He was on the other side of the road
tapping his cane in front of him
His eyes darting around the place
but never stopping
like the busy people on the road
who parted to make way for him
wearing sympathetic and pitying looks
but none stopping
I crossed the road
"Do you see a flower shop?"
"yes ,i can see it very well." I said
he held my hand and followed my path
He told me i was lucky
to be able to see
I told him he was lucky
for he couldn't see the sufferings
and the war,and the hatred
and the jealousy, and the enmity
I told him he was lucky
to be unable to see
He said i was lucky
to see the beautiful people
and look straight into their eyes
"For it is "as he put it
"when they look straight through you
that you understand the importance
of their glance,of the eye contact"
He told me I was lucky
to be able to see.
I told him he was lucky
as he couldn't judge people by looks
as he had no concept of beauty and ugliness
as for him everything was a "beautiful black"
a black so beautiful, so vivid ,so uncontaminated
It would embarass Arizona's waters
I told him he was lucky
to be unable to see
He told me i should savour
every moment i could see
the colours, the flowers
the beautiful rainbows
and the blue of the sea
He told me I was lucky
to be able to see
I told him it was better not to have eyes
than have myopic vision
that incessantly seeked transitory happiness
than to quest for happiness outside
while the true happiness lies inside
in accepting what you have
instead of complaining what you don't
I told him he was lucky to be unable to see
By that time
we reached the flower shop
He told me to pick the best flower
I picked my favourite one
handing it to me, he smiled
and said "Thank you for showing me the world
through your eyes"
