I was not more than fourteen at that
time when I first saw him. He was simply standing there, staring
back at me, a rather peculiar creature. I had heard a lot about
him. My mother would tell me stories about him. She would tell me
how brave he is, how magnificent he is, and so on. Sometimes, I
would tire of her stories, but I knew in my heart I wanted to
meet him. He sounded like someone I would want to see.
All my life, voices around me would speak of the world and its infinite beauty. I often tired of these descriptions, sometimes too verbose for my mental dictionary. I would try to picture the lush and dense jungles of the Amazon filled with infinite, undiscovered wonders; however, I simply couldn't.
To imagine something that cannot be imagined just seemed impossible to me.
Often locked away within the confines of my own mind, I would sometimes question whether what I see is reality or whether I am simply dreaming in a long, deep sleep, just waiting to be woken up.Thoughts were my paintbrushes and my mind, my canvas. In a few swift strokes, I would paint my mind with all forms of thoughts. I couldn't see myself painting these thoughts though. I didn't know what I would imagine.After all, what would a blind person know?
Yes, I was blind.The darkness that surrounded me would frighten me, but I grew accustomed to it. I befriended it. Darkness was the only thing that I could see and I never spent a moment away from it as it never did from me. Words that flew by my ears failed to stop and drop passport-sized photos in my mind to identify them by. I did not know what they symbolized or represented. I just knew what they meant but I could not picture their meaning. I did not even know what I myself looked like. I couldn't imagine.
An experimental eye operation changed my life. Something to do with cornea transplant or cataract or something, I don't know. What I do know is, moments later after the operation I woke up for the first time. My sleep was over. A new reality dazzled before my eyes. Shapes, colours, people, and much more. Words that were simply words had become so much more. And then I got off the bed and turned to face the "mirror".
I was not more than fourteen at that time when I first saw him. He was simply standing there, staring back at me, a rather peculiar creature : me.