Colors of Life

I turned a blind eye towards all doors which were shut before me, and those which were open, I entered blindly, literally. They call it Leber's congenital amaurosis. The first time I felt my Father’s tears was on the day I had my convocation. Next phase of my life was to get into a job and retire my father from his sweeper’s job. The day when I would feel good about the fact that our municipal road is untidy. We were almost at the venue. He was more nervous than me. As always he did not express. He waited outside the gate, despite my repeated request to wait in the lobby of the building where I had my interview. My fellow candidates told me that the building was posh; it made no difference to me.

Few hours went by and I came out of the building. It was easier to visualize colors than to hurt my father. I thought of all lies that I could think of. How could I tell him, they weren’t’ ready to interview me because I was blind. How could I tell him, that the post graduation degree disqualifies me even from the sweeper’s job, which I might otherwise get. As I approached the gate, he caught my hand and asked how it went. I said “It went fine. Let’s hope for the best”. He paused for a second and said “Heard that, the profile is not very good. Let’s not take it up, even if you get.” He laughed aloud; a warm tear drop fell on my hand. We walked back home, he holding my hands and my walking stick touching his...