Grey Ash.

9^th December, 2013.

It has been 8 or 9 years since my last cigarette. It’s a crystal clear memory. I was in school and some of my pals decided to have a good time smoking during a free period in a summer afternoon…teenage years has a tendency to lead people towards some vices. Me not being any different from my equivalents, decided to try it out. I wasn’t a stud in school, yet I had a few good people around me who did care about me to a considerable extent. Naturally, I was reprimanded by them, following by a promise not to smoke again. Until this morning, I have resiliently kept my word, but I guess…

Last night, I couldn’t sleep. Well I have been through sleepless night before,but this was different. For certain people around me, I have made a special place in my heart, and usually, if I am not in a very bad mood, I always try to be respectful towards them. Yes, maybe I sound totally rash and harsh at times, but I never foul mouth or perverse my mind towards my friends. That is a heresy to the people we love and respect. But last night was like a match stick to gunpowder. Consciously, I never disrespected anyone; I have that much control on me.

So as it seems, my endeavors to be respectful is being taken for granted, for the first time, I was accused of perverting my feeling towards the person I adore the most. What hurt more was that I was accused by that very person. If I’d been slapped in public, it wouldn’t matter, you know, shit happens!!  But this? Was I this much stranger? has everything about me so distant and vacant?

It almost instantly set my breath, brain on fire...a strange kind of anger and a feeling of hurt erupted. After all this years, this was what was awaiting for me…heh!

It was around 1.30 or 2 in the morning when I picked up Brida, a novel by Coelho. Irony of the situation, a gift from the same person. I’ve read it 5 times, but now, I was just hovering over the words printed. A page after pages flew by, but I couldn’t make out what was the magus saying, what was Wicca teaching, what Brida felt… nothing. My brain was blank. By the time I finished, it was time for my brother to wake up for his school.

I needed some time alone. Bhai left for school. After an an hour or so, I excused myself from my house, went out on the streets and brought a wills flake. I was breaking my promise.

My rooftops provide me an enormous view of my locality, acting as a place to seek solace. Lighting up the cigarette, I started reminiscing stuff from past…where did I went wrong? What did I miss? Any clue that would help me, but in vain I searched. The magus was still with me, enjoying the Delhi winter sun with breezes, but I was so lost in smoking that I ignored his lesson about life, about everything he taught me. I had heard that a cigarette helps in thinking. I was ready to try anything. I was ready to break my first ever promise.

Each time I let out a jet of smoke, I found myself more deeply strangled in the past. Each time I tap out some ash, I saw my best endeavors burnt in a shade of grey. And not to my surprise, I was enraging, to a point of screaming but restrained. A cigarette can be related so much to a current situation. It was like watching a self destruction. The smoke was boosting my temper to a more dangerous level.

There was ash around my feet and the cigarette butt was still between my fingers, in its last flame, almost burning my fingers. Who cares? When rage and hurt comes, a physical pain means nothing. Stubbing it out, I stayed on the roofs for 2 solid hours, gazing over dakshinpuri, wishing if i could fly somewhere and then,finally retired to my rooms. Maa did understand something was wrong, but did not ask what. She respects privacy. She never pushed me around asking what took me 2 hours on roofs, just once she asked if everything is alright? I lied. I lied saying I am okay. Certainly I can’t pull her in some matters.

But the cigarette didn’t help. I still am looking for answers to my questions and seeking something to mend my heart I guess…maybe the magus can help...

Regards.

p.s. - I did called my old friend, telling just about the smoking incident, promising never to touch cigarettes again… respecting promises is worth everything. And i will respect it. to the end.