Over the years, I’ve felt rather smug about my eyesight. Never needed glasses for anything except reading. While friends began peering over bifocals, I’d flash my eyes proudly and hit a four in local cricket matches.

So, there I was, strolling down the genteel streets of Manhattan’s Upper East Side, congratulating myself—once again—on being one of the chosen few. No glasses needed! I paused in front of a shop window to admire, well, myself. I took out my glasses and tried them on for fun. “Maybe I’ll look a bit academic,” I mused. “A touch of the New York Times columnist look. Serious. Thoughtful. Stylish.”

Wrong.

The horror wasn’t in the mirror—but on the ground.

Suddenly, the world sharpened. The pavement, which moments ago looked like polished granite, revealed itself to be a battlefield of bodily betrayals. Dog walkers had clearly done their morning rounds, and while they had the decency to scoop, nature had left behind its subtle stains—ones my once-proud naked eye had kindly ignored. There were dried splotches, shoe-prints with suspicious brown smears, and worse, a patch of squashed chewing gum masquerading as modern art.

Even the kerb, which I had stepped over jauntily minutes ago, now yawned like a booby trap; jagged cracks, tiny but deadly, waiting for a careless ankle. My perfect world had morphed into an obstacle course—and all it took was a pair of lenses.

I kept the glasses on after that. Not just for reading anymore, but for walking. For surviving. And as I did, I began to wonder—how much more have I been missing?

How much dirt lies beneath our feet today, hidden by the blur of indifference? We clap for leaders who give stirring speeches while stepping over the bruised backs of the poor. We cheer influencers as they dance in designer sneakers, oblivious to the burning slums behind them. Children are being killed in wars. Women are raped in silence. Journalists are bullied into obedience. And yet the world stares without glasses, applauds without seeing, walks on without stumbling—because it chooses to remain blind.

Take a closer look, dear world. Put on your glasses—not just the optical kind, but the moral lenses. The ethical bifocals. The specs of truth. Because when you do look closely, you’ll see the rot beneath our polished floors. The sewage beneath our skyscrapers. The injustice buried beneath every award.

And once you’ve seen it—what then?

You clean it. Or you stop contributing to the mess.

You hold the leash tighter when power runs wild. You scoop up your responsibilities, even if they’re messy. You fix the cracks in your nation. You stop listening to hate speeches politicians bring division with.

Because there’s dirt beneath your feet, my friend.

And the first step to cleaning it… is seeing it…!

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