Dear Mr Cigarette Manufacturer,
Its time to compliment you today.
Many years back i had slapped a friend, who smoked and entered my hostel room. I was a young chap then, with preconceived notions of what one should and should not do. Smoking and drinking came under the aegis of those 'one should not do' activities. Times have changed and like the aging leaves of autumn who stand the wrath of winters and finally wither off, that me has wrinkled away as well.
The new me survives on cigarettes. And what beauty and solace you bring to me, Mr Cigarette. Especially in times like these. When i scout for some soul in this world to talk my soul out. But find none. Not my mother. Not sister or father or even the person i am going to marry in a few months time from now. No friend to open my pains out for all that they possibly can do listening to my predicament is to listen and empathise. But given the backgrounds they come from they possibly wont be able to offer me active strategies.
And behold i dont want 'strategies' i just want the blessings of the 'cigarette smokers'. :)
The first snow of the season has occurred. Its cold today but that is only but a metaphore to my life. Life has become a queer concoction of conflicts, which i might want to handle and steer towards peaceful solutions. But know fully well, that i cant. It will be difficult. Handling never solved anything, the outcome, as Mr Godbole in Forsters 'A passage to India' will like to say: is defined.
Writh in pain i may, handling strategies i might devise, but the outcome shall still remain defined.
Mother understands it a little. But what can she do? Poor she, she feels it, but given her willing submission, she has opted to be the second player. Else perhaps she would have met somebody to my liking and steer my wedlock in that direction. And then again, who can assure that that particular outcome would have assured perfect harmony. Perfect harmony is a myth is it? I dont know but till then:
Blessed are the cigarette smokers.
Sister gets married off in a few months. To a very lovable chap. And i, to another lady a lovable woman. Unfortunately, the women in question, sister and she, will be trapped in the beholdings of us - the lovable chap and me, their respective husbands. And they might whimper about comparative situations, but the outcome still shall remain defined.
A moving out, is that a solution. Staying single for some more time, a punch on the face of a lady whom i have 'touched' gently and genuinely, is that a solution? Dont think so. How selfish would that be? Perhaps silence is golden only for such situations.
But till then Blessed are the cigarette smokers, and the song writers who write words like these:
"And here i sit hand on a telephone,
hearing a voice i know,
a couple of light years ago,
heading straight for a fall..."
Bless the fall Mr Cigarette Maker...
~ Amen, the cigarette smoker.
