<p>The most poignant and profound objects a departed person leaves behind is his spectacles. Every time I look at the picture of the specs with circular rims and curved temple tips on our currency, I think solemnly of Gandhiji. I have with me a collection of specs worn by my late father, grandfather and grandmother. The latest addition to this collection was the well-polished and well-kept speckless specs of my late brother.</p>.<p>Photos fade. Letters turn yellow, brittle and break into pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The dress worn by the departed cannot be preserved for a long time. The one thing that stands the test of time as a memento is specs. Whenever I feel like seeing my late father and grandparents, I look at their specs. My father’s very personality was his specs. His’ resembled that of Rajaji's— my father was a fan of Rajaji. He suffered from chronic myopia. Before going to bed he would place his specs in the velveteen box with utmost gentleness as if it were a baby. I hardly saw him without his specs— they became a permanent feature of his face. My maternal grandfather who was a sketch artist wore an old metal-rimmed reading glass. The only thing I have now to remind me of him is these specs since the only photo I had of him was eaten away by ants. Whenever I peer through its yellowish lens I see him sitting on the floor of our Kanchipuram house, bending over a spread-out white sheet drawing designs for the weavers of silk sarees.</p>.<p>My grandmother wore her glasses only when she had to thread a needle and when she went through Bhagavad-Gita. My younger brother who as my father started wearing glasses very early in life was harassed by students of his class. He used to defend himself against those who made fun of him by telling them “I wear glasses because I read a lot. You don’t wear glasses because you are not scholars like me. Only the above-average respectable people wear spectacles”</p>.<p>I started wearing glasses in my mid-thirties. Even though I kept intact the specs of my father, grandparents and my brother, I have little hope that my specs would also receive the same treatment from my son because he is as practical as I am sentimental.</p>
<p>The most poignant and profound objects a departed person leaves behind is his spectacles. Every time I look at the picture of the specs with circular rims and curved temple tips on our currency, I think solemnly of Gandhiji. I have with me a collection of specs worn by my late father, grandfather and grandmother. The latest addition to this collection was the well-polished and well-kept speckless specs of my late brother.</p>.<p>Photos fade. Letters turn yellow, brittle and break into pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The dress worn by the departed cannot be preserved for a long time. The one thing that stands the test of time as a memento is specs. Whenever I feel like seeing my late father and grandparents, I look at their specs. My father’s very personality was his specs. His’ resembled that of Rajaji's— my father was a fan of Rajaji. He suffered from chronic myopia. Before going to bed he would place his specs in the velveteen box with utmost gentleness as if it were a baby. I hardly saw him without his specs— they became a permanent feature of his face. My maternal grandfather who was a sketch artist wore an old metal-rimmed reading glass. The only thing I have now to remind me of him is these specs since the only photo I had of him was eaten away by ants. Whenever I peer through its yellowish lens I see him sitting on the floor of our Kanchipuram house, bending over a spread-out white sheet drawing designs for the weavers of silk sarees.</p>.<p>My grandmother wore her glasses only when she had to thread a needle and when she went through Bhagavad-Gita. My younger brother who as my father started wearing glasses very early in life was harassed by students of his class. He used to defend himself against those who made fun of him by telling them “I wear glasses because I read a lot. You don’t wear glasses because you are not scholars like me. Only the above-average respectable people wear spectacles”</p>.<p>I started wearing glasses in my mid-thirties. Even though I kept intact the specs of my father, grandparents and my brother, I have little hope that my specs would also receive the same treatment from my son because he is as practical as I am sentimental.</p>