How I once waved at a lamppost like a pro.

 

It had been a long time since my world went slightly out of focus. There were days when I felt I wasn’t quite all there, when I thought a small part of me was floating somewhere above the earth, watching all the worldly happenings from a great distance. Some days the faces that passed by during my morning walks were blurred, like the people were slowly fading away from their outer edges. Some other mornings I thought that dew drop on that solitary leaf had forgotten how to be itself. There were evenings when I thought the sun was melting instead of just sinking down. The birds coming back home after their day-long toil had lost their defined wings, the clouds were just vaporizing.

Was the world always like this? I had forgotten how it was before. Long back, when sharp focus was a thing. When objects held their respective shapes and did not rebel.

Then I had a revelation. And it came in the form of an eye hospital. 

No, it wasn't me who was having a mid-life crisis and contemplating the meaning of life. Or even a mental breakdown where I was perceiving the world to be a bizarre carnival ride. It was not even that part of my weirdly wired brain that once thought it would be a good idea to put on 3D glasses in a 2D movie.

All that had transpired was I had turned 40, and I just needed a pair of spectacles to turn my wonky world right again!