The Bride Without Her Specs

The date was fixed,

The festivities were being arranged.

The goldsmith had been, the other day,

To the groom's house,

For the pon urukkuthal,

And the red koora had been bought.

Her heart just brought up the topic,

And her intelligent eyes behind those thick lenses,

Fixed within that Beta-Titanium frame,

Wondered for a moment in loneliness.

Those tired eyes,

After years of learning

And journeying pages of accountancy ventures,

Are blinking without an option.

Fuelled by the hired beautician

And the CCTV-Grandma next door,

Her Amma had ordered her not to;

Not to wear those precious pair of spectacles on the wedding day.

Even that Pandit "anty" with an MA in Public Criticism had pointed out the same

During her last visit for the Ethnographic study of the wedding arrangements.

Irritated and frustrated,

But understanding the purpose,

The young little accountant adheres to.

The poor girl was being filled

With powders and creams,

Foundations and fillers,

While her carefully-closed eyelids

Covered the eyes that awaited excitement.

The beautician, completing her session,

Bowed down like a magician,

Knowing she had performed

The cosmetic magic

Of turning a beautiful girl into a plastered doll.

Eyes opened,

And the first glimpses were blurred.

A closer look at the mirror again,

Made her feel the absence of her specs.

With a fake smile, and a controlled tear

She said a big "Yes"

To the beautician's last question.

Beautiful moments kept following

Throughout the day of her wedding,

But only as images within a blurred template,

Screened with the helplessness

Of controlling the brimming tears.

When the auspicious drums began playing,

They signalled the arrival of the man of her life.

She smiled, sensing his presence nearby,

Felt the warmth of his hand

As their parents handed them over to each other.

His herbal perfume reached her inner senses,

And her slender neck felt his finger tips

As he tied the knot with utmost concentration,

But her vision never saw that charming smile; that first smile of a new life.

No eye-to-eye words,

No fine details of anything,

But just an overview of everything.

Her pair of spectacles reached her hands,

Only during the dawn of the next day.

And she saw the peaceful and smiling face of her man for the first time,

In high deficiency,

Witnessing that charm of a newly-wed groom's pleasant smile.

Her nose and ears felt the normalcy once again,

As they held those precious pair of spectacles, after a long day of festivities.

But within that lapse of absence,

She had moved from one world to another,

And only her soul knows

How her heart felt,

As each of those moments went passing by,

Without the witness of her inner eye.

There was not a single clear image

Of her wedding day,

For her to treasure and savour.

And she awaits the photographer

To bring her the first good news,

As she observed with admiration

The only copy of yesterday's 'thank you' card.