Before generators became a household essential, before smartphones illuminated our palms, and before Netflix became our evening companion, there was a different kind of magic that existed during load shedding.
It needed no Wi-Fi or mobile data -- only our vision, imagination, and conversation. And for many 90s kids, growing up in Bangladesh (or South Asia at large), that magic took the shape of a simple yet enchanting game: “Can you see what I see?” (Ami ja dekhi tumi ki ta dekho?)
For those unfamiliar with the game, its rules are deceptively simple. Two or more participants gather -- perhaps on a rooftop under the open sky, beside the gentle glow of candlelight, or seated on a quiet verandah during a power cut. One individual selects an object -- either visible or imagined -- and poses a gentle yet intriguing question to the others: “Can you see what I see?”
The speaker then offers subtle clues to guide the others toward the answer. The remaining players try to discern what the speaker has in mind. It could be a colour, a shape, a distant star shimmering in the darkness, or the shadow of a tree swaying on the wall.
At times, it may be something entirely imaginary -- a cloud shaped like a dragon, a moon that seems to conceal a hidden face, or a star that sparks the illusion of a distant spacecraft. The beauty of the game lies in its ability to awaken creativity and invite participants to perceive the world through another’s perspective.
At present, we are living in a world where many people are judgmental and do not want to view the world through someone else’s lens. As a result, they always spread irrelevant, hateful, and even misogynistic comments -- be that online or in real-life conversations. These people reflect a lack of understanding, acceptance, and appreciation for others’ sentiments and point of views.
For instance, you might see a person standing at the edge of the sea and think he/she must be feeling a sense of serenity. It is because according to you, the sea symbolizes vastness and freedom. But to that person the sea could signify deep sadness or loneliness. Some people find a busy city street exciting and full of life, alive with diversity and possibilities. Others, however, might see the same street as chaotic and exhausting, a place where it’s easy to feel invisible, isolated, or lost.
What lifts one person up can easily weigh another down, all depending on their internal state and experiences.
Similarly, a student may view a classroom as a place for opportunity and growth, full of chances to inquire and explore. Another may find it a space of pressure, anxiety, or exclusion. The same lesson is taught, and the same walls surround them, yet their emotional experiences are completely different.
These contrasts do not dismiss each other; instead, they show the complex nature of perception. They remind us of how intensely personal the world is when seen through our own narratives, one horizon with endless meanings.
Coming back to the game quietly reminds us that no two people experience the world in exactly the same way. Asking, “Can you see what I see?” isn’t about seeking agreement or validation, but about inviting someone to take a moment to pause, to imagine, and to step into someone else’s perspective by encouraging conversation. This nurtures empathy and reveals that beneath every surface lies a story waiting to be discovered. What seems like a simple childhood pastime is, in fact, a subtle yet powerful lesson in understanding, connection, and seeing the world through another’s eyes -- no screens required.
In a world overflowing with constant distractions, quick judgments, and online outrage, one of the most human things we can do is learn again how to truly see through someone else’s eyes. We may never experience the world exactly as another person does, but making the effort -- to notice, to listen, to understand -- can help bridge the distance between us. And maybe it starts with a simple question: “Can you see what I see?”
Md Inzamul Haque is a lecturer at the Department of English, Southeast University. He can be reached at [email protected].
