So I’m addicted to cigarettes
And isn’t the only one of my vices. But sometimes I enjoy it.
I just had a smoke and it’s a cold
Anyway, so I stepped outside to smoke, in a thin cotton cream coloured shirt, feeling the cold air run over me, the cold never has bothered me. Anyway, I thought about all the times I have smoked a cigarette. When I first got to Hindu and started making new friends, smoking in the winter’s sun in
Or just after playing golf at SriFort, pulling up in the parking lot after I got my first rejection from a college in the
After making love to the Ex at a friends place where she was staying over, in the summer heat with nothing but a fan too cool you down after, falling asleep, arms around each other as though sent adrift in the big bad world
I remember after I had settled down in NY, after my first day on the job, looking out a new window at a
Or the times I have been buzzed at Turquoise Cottage oh so many times with old friends from middle-school, laughing and being 15 again.
I remember the surreptitious cigarette I sneaked when I was in the bathroom in my room in
I have smoked in more exotic locales as well, down on a raft down the
Or sometimes in the middle of the night with no light except the one at the tip of my fingers, the smoke undisturbed by a non-existent breeze.
I love to indulge when its pouring in Delhi, sheets of water, people in ankle deep water with plastic bags around their feet, guys with pot bellies and pants rolled up to here, women in sarees and carrying stuff o their head, kids coming home from school unmindful of the rain.
Or the times in whichever city you may like, pulling over from my characteristic brisk pace, stopping at a coffee shop, sitting outside and watching the people (oh the beautiful people…wasn’t hat a song as well?) mill about, wonder who they are, where they are going and if anything means anything anymore
I guess it isn’t the smoking, its what I do for those 3-4 minutes when I am alone in my heads and world passes me by for a change