The search was on. I searched everywhere. Where I should search for my glasses now? The ‘little brother’ was left somewhere some five minutes earlier.
My glasses are the ‘master’ of my self. I’ve got real prop from my ‘master’ to focus on the world as it presents itself - hard of good sight as I am.
If I sit on the glasses, or trip on them, they might get crushed making me blind.
I search around. A cleaning liquid bottle waits on the shelf. A neat, wet, velvety cloth, waits to be dried.
I grope everywhere, under the table, over the table, and on the bed. And lo, there lies my glasses, with its sighs, waiting for me, in a corner of the bed.
The day, finally, appears in its size, bright and proven.
It’s Dussehra time, folks! Yeah! Happy Dussehra!