Hi
This story kept me absorbed till almost end..but when I read last
stanza….literally I felt like as my heart skipped a beat.
Indeed a master piece by Ruskin Bond.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Anjina Bhat" <[email protected]>
To: <[email protected]>
Sent: Friday, September 30, 2011 5:56 PM
Subject: [AI] The Eyes Have It
Dear folks
A touchy story ----just read this : Heart stealing story by Ruskin Bond
The Eyes Have It
-----------------------
I HAD THE TRAIN compartment to myself up to Rohana, then a girl got
in. The couple who saw her off were probably her parents. They seemed
very anxious about her comfort and the woman gave the girl detailed
instructions as to where to keep her things, when not to lean out of
windows, and how to avoid speaking to strangers.
They called their goodbyes and the train pulled out of the station. As
I was totally blind at the time, my eyes sensitive only to light and
darkness, I was unable to tell what the girl looked like. But I knew
she wore slippers from the way they slapped against her heels.
It would take me some time to discover something about her looks and
perhaps I never would. But I liked the sound of her voice and even the
sound of her slippers.
'Are you going all the way to Dehra? I asked.
I must have been sitting in a dark corner because my voice startled
her. She gave a little exclamation and said, I didn't know anyone else
was here.'
Well, it often happens that people with good eyesight fail to see what
is right in front of them. They have too much to take in, I suppose.
Whereas people who cannot see (or see very little) have to take in
only the essentials, whatever registers tellingly on their remaining
senses.
I didn't see you either,' I said. 'But I heard you come in.'
I wondered if I would be able to prevent her from discovering that I
was blind. Provided I keep to my seat, I thought, it shouldn't be too
difficult. The girl said, I am getting off at Saharanpur. My aunt is
meeting me there.'
"Then I had better not get too familiar/ I replied. 'Aunts are usually
formidable creatures.'
'Where are you going?' she asked. 'To Dehra and then to Mussoorie.'
'Oh, how lucky you are. I wish I were going to Mussoorie. I love the
hills. Especially in October.'
'Yes, this is the best time,' I said, calling on my memories. "The
hills are covered with wild dahlias, the sun is delicious, and at
night you can sit in front of a log fire and drink a little brandy.
Most of the tourists have gone and the roads are quiet and almost
deserted. Yes, October is the best time.'
She was silent. I wondered if my words had touched her or whether she
thought me a romantic fool. Then I made a mistake.
'What is it like outside?' I asked.
She seemed to find nothing strange in the question. Had she noticed
already that I could not see? But her next question removed my doubts.
'Why don't you look out of the window?' she asked.
I moved easily along the berth and felt for the window ledge. The
window was open and I faced it, making a pretence of studying the
landscape. I heard the panting of the engine, the rumble of the
wheels, and, in my mind's eye I could see telegraph posts flashing by.
'Have you noticed,' I ventured, 'that the trees seem to be moving
while we seem to be standing still?'
"That always happens,' she said. 'Do you see any animals?'
'No,' I answered quite confidently. I knew that there were hardly any
animals left in the forests near Dehra.
I turned from the window and faced the girl and for a while we sat in
silence.
'You have an interesting face,' I remarked. I was becoming quite
daring but it was a safe remark. Few girls can resist flattery. She
laughed pleasantly—a clear, ringing laugh.
'It's nice to be told I have an interesting face. I'm tired of people
telling me I have a pretty face.'
Oh, so you do have a pretty face, thought I. And aloud I said: 'Well,
an interesting face can also be pretty.'
'You are a very gallant young man/ she said. 'But why are you so serious?'
I thought, then, that I would try to laugh for her, but the thought of
laughter only made me feel troubled and lonely.
'We'll soon be at your station/ I said.
'Thank goodness it's a short journey. I can't bear to sit in a train
for more than two or three hours.'
Yet I was prepared to sit there for almost any length of time, just to
listen to her talking. Her voice had the sparkle of a mountain stream.
As soon as she left the train she would forget our brief encounter.
But it would stay with me for the rest of the journey and for some
time after.
The engine's whistle shrieked, the carriage wheels changed their sound
and rhythm, the girl got up and began to collect her things. I
wondered if she wore her hair in a bun or if it was plaited. Perhaps
it was hanging loose over her shoulders. Or was it cut very short?
The train drew slowly into the station. Outside, there was the
shouting of porters and vendors and a high-pitched female voice near
the carriage door. That voice must have belonged to the girl's aunt.
'Goodbye/ the girl said.
She was standing very close to me. So close that the perfume from her
hair was tantalizing. I wanted to raise my hand and touch her hair but
she moved away. Only the scent of perfume still lingered where she had
stood.
There was some confusion in the doorway. A man, getting into the
compartment, stammered an apology. Then the door banged and the world
was shut out again. I returned to my berth. The guard blew his whistle
and we moved off. Once again I had a game to play and a new fellow
traveller.
The train gathered speed, the wheels took up their song, the carriage
groaned and shook. I found the window and sat in front of it, staring
into the daylight that was darkness for me.
So many things were happening outside the window. It could be a
fascinating game guessing what went on out there.
The man who had entered the compartment broke into my reverie.
'You must be disappointed/ he said. 'I'm not nearly as attractive a
travelling companion as the one who just left.' 'She was an
interesting girl/ I said. 'Can you tell me—did she keep her hair long
or short?'
'I don't remember/ he said sounding puzzled. 'It was her eyes I
noticed, not her hair. She had beautiful eyes but they were of no use
to her. She was completely blind. Didn't you notice?
Tags : Heart stealing story by Ruskin Bond
--
Anjina
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