the future remained intact. Not that I was a great visionary, but whatever little I wanted to do, I will try my best to do.

Sometimes visions and dreams mingle. I had a great impulse to write a book loosely based on my life. I had even spoken with a representative of a book publisher. Then I realized this was a dream, not a vision. Without travel, without research, how does one write a book? So maybe I started this.

I will keep jumping from one topic to another. My mind is a very active monkey. As you try to relax in a recliner, your mind wanders like clouds in the vast space arena. And then suddenly, you hold on to a fleeting thought and say, "This is it. I will write on this."

No more big ones. I will keep them short. A promise. If you still think I am heartless, I will prove otherwise.

To be continued... 3. I have a heart