HS English Project on Dramatization of The Eyes Have It 

Introduction :  “The Eyes Have It” also known as “The Eyes Are Not Here” is a short story by Ruskin Bond that was originally published in Contemporary Indian English Stories. The narrator of this story, a blind man whose eyes were sensitive to light and darkness, was going to Dehradun by train when he met a girl and had a chit-chat with her. It was only after she left and another passenger came into the compartment that the narrator realises the girl was blind. I am honoured to have given the opportunity of dramatizing t.

 

            

 

The narrator – The narrator of the story who was completely blind at that time.

 

The girl – The young blind girl whom probably her parents have come to see off. 

 

The third passenger – The male passenger who got into the train at Saharanpur station. 

 

Time                          : Day time

Place                          :  Rohana, in the train compartment

Scene                         : The narrator was going to Dehra by a train. A girl got into the train  from Rohana station.

 

 

(The narrator had the train compartment to himself up to Rohana, then a girl got in. The couple who saw her off were probably her parents. They seemed very anxious about her comfort and the woman gave the girl detailed instructions as to where to keep her things, when not to lean out of windows, and how to avoid speaking to strangers.

                  They called their goodbyes and the train pulled out of the station. As he was totally blind at the time, my eyes sensitive only to light and darkness, he was unable to tell what the girl looked like. But I knew she wore slippers from the way they slapped against her heels. It would take me some time to discover something about her looks and perhaps he never would. But he liked the sound of her voice and even the sound of her slippers.)

 

The narrator : Are you going all the way to Dehra?

 

(He must have been sitting in a dark corner because my voice startled her.)

 

The girl : (giving a little exclamation) I didn’t know anyone else was here.

 

(Well, it often happens that people with good eyesight fail to see what is right in front of them. They have too much to take in, he supposes. Whereas people who cannot see (or see very little) have to take in only the essentials, whatever registers tellingly on their remaining senses.)

 

The narrator : I didn’t see you either. But I heard you come in.

 

(The narrator wondered if I would be able to prevent her from discovering that he was blind. Provided he keeps to him seat, he thought, it shouldn’t be too difficult.)

 

The girl : I am getting off at Saharanpur. My aunt is meeting me there.’

 

The narrator: Then I had better not get too familiar. Aunts are usually formidable creatures.

 

The girl  : Where are you going?

 

The narrator : To Dehra and then to Mussoorie.’

 

The girl  : Oh, how lucky you are. I wish I were going to Mussoorie. I love the hills. Especially in October.’

 

The narrator : (calling on my memories )Yes, this is the best time. The hills are covered with wild dahlias, the sun is delicious, and at night you can sit in front of a log fire and drink a little brandy. Most of the tourists have gone and the roads are quiet and almost deserted. Yes, October is the best time.

 

(She was silent. He wondered if his words had touched her or whether she thought him a romantic fool. Then he made a mistake.

The narrator   : What is it like outside?

 

(She seemed to find nothing strange in the question.)

 

The narrator  : Had she noticed already that I could not see?

 

(But her next question removed his doubts.)

 

The girl : Why don’t you look out of the window?

 

(He moved easily along the berth and felt for the window ledge. The window was open and he faced it, making a pretence of studying the landscape. He heard the panting of the engine, the rumble of the wheels, and, in my mind’s eye he could see telegraph posts flashing by.)

 

The narrator : (venturing) Have you noticed that the trees seem to be moving while we seem to be standing still?

 

The girl  : That always happens. Do you see any animals?’

 

The narrator : (quite confidently ) No.

 

(He knew that there were hardly any animals left in the forests near Dehra. He turned from the window and faced the girl and for a while we sat in silence.)

 

The narrator : You have an interesting face.

 

(He was becoming quite daring but it was a safe remark. Few girls can resist flattery. She laughed pleasantly—a clear, ringing laugh.)

 

The girl : It’s nice to be told I have an interesting face. I’m tired of people telling me I have a pretty face.)

 

The narrator : Oh, so you do have a pretty face, thought I. Well, an interesting face can also be pretty.

 

The girl : You are a very gallant young man/ she said. But why are you so serious?

 

(He thought, then, that he would try to laugh for her, but the thought of laughter only made him feel troubled and lonely.)

 

The narrator : We’ll soon be at your station.

 

The girl : Thank goodness it’s a short journey. I can’t bear to sit in a train for more than two or three hours.

 

(Yet he was prepared to sit there for almost any length of time, just to listen to her talking. Her voice had the sparkle of a mountain stream. As soon as she left the train she would forget our brief encounter. But it would stay with me for the rest of the journey and for some time after.

             The engine’s whistle shrieked, the carriage wheels changed their sound and rhythm, the girl got up and began to collect her things. He wondered if she wore her hair in a bun or if it was plaited. Perhaps it was hanging loose over her shoulders. Or was it cut very short?

             The train drew slowly into the station. Outside, there was the shouting of porters and vendors and a high-pitched female voice near the carriage door. That voice must have belonged to the girl’s aunt.)

 

The girl  : Goodbye.

 

(She was standing very close to me. So close that the perfume from her hair was tantalizing. I wanted to raise my hand and touch her hair but she moved away. Only the scent of perfume still lingered where she had stood.)

 

 

There was some confusion in the doorway. A man, getting into the compartment, stammered an apology. Then the door banged and the world was shut out again. He returned to my berth. The guard blew his whistle and we moved off. Once again I had a game to play and a new fellow traveler.

                The train gathered speed, the wheels took up their song, the carriage groaned and shook. He found the window and sat in front of it, staring into the daylight that was darkness for him .So many things were happening outside the window. It could be a fascinating game guessing what went on out there.

                        The man who had entered the compartment broke into my reverie.

 

The third passenger : You must be disappointed. I’m not nearly as attractive a travelling companion as the one who just left.

 

The narrator : She was an interesting girl. Can you tell me—did she keep her hair long or short?’

 

The third passenger  : (sounding puzzled ) I don’t remember. It was her eyes I noticed, not her hair. She had beautiful eyes but they were of no use to her. She was completely blind. Didn’t you notice?

[ Lights turned into very low and slowly the curtain down .]