Different Eyes (continued)



	When he found the hospital, Abdul was surprised by its
size.  Built of unpainted red bricks, it brooded over tin and
bamboo thatched shanties.  A guard directed him to a smaller
building when he asked for help.  There a woman in a white saree
sat behind a counter.  She called to Abdul after speaking to
others who were ahead of him.  "What is it that you want?"
	Without hesitating Abdul replied, "I have an eye to
offer.  A healthy eye." 
	The woman, a little taken aback at his directness, waved
him to a chair.  He sat on the floor though.  After an hour, she
called to him again.  "Come, the doctor will see you now."  With
that she started walking down a corridor, Abdul scuttled after
her.  The long corridor was flanked with rooms on both sides. 
Most had their doors closed, but through the open ones, Abdul
saw sights that astonished him.  Fantastic machines hummed and
rumbled to each other.  People were attached to them - maybe
these patients, like him, had volunteered to let the machines
draw out their lives for money.  It was frightening to see that
the patients were alone
	They entered a large, square room.  Quite bare of
furniture, the first thing to hit the eye, besides a brilliance
of whiteness, was a huge metal bed.  There woman pointed to two
chairs neatly pushed into a corner.  Then she left.  Abdul never
sat on chairs.  But this time he lowered himself slowly, letting
his bones settle in place.  His legs dangled short of the floor
and the strange sensation of not having the firm earth there was
disturbing.  He was also unhappy with the idea of leaning back
on the chair and letting the thin back support all his weight. 
The chair did not have the solid assurance that a tree trunk
provided, nor the warm hardness of the earth.
	Soon, the woman returned.  But she was not alone any
more - behind her was a man.  He walked up to Abdul.  "So you
are here for an operation.  I believe that you are already aware
of the price list, it is 5,000 takas for one eye, 10,000 for
both.  Do you wish to offer one or both?
	Abdul hesitated, "Just one please."
	"I need to check it first, which eye?"
	"Any one, I will let you choose."
	The doctor then took a small light out of his pocket and
shone it on Abdul�s face.  He examined both pupils very
carefully, making Abdul uncomfortable.  It was as if the secrets
behind his cornea were being delved into.  He flinched as the
beam moved over the edges, then the centers, picking at the filmy
stretch of denial he was sheltering himself under.
	"Fine, it will not take long, just two hours.  But we
require that you spend the day here.  And you must also return
in three weeks so that we are able to treat any infections that
may occur.  If you do not report then, you cannot come later
claiming that you are sick.  The law requires that you sign a
form, if you cannot write, my assistant will let you sign with a
thumb print.  Understand?
	"Yes."  Abdul stared at the doctor, still taking in the
flow of words directed at him.  "I have only one question, how
do things look after the eye is out?  Can I still perform well
at everyday things?"
	The doctor blinked for a second at the question and
replied abruptly, "I do not know what things look like with one
eye.  Our patients are able to continue in their ordinary lives,
unless of course, they happen to need both eyes for something
special.  But I do not think you need to worry about anything,
what do you do?"
	"I grow crops."
	"Then there's no problem.  We will operate in a few
hours." 
	Abdul nodded his head as the doctor walked out.  The
woman then led him back through the corridor to another room. 
But this time Abdul found himself in near darkness and his
vision adjusted slowly. 
	He found himself in a small room that smelled of dirt. 
But it was not the grimy stench of the city, it was the earthy
musk of the country.  There were benches along the four walls
and on them were seated two women and a man.  Three more men and
a woman were sitting on the ground.  None of them were talking,
and in the deep silence he felt their eyes rest on him.  There
were a few villagers, on benches as well as on the floor.  They
reeked of hay and dried dung.  Abdul welcomed this smell, aware
that he was adding to it.  He sat on the floor.
	As things started to appear more clearly, he noticed
that this room like the other had no windows.  They were built
like grain houses, these hospitals, with no way to break in, or
out.  Abdul turned to the man nearest him and asked �How long
will we be here?�
	The other replied, �As long as they want us to be.  You
are in no position to be impatient.�
	Abdul felt his face reddening as he responded �I am not
being impatient, I am just thirsty.�  He lowered his eyes to the
floor, and in the fraction of a second they took to drop, he
observed that the man had no legs.  Maybe that was the reason
for his bitter nature.  A woman from the benches said, �I have
some in a jug here.�  She beckoned him.  After Abdul had his
fill, he seated himself near her feet.  There was something
about the way she spoke - a confidence that he wanted to draw
from.  He spoke, �Tell me, what are you here for?�
	�The same as you.  We are all here for the same thing. 
Maybe for you it is an arm, for me a foot.  But it is all the
same.  This must be your first time, yes?�
	�Yes.� Abdul stammered, �But then you have been here
before?�
	The woman laughed without opening her mouth.  It seemed
as though the sound came from a deep hollow in her lower
body.  �Yes I have been here before.  Three times actually.�
	�But what have you given?  You seem to have everything
still, you look.... complete.�
	She smiled at this, but suddenly, very seriously, �Maybe
to you, from the outside.  But inside, I have given parts of my
liver, my kidney.  You must know they an take more than what you
just see.  They can crack you without changing anything
outside.� 
	Something inside Abdul clenched as he understood what she
as saying.  The woman looked at his young face, "Does that
frighten you?"
	"No." he finally replied.  "Nobody had told me.  I have
already sold them one eye.  Maybe I should have done something
else."
	The woman shook her head, "There is always later.  We
all return here, maybe this will not be your last time?�
But Abdul did not seem to be listening.











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