Dry Eyes

 Years back. Once a gentleman knocked at our door with a bundle of print-outs. He said, that my name was referred to him, by some of his friends in SNDT College, as a poet. He wanted a favour from me. He said that his wife was an English lecturer, and was very keen on writing poems. But she had dry eyes. It advanced so much, that she was turning blind and she had to quit her job. In spite of her painful eyes, she went on writing poems till her end. She had passed away a few months back.

He said, just for the memory of his beloved wife, he wanted to publish, her poems as a book. As he did not have any knowledge, about poems etc he approached me. He just requested, that I should classify and arrange the poems, in some groups, as they were just an assorted cluster. He left the file with me; and left promising to come after two days.

I took the poem file and started reading. One after another, all those poems were so heart-wrenching cry. The cry of a bleeding heart, a human being tortured every single minute. All the poems were nearly of the same feelings. My heart wept on finishing.

I just star

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ted wondering how can all 62 poems cry in the same voice. He says she had dry eyes. Is that true? Why a comfortable living lady, had to write only about torture?

After 2 days, when he came back, I returned the file to him. I told him that there was no need for any classification. They were all too good as it is. He can print it. He left.

Years had rolled by. Yesterday one of my FB friends, told me that he has dry eyes and hence he wears glasses all the time.

Instantly, my heart went back to the past memory. My heart still thinks of that poor soul, who wrote all those voices of extreme pain. Is it true, that she wrote only for the sake of her love for the poem? Or is it that she wanted the world to hear her voice? The voice of females like her? Is it that the husband, later tried to reduce the guilt of his own ill-treatment, by publishing her book?

He did not send me a copy as he promised. I still keep wondering, why he did not give me a copy of the book. Nor, did I see those poems published anywhere! I think these questions will ever remain with me and will never be answered.