Rebeccus Farcis

Rebeccus Farcis means "Have Fun", in err.. the yet to be discovered Martian.

Eyes Pice Wise

with 3 comments

Evolution, as is said (as claimed by the Darwinian scientological theories), started with the jellyfish and ended with neanderthals. Then on, its been an gradual operational degradation of the human mind wherein the son, of all sorts and breeds tends to be no smarter than the father (OK, the mother too). And somewhere in this remarkably slow process of evolution, a small part of the race that considers itself rather superior to the others slowly came around to realize that the evolved eyes weren’t precise enough at times and they needed an extraneous accessory to support the same.

Eyes – the same window through which most land animals visualize the world are a gift of the creator; a marvel in themselves. A kind of low maintenance marvel that one tends to associate with devices only in the days of Yezdi bikes. Progressively in the process of evolution, when the brains of general human beings got sharper and their senses shoddy, the precision with which the retina could focus on pictures (mostly of the female gender) at a distance greater than 100m a trifle too difficult to perceive. The biggest difficulty arose in such situations where one tended to seriously throw such glances at the girl seated 3 rows away that would make His Father’s Highness Siddhartha Mallya twitch in his dad’s money’s royal bed, only to realize that she’s the ugliest looking female in the entire 3km radius surrounding this precise point on earth; that’s when scientifically bent minds tend to commence that tough march towards an opthalmologist’s.

Opthalmologists are, by and large, of two categories:
1. The ones that wear pyrex glasses over their eyes so that THEY too can see things properly
2. The ones that don’t, are female and tend to look rather hot, as the general parlance goes.

Luckily, one comes across the second category of medical practitioners frequently in Mumbai – as luck would have it, there tends to be one in the neighborhood too. One walks into such a studio and is greeted warmly by the equally hot looking secretary wishing one a very warm welcome and extending a greeting one wouldn’t have encountered for the past 24 years:
“Sir, please be seated sir! Sir, can I order a coke for you sir.”
Under normal conditions, one tends to indulge oneself in the welcome meted out. But, considering this is a doctors’ and the socially accepted norms of a doctor’s don’t generally subscribe to the thought of such ‘hotelish’ hospitality, one tends to wonder.
“No thanks.”
The hot looking girl aforementioned then tends to offer one with such books of quality that one wouldn’t find inside Oxford’s University’s library – Filmfare and Stardust abound the pretty well maintained shed for a clinic. The smile on that PYT tends to remain.
“Sir, actually….”
“Yeah…”, gulping down a tiny quantity of saliva down the throat…
“Sir, madam is getting a little late today. So she’s asked me to hold up the customers for a while.. So if you can wait for the next two hours…”
“Oh of course… But you see… well.. I mean..”
“Sir, she’ll be here by 8 o clock”
“Oh brilliant. I’ll be here at 8 myself too.”

So started the march, march#2 this time.

A small board was hung before a tin shed – “Daruwala Eye Clinic. Dr.Shahzad Daruwala, MBBS, MD (Opthalmology).” Weighing the prospects of a blast of monsoon awaited from somewhere along the southeastern coast and filling the remains of this road with filth and water, sometimes knee deep, and the prospect of having to walk in the same water with water over the head and below the feet, one tends to walk in into Daruwala clinic. Royally seated in a chair manufacture date of which wouldn’t be any time after the day India found its independence was THE man Himself, Dr.Shahzad Daruwala.

Adored over his mighty frame of a ping-pong ball sized head was a red frame for glasses, the style once made famous by the then style icon (now retired style icon) Romesh Powar. Poring through this glasses he asks one to read some random sets of alphabets placed at a distance, one reads it. He asks one to read one set smaller than that, one reads that too. He twists one’s head in random directions and orders one to repeat the same (one tends to salivate at the prospect getting this activity done by that fine lady for a doc). After numerous iterations of the same order, Dr.Daruwala concludes
“Beta, there’s only a very small problem with your eyesight. Only your axial vision is a little skewed. I’ll prescribe you spectacles. Wear them for a year, we’ll see after that.”
One tends to obey a doc generally.
“Ok doctor.”
“Ok beta, 200Rs.”
“Thank you doctor”
“Good bye beta.”

Thus, one tends to walk out of a opthalmic surgeon’s desk with a small prescription in hand – the next phase of evolution I call it – the accessory that one wears over the eyes. Someone tells there is a fine technology of contact lenses doing rounds – that’s the next phase of evolution.


Disclaimer: All characters in this article are fictitious.


Written by Srinivas

August 2, 2010 at 8:42 pm

Posted in Fun

Tagged with , , , ,

3 Responses

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  1. Bloody Awesome post, man….loved it totally…i love the way you compare everything with the hilarious possible methphor..and Romesh Powar…ROFL!!!
    Keep writing more…as always…it’s a delight for the readers.

    Tonmoy Goswami

    August 3, 2010 at 6:38 pm

  2. ROFL! Well written. 😀


    August 9, 2010 at 2:40 am

  3. Nice one.
    Daruwala eyeclinic was too good.
    and thats real fun about Mallya and family..

    More Awaited.


    September 24, 2010 at 5:50 pm

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