I can't see anything br without spectacles. br Luring eyes get vexed br not being responded by my eyes. br The child-carrying anaemic mother br or the shivering octogenarian br travelling in buses as standees, br eyeing me up to receive my seat, br are not looked at all by my eyes. br Specks of dust cover my glasses br when chain-snatchers or those br who scare public peace bustle around. br As my eyes fail to greet br Known people on the road br They think of me as being proud. br br But a fifty rupee note on the walk way br before the busy market br made a clear image in my shifting eyes. br I looked around and picked it up. br I liked to hand it over to a shopkeeper br for to be return to that loser later. br But the business people are sharks br giving bogus bills in bits of papers, br evading tax and exchanging fake notes. br And so I waited there for ten minutes, br with my eyes feigning search for the philanthropist. br Alas! Fifty rupee has gone down to the value of fifty paise. br Nobody turned up to claim it. br br I am not brought up in a way to give it to charity, br or to a beggar and to donate it to the temple. br Is it a thousand rupee note br to pass it on to the police? br So I pushed it into my pocket br looking around if anybody watching. br Very good eyes I have br which I won't donate even after my death.