Eyes

“Never trust people with black eyes. They are evil” said my maternal grandmother, long time back. It’s shocking, realizing that now I can barely understand her.
“Really? Are they all?” I said, as I sipped my coffee. She used to make amazing coffee. She’s not dead but weak enough to not be able to cook anything. She lives with my uncle.

“Well, mostly. As far as I have known the few people with black eyes. Actually, just one. She was really evil. But was good to me.” She said with a smile. I think I got this from my grandmother – maternal one, i.e. – that if somebody, or anybody for that matter, doesn’t do any harm to me, I don’t really hate them. I might dislike them for treating someone I love, or really care about, in a wrong manner but hate is a strong emotion. I do however hate certain people. But for reasons contemptible of even a simple mention. And my grandmother knew I had that principle, rule or whatever you may term it as.

“Okay. What did she do that made her evil?” I asked, basically for two reasons. One was because I was curious, obviously. Black eyes, evil person. Something that caught my curiosity. The other reason was because I wanted to prove her wrong about the “black eyed people are evil” theory of hers. But she never told me.
“Oh never mind. It’s too long a story” she said as she waved her hand at me.

Even after many, many persuasions, at the cost of my coffee going cold, she didn’t utter a single word related to that topic. “Bad influence”, she said. Whatever that was supposed to mean, I gave up. She had years of experience in doing that putting-the-topic-away thing and I was just 15. But I did eventually know why she’d said that. Black eyed people are evil, you know. Young and adult, alike.

                                                          *

I wanted to be a swimmer. But let’s laugh for a while regarding that because now my tummy looks like I am 4 months pregnant. Also, I was always scared of the chlorine ruining my hair, and my already-damaged skin. I just sat down on one of the chairs near the edges of the pool, fully dressed and so out of place because I was also reading a novel by Haruki Murakami named Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. The pool’s radiant blue tiles beneath was making the water look like it was blue. And the sun from the windows was reflecting the blue color, making the whole stadium blue-ish.

“Hey Tish, don’t go near the edge, will you? It’s slippery there” a girl, who was getting ready to go into the crystal clear water, said abruptly, causing me to look up. By the time I looked to my right-hand side, the girl was already gone. So, I looked at the little girl, just to check if she had backed away from the edge. The edges really were slippery. The little girl merely looked towards the other girls who walked away, towards a group of girls and who were now talking animatedly. She turned to look at me and smiled. She was pretty. She wasn’t really that fair or anything, just a normal, light tan-ish tone to her skin, wavy black hair which ended in curls. She was pretty. I smiled back and almost went back to reading the novel in my hands – almost – when my head shot up again, this time in realization: her eyes were deep black. I have seen the darkest of brown, most of my friends being the owner of such pairs, but you could figure out that it was brown when the sun rays reflected on them. But this black? I don’t think so I ever have caught sight of such a pair. Those were magnificently black. My thoughts immediately went back to my grandmother’s words two years back “Never trust people with black eyes. They are evil.” I pushed away that thought, thinking this girl, who was no older than 6 or 7, could possibly mean no harm to anyone, except for her own self because she still hadn’t moved from the edge. Also, her back was turned to me now, her friendly smile long gone. I still don’t know what made me watch her and not go back to the book, but I just watched her. Her tiny toes curling themselves from time to time, which made me think if she was considering jumping into the pool. She was in a swim-suit, a very cute red one with purple flowers on it. Her hair was open. She looked evil from no angle. She simply stood there, motionless. Except for her toes, I mean. They seemed to have been controlling themselves all along.

I kind of felt ridiculous, thinking that was I really expecting her to do something like trip someone into the water. Oh and she was standing near the deeper end. So, yeah. If you do fall without any intention to, into the deeper side, your whole life might flash in front of you. So, I started looking around. Towards people who were either joking about some topic or were getting ready to get into the water. But most of them, like that girl who was the little girl’s aunt, went and joined a group, and started talking.

And I have absolutely no idea exactly how that happened but a girl did fall into the deep end, right where Tish was. I didn’t immediately think it to be her, you know. But there was just no-one around. I stared at the little girl, thinking could it be really this 5-6 year old girl who tripped the other girl into the water. I literally riveted my eyes on her, just when a sound came from beside me,

“Did you see that girl?”

I turned to see a guy sitting on the chair beside mine, in total shock like he couldn’t believe what he saw.

“What?” I blurted out

“That girl. Over there!” he said as he frantically pointed towards Tish.

“What about her?” I said, raising my right eye. He looked at me in disbelief. He must have thought that I caught her in action while she tripped the other girl (he told me afterwards).

“That girl,” he said as he still kept his finger pointing at her, “pushed that girl” now pointing at the girl who tripped and who was being given medical attention by the doctor who’d arrived, “into the godamn water!”

My mouth fell open. It was her!

“Yeah, I know! My mouth fell open too! I came here to pick my sister up,” he said, pointing towards a girl wearing a yellow swim-suit, who was peering into the crowd, “and I just sat here, waiting for her when I saw her trip the girl. No-one will believe me if I say the truth!”

“Yeah, I know.” My words barely came out properly. I replied after like, some 5 minutes.

“You…you don’t think I am crazy?”

“Nope. I’ve been staring at her and she’s been acting a bit weird. She didn’t move away from the edge when her aunt asked her to.”

He sighed in relief, “That’s good then. But, this is disturbing.”

“You bet” I said, as I remembered my grandmother’s saying ‘Never trust people with black eyes. They are evil’

                                                *

“That girl did that, I swear gran!” I said, frantically bouncing. Too much bouncing, for an 18 year old.

“What are you talking about?” my grandma said, looking at me, her lost eyes searching my face for any clue about what I just said.

“Grandma? I narrated a whole story.” I said, in clear disbelief.

“She’s suffering from Amnesia. Crucial case, she hardly manages to remember her name by the end of an hour.” Said a nurse, who’d just entered the room. The room was white, really white. Like, you’ve died and are in heaven. That white it was.

“Oh” I said, somewhat feeling an obvious sadness.

“It’s okay,” she said as she smiled at me, “I’ll tell her you said something about the-” she stopped and looked at me,

“Never trust people with black eyes. They are evil” I said, forcing a smile.

“Yes, that” she smiled back.

“I’ll be leaving now, I guess,” I smiled at grandma, “Bye gran” I kissed her pale forehead.

“Bye, dear” she looked at me, a bit questioningly, as if trying to remember who I was. Before she could ask who I was, I left the room, smiling at the nurse, waving a “bye!”

I left the room. Outside, in the corridor, there was a woman, supported by a nurse, taking her to a room, probably. As I passed her, she looked up at me. I gasped. Her eyes! Those were of the blackest shade I have seen.

‘Never trust people with black eyes. They are evil’