CASEFILE #53467

CASEFILE #53467

NAME OF SUBJECT: ALTAF MIRZA

ADDRESS: 2h 2/1 Nazimabad Number 2

AGE: 30 - 35

NEXT OF KIN: NONE

INCIDENT DATE: 6/10/2014

LEAD OFFICER: Inspector Aftab Mohammed Khan

SUMMARY REPORT

The police were called by the neighbours of the deceased on 6/10/2014. A well-used Sony Walkman cassette player found next to the body was the only material evidence collected for examination. There was no evidence of violence, or outward signs of injury to the body. (For full details see appended pathology report.)

The incident was investigated and the file closed 20/10/2014 on concluding Altaf Mirza had committed suicide by ingesting a widely available organophosphorus poison commonly used as a pesticide.

Incident scene photos (10) are appended to this file.

The contents of the audio cassette were transcribed and are as follow:-

"They say vision is a blessing and blindness an affliction. But that's not true. Vision is the greater affliction. How can I make you understand if you have never been blind? Let explain anyway.

22^nd May, a year earlier, was the most important days of my life. It felt as if I'd been awaiting it forever.

The special day came and the operation was carried out. Four days later the bandages were removed. I recall how excited I felt when the doctor removed my eye patches, and asked me to slowly open my eyes. The light was like a lance. It stabbed my eyeballs with a ferocity that made me winced in pain. There was only a bright dazzle and no image at all at first. I turned my head to take in the room. Slowly I managed to make out the hazy outline of a face. Slowly the image sharpened enough for me to make out a set of busy eyebrows and heavy framed glasses. The voice that accompanied the face confirmed that it was Dr Siddiqui.

For the first few months thereafter, I took to standing for hours on a street - any street, to watch the world go by. The cacophony of colours that comprised the scene set my mind reeling. Red, blue, green. Once these were mere words. Now colours lived! The familiar noise of traffic was now exemplified by images of rickshaws, buses and cars. Children in bedraggled clothes laughed and chased each other in games with unwritten rules. Faces, old and new, wrinkled or smooth, clean-shaven or bearded - these were all new to me. Yes, I had felt the faces of friends, but seeing them was different. At first I thought my heart would burst with the sheer joy of seeing. Television showed me another world, one full of different scenes and strange living creatures. Allah's creation was stunning as it was varied. How strange and incredible was the long neck of the giraffe, the shape of the humble bee or the iridescence of the humming bird. At night the world was transformed anew, so different from the scene with the sun high in the sky. In the open spaces at night my eyes followed the motes of light that were fireflies as they performed their dances in the air. I marveled at moths darting around artificial lights. And when the monsoon came, I never grew tired of watching the first heavy raindrops barrel into the dry soil and then subsequently raindrops bombing into puddles.

For the first time I found myself contemplating marriage. Now I was normal. Just like everyone else. I'd always denied myself this basic of rights because I didn't wish to be a burden to anyone. How could I father children and raise them only to be denied the sight of their innocent faces? But now that no longer concerned me. Yes, all sorts of things were possible now.

I did say that sight was an affliction. Well, that manifested itself soon enough. There's another side to the world from which I'd been protected previously. The filth and dirt were bad enough, but when I could see in colour the bruised and violated bodies of humans, that was too much for me to bear. The daily cruelty of humans, was echoed in their cruelty towards animals. Each day the television screen brought images of war and famine. Babies with bellies swollen by hunger. Individuals bore festering wounds that they couldn't afford to have treated even if there was a hospital nearby.

Yes, it got to me. It broke something inside me and I knew that I'd never be whole again. The depressive bouts became more common and longer in duration. I felt most comfortable at night when sight was restricted. In time, I took to drawing the curtains even against the light of day. At night, I sat in my room with the light turned off. Darkness and solitude became my constant and reliable friends. I knew them of old. We drank deeply of each other again as we had done before the operation.

Don't think I didn't try - I did but I just couldn't banish those horrible images from my mind. Tears flowed unbidden, at times without any apparent cause. The pain of the hurt and needy racked my body in sympathy. The sight of gaunt sad faces haunted me incessantly. They spoke to me, even whispered in my ear as I tried to sleep. There was no peace to be had. The regular insomnia that plagued me wore me down in the end.

I cannot bear it any longer... not even for a minute. I crave my blindness back. I don't want this gift of sight. I understand now that blindness was the cloak of my innocence. In death, at least darkness will wrap me in her embrace and stop the nightmares..."

(The End)