Smoke till the last puff

Sitting on a rooftop under the blue infinite world when I light a cigarette and see the glow in the dark, I feel like that I exist and I am living my life to the fullest. I start believing that I am far away from the mundane life.

Number of people asked: “Why do I smoke?” I just smile at them. I don’t even think of replying them. Lately, I have developed a habit of offering a cigarette to those who put up this dim-witted question. A few of them gave me a furious look as if they are going to kill me. I laugh at their innocence. How ignorant they are? They pretend that they hate smokers in fact they are scared and are low-esteemed.

Technically if we talk, everyone smokes. Some smokes out their family problems; some their tortured emotional life; some their office problems and some, whom I consider are the most courageous people, smoke to enjoy the moment. We smoke a plutonic cigarette to make that moment eternal.

One wants to be rewarded in their life at some point of time. Everyone wants to be patted on the back. Smoking is a reward that we can give ourselves whenever we want. You will ponder: “Why I am saying so?” It’s because when I will finish this article I will reward myself with a cigarette. Whenever we finish an assignment we reward ourselves with a deep puff of the satisfying smoke. It’s a consolation prize. What is wrong in this?

Scientifically smoking is a conditioned reflex. It is a like another course of meal. We smoke after lunch, dinner or over a cup of tea. Smoking introduces holiday spirit into everyday living. It makes all kind of enjoyment one hundred per cent satisfactory.

Sometimes smoking makes me nostalgic. When I take a deep puff and close my eyes, the entire life comes in front of me. My school friends, college buddies, my first crush, the first step, the first mistake, and everything that has left deep mark in my heart revolves in front of my closed eyes with each puff I inhale. I fly from the contentment to intense joy. I become gratified and pull out a few more cigarettes and light it up one by one. The sense to pleasure sees on limits.

Smoking is the best means to communicate and puff out your feelings. There are times when your boss, girlfriend, parents or friends are upset with you and you want to burn out the ill feelings about them and carry on, all you need to do is light a cigarette and forget their words. When your boss says: “You haven’t completed your assignment and you need a holiday what is this?” You are down and shattered as your parents are arriving on the day you were looking for an off. You desperately need a break. Go out and have a fag. You will be rejuvenated and will finish your work efficiently and effectively. I am sure you will convince your boss and if your boss smokes he will understand you problem for sure. Remember those days when your sweetheart says: “I have been waiting for last two hours.” Just have a fag she or he will not say a single word. He or she will not ask for any excuses. The smoke around will quieten the fury and the silence will speak thousands of words. I am sure when you will finish the cigarette she or he will surely give a warm-loving hug.

Lots of my friends, I mean to say: “close friends”, who stood by me during the darkest hour of my life and still invisibly stands beside me to fight with the entire world for me, I met them, for the first time, over a cigarette. I remember a night, the darkest night in my life, when I was surrounded by almost twenty to twenty five goons armed with swords, knifes and handmade pistols, with only one slogan they had: “Handover this guy.” It was sure that they had plans to kill me. My dearest friend bargained my life by placing his head in front of the loaded pistols. He pulled me out from the hands of goons and saved my life. (I owe a life to him). I met this god-like friend over a cigarette outside my college campus. I firmly believe that the friendship made over cigarettes have eternal bonding. This bonding is stronger than any religious, cultural, social, family et al attachment. There are hundreds of examples in everyone’s life. I have learnt the meaning of friendship over a cigarette as I believe and have experienced that the guys and gals who smoke and cleans their heart from selfishness, greediness, jealousy et al and becomes a pure soul. What more to say I met my mentor over a cigarette.

Cigarette is the best way to greet anyone. When I meet someone I simply ask them: “Let’s light a cigarette.” I just cut off the nonsense stuff like hello, hey, hi, how do u do etc. By asking lets light a cigarette he or she straight away understand let’s talk purpose of visiting. Then we go down into serious business of talks. Asking for a cigarette is the best way to start a conversation with strangers. Inviting friends for a cigarette is in itself a very close and touching way to greet and fix a time for sharing good and bad moments with them and having fun. It’s like owning friends, the biggest assets in life. Lighting the cigarette for your friends and bosses is a way of showing respect to them.

A colleague once said that smoking is like having sex with the beautiful lady you have ever imagined. I never understood his seriousness in the statement. I mocked at him. He said: “One day you will surely comprehend with me.” And yes he was right. It was on June 20, 2009. I along with my friends was putting up at Model Town in Delhi at a friend’s house who was making our website. It was around 11 pm. Four of us were busy with the content of our site as we had to launch it formally the very next day. A whole lot of work was there to complete. Sitting on computer and laptops between smokes and cold drinks we were working. We had bought around six to seven packs of cigarettes. We were all confident enough that it will last till morning. At around 1 am, one yelled: “Give me a cigarette.” I replied: “Check it out. It must be at the table.” He again shouted: “All packets are empty.” I replied: “It can’t be. I personally have bought six or seven packets. Check once again. Few of it may be lying somewhere. ” He said nothing. He walked straight away to me and nicely placed all the empty packets on the keyboard of my laptop. We all started looking at each other. I checked at the right corner of the display screen for the time. It was one ‘o’ clock. I screamed: “Where are we going to get it. All the stores are closed and we have to drive to New Delhi Railway Station.” After that there was a pin drop silence in the room. “Now what,” said one of them. I told: “First finish our work and then we will drive to station.” He said: “Fuck off! I need a fag.” I just placed both my hands over my face and said lets go. I too was unable to control the urge for a fag. As we were driving to the station, I saw a security guard. I asked my friend to stop the car. With all the etiquettes one pumps when he or she goes for a date, I in the same manner asked if he has a bidi. He with due respect offered everyone a bidi. As I puffed, I imagined that I was having sex with the most beautiful girl. (I can only imagine as I am still virgin). Thats how I felt. Yes his words were true.....

Where is she?

Wrapped in the wistful fog, I sat down on the mused-pavement for long hoping to figure out the apprehensions arising within me. The sense of agony breezed out every single thought of running away from the chill that was enveloping me. I was precipitating. My hands and feet were numbed. My throat muscles were tightening. I was gasping for breath.

The boundless shadow around my nerve was engulfing my sense of being alive. I was dead yet my brain was unprepared to accept that my soul was steadily escalating between the two worlds: the world which I timelessly enjoyed of being and the world which was as real as of being.

There was complete emptiness around me. I was hallucinating. The words, the smell, the touch, the ecstasy, the agony, the hope, the death, the life… everything was revolving around me. I could not rationalise that I was overrun by the adrenalin rush of a very familiar shadow. I was in mental fist.

I don’t know for how long I was emotionally lying in the pool of much-awaited felicity. Had not the warm droplets came out my screaming-soul through my eyes, I would not have realised that I was still alive. Regaining my being as real, I laid on the mused-pavement on that winter night, though I was numb with cold, till she echoed: “Go home”. I just stand up on my feet hoping to see the person who spoke to me. It was all in vain. No one was there. Not a single soul was visible. All I could see was fog. Everything was completely empty. I just kept asking from myself where, why and how I was there. Where is she? All I could feel and see was fog. I kept asking what happened to me.

I was in complete delirium. I rushed towards the road looking for a living soul who can drive me to my home. Seeing a sign an auto I rushed towards it and asked him: “Would you drive me to Kalkaji?” A man of around forty sitting on a driver seat said: “Hundred Rupees.” I said ok fine lets go…