The Blind Thief

Is a blind thief conceivable?

One that can not be aware of other people’s reactions, that can not be sure if somebody is watching him or not. Who must rely on someone’s help, or on a controlled routine, on an environment adapted to him.

Yes, it is conceivable. He could build an impeccable reputation, playing the part of the helpless, the role of the innocuous and predictable innocent. He could play on trust. Dispel the suspicions before they arise. Count on what you would think he is not capable of doing. He could rely on the fact that people would leave their valuables within his reach, just because he does not see.

He could develop hidden skills. Procure an ally, conscious or unconscious. Someone that would signal him, in case he is seen. Someone who would not speak if threatened. For example, he could train a dog to touch his hand with his nose when there is someone else in the room.

He could act in the dark, where he is stronger than others. Yes, a blind thief is conceivable.

Dario once attended a show where they explained the world of the blind.

A simulation. One would enter, and suddenly be in complete darkness. Powerless, he would put his hands in front of him, trying little steps, looking for something solid to hold. Immediately in anguish. Was it a small room, huge? Were there objects? Fragile, dangerous, sharp? Was he alone?

After a few seconds, just long enough to become aware of his own vulnerability, the voice of a guide welcomed him. There was a woman, blind, as she herself revealed, who instructed him on how to move, how to use his hands to test the space, how to keep the senses open.

To find out if the room is small or big, it is enough to make a sound, just snap your fingers. The air behaves differently. It is still, does it move? Where does the rush of air come from? A small draft, a wide opening? She took his hand and led him to a tactile exploration of the environment. A path. Some strings attached to the wall connecting one room to another, one object to another. The woman explained how a blind man lives in his house. She taught him how to crack an egg, light the stove, fry, eat, clean up. She made him experience the beauty of textures, the play of materials and temperatures. Eating that egg, above all, was strange. A dark flavor, a tactile expanded experience, a massive substance dissolving between tongue and palate. Finally, she invited him to open a door and he found himself outside. There was light for a few minutes, as a loud noise that distracted him. Finally everything was as before, and in a few hours he had already forgotten. He could not see the woman, but her presence was still inside him, for she had accompanied him on an exploration of her nose, forehead, eyes, hair. Strange doing it with someone who was not a lover. Now he knew her, without having had an optical impression.

He made it into an idea for a story: where a man, the moment he comes out of the same exhibition, bangs his head against the doorframe and remains blind. Experiencing the difference between playing at being blind and being blind. He spends his life regretting not having seen the things that he looked at while he still could.