That thing with the blue tint!

Specs that you've been wearing for almost 6 years or  trendy contacts? Of course, you can well imagine what I would have chosen! Drowned away in boredom, and after a few desperate attempts of "innovation" in my present life that's devoid of any kindof enthusiasm or new prospects, I finally decided to get crazy and unrealistic (  that's what I say now). AAnnnnd.... SOooooO... I placed my approval quite satsfactorily in mum's everdoubting head annndd got those weird slimy concave silicone gel cups with the BLUE TINT. Just to clarify, my contacts aren't blue..
Owing to the never ending anticipation working up in my head, I nagged and begged, projected out my condescending character with least shame and finally got those lens delivered in time.
"You must wash you hands properly before putting in the lenses.", the optician said. His face bore an expression of disinterest. But I jumped up frantically to every word he said. Well, he uttered only that sentence much to my disappointment. I rolled my eyes a bit, attempting to warm up. Pulling my eyelids down and my eyebrows up, he shoved them in my eyes so fast as if the rajdhani he wanted to catch was pulling away.. "OUCHHHH!! holy shit! mother of contacts! This hurts like nails on a chalkboard!", I bellowed within my head in response to his flawed act. Tears rolled down my eyes. It felt like my vitreous humor was humouring me! "No!", I cried and mum meticulously picked the piece out of my eye and put it again. "Better!" I groaned. Okay now that scene recurred 4 5 times till till the outlines of the contacts switched to just "scratching my cornea".
So, the next few days of drama involved few "hard- to- believe-but -oh-you-have-to" episodes as follows:
 a) I succeed in pushing the lens into my eyes and squeal with delight when to my utter dismay, I  realise there's no correction in in my vision! And oh wait!The lens is not in my eye! OH its lying somewhere on the damn floor or its stuck to my clothes. I strip myself, I crawl to previously inaccessible corners, I try making assumptions like 'Is is lost at the back of my eye?" , and finally mum picks up the shrunken dehydrated piece from somewhere and *********** you can guess....
b) Mum gets to know its not appropriate for my eye and shoots the optician's ear with jolts of fire~~ And again a week of impatience results in fresh contacts.
After rahu kaalam got over, I bowed to lord " PLese let this not hurt me!".
I opened the case again that read "Bauch and Lomb". Now if this causes a tinge of discomfort, am definitely gonna sue you Mr.Bauch and Mr.Lomb! Really, sticking your finger into the eye is pretty gross. I did it anyways. It didn't feel different. The concave thing had a larger radius of curvature and so it caused more pain. I was anguished and baffled at the same time! The reason behind the lens hurting me was unfathomable and I chose to wear it anyways.
While popping in pills my dermatologist had recommended, I read the huge list of side effects that accompanied the tiny strip of capsules.
Tretiva; donot consume during pregnancy, causes birth defects.; patient might have difficulty in wearing contact lenses; causes dry eyes.; et cetera,,, I stopped at that line and jumped in relief. So, my eyes were not afflicted with any kind of hazardous thing, its just "dry eyes!"
I poured in a lot of multipurpose solution into the eye and from that merry day, me moping over contacts became an entirely obsolete act. " So dear! You've finally overcome your aversion towards lenses, haven't you?" Mum asks me everyday after placing it into my eye. I nod my head gently, reassuring her.