Not much has changed, except
I can't see my reflections in the mirror
I shouldn't complain
When 'ooperwala' takes away a prized possession
He compensates it by giving something more prized
I can't read, but what is read to me
I understand more clearly and more deeply
Deficiencies are compensated
If available is a good compensator
As if I lost my leg in an accident
And I am supported by a wooden leg
Wood, I find, no longer 'woody'
Artificiality melts away
Wood becomes a part of me
I can’t see but I can see
Through the eyes of my companion
I feel guilty to use my companion, as my extension
How can I forget she is not 'wood'
My companion asks me
If a material can be an extension of a living
Why can't a living extension
Be the extension of a companion