Confession of a smoker

My biggest regret yet is the day I held a cigarette, lit it and took the very first drag. It was three years ago, near my college with a friend of a friend. I wish I could erase myself from that moment, then the entire time ahead till now would have been something else. Not that I am dying, but it would be a great achievement for myself to quit it. At times I have been an intense smoker, I would feel the smoke going in and then coming out, every muscle relaxed. I would forget the issue I was frustrated about. Every time, for a momentary happiness I would light a cigarette and smoke away my worries.

A smoker never cares about the weather. If he needs a cigarette, he would walk a mile to buy it, stand under the sun and would not really care about the throat infection he has. I am unfortunately one of them. I have spent thousands of rupees on buying cigarettes, and have literally burnt the money. Obviously, it is not a revelation that I have been a fool. But it took me a lot of time to be brave and write about it. A smoker always finds an excuse, a reason to smoke and so did I. Million times I have promised myself in my head to give up but then I would feel desperate and crippled.  Crippled because, an addiction chains you up in a way that you forget, you had a life once without it.

I live in New Delhi, where probably after every fifty meters there is a store to buy cigarettes called the ‘panwaadi’. I believe I have befriended a few of them. It is like they are calling you, whispering in your ears to light them. There are too many options and too less of my will power. The government has a funny scheme though, it raises the price. Funny because, when people did not stop putting onions in their food, why on earth will they stop buying a cigarette due to price hike? But anyway, I am choosing to believe that it is helping somebody.

The question is, why did all of this hit me today?  I was with a friend the entire day, watching movie and having lunch. It was a fun day, where at the end I realized I had just smoked once the entire day. I became so proud of myself that I thought to reward myself with a smoke. So, for that, after dropping her home I went to the nearest store and asked the guy for a pack of classic mild. To my surprise he replied “won’t this kill you madam?” To which I replied “but your selling it still aren't you?” I didn't expect myself to answer him back at that point. It was a small incident, as far as I know myself, I should have ignored the matter. But I couldn't, it got stuck in my head as I drove back home. At the last traffic light, just before reaching home, without thinking of the pros and cons, I threw the pack out of my window and kept driving.

I do not know if I have quit or planning to do so. Even if I am somewhere in my consciousness, I would probably curse myself for throwing away the cigarettes. I might buy it again the next day or I might steal away a few from my father’s pack. But for the very first time it hit me that I don’t have to be so desperate, and that I too have the guts to throw away the whole pack in the garbage. It is just a beginning; there is a long way to go. The frequent temptations ahead would make the process tougher every day.

Solitude

Google defines solitude as the state or situation of being alone. But every other person who doesn't sit alone and enjoys a cup of coffee thinks its being lonely. Solitude is a choice, a ‘me time’ that all of us deserve. My choice of place is the café coffee day near the Taj hotel in New Delhi. In the winters, when very few people get up early in the morning, I choose to sit there and be alone, away from the buzzing city. It is not just a time for self introspection, nothing that deep,  just a place to be thankful for the delightful winter after the scorching heat. My kind of lazy day starts with the first coffee at CCD and listening to some good music. Each person has his own place of being alone. A bathroom singer chooses the shower, a gym freak has the gym, a speed lover goes for a ride and a coffee lover like me goes to a café.

My friends believe that its boring but what they don’t understand is that, not always one looks for an adventure. It is alright to be still for a while and admire the season, feeling alive, even when not laughing and screaming. I sit there expressionless, earphones plugged in and fall in love with ‘nothing else matters’ by Metallica over and over again. The coffee smell, to me the most erotic fragrance and the cold breeze making my nose red, the high point of my day. The luxurious cars passing by, into the Taj distract me though, but I don’t mind that. After all, a Mercedes is always a treat to the eyes.

I have never tried writing though. I believe I might get good ideas and content. But have definitely studied for my semester exams. Putting the phone into silent mode and rolling up my sleeves I would begin my syllabus. A little while later, the place would start to fill up with students like me, giving each other hi fives. I would always bunk my first lecture in my college and observe people, a group of chirpy girls showing off their new bags and the guys being like ‘whats up bro!’.But if you sit there for long, you would be able to make a clear distinction between the seniors and the freshers. While the seniors are focusing on the menu, the younger crowd is worried about the next lecture.

A few joggers would pass by too, confused if they should come inside and rest for a bit or run another mile. You could actually notice the dilemma on their face. By this time I am in a song switching mode and have ordered for the next round of coffee. Phone begins to ring and my hello meets with a ‘where are you? Come soon to the class’. Hurrying up with my coffee is probably the last thing I would do. Finally, it is time to leave and join the others.

I always knew I would miss my college days but I didn’t realize until a few months back that I would miss the place where I would be alone the most.

A thought in the middle of the night

As one grows up, things like late night clubbing and dancing to the beat of a kind of music called the EDM (electronic dance music) looks more attractive. All the world’s joy is received from being high. For me high was my childhood, the excitement that came from watching T.V after school or reading my book of fables is still unbeatable. I am still amazed by Fred Flintstones and his pet dinosaur ‘Dino’. I am not ashamed, that I have never read ‘Hamlet’ or ’Macbeth’, I still enjoy J.K Rowling and her fantasy world of ‘Hogwarts’. I still cry when I fight with my friends or when my mother scolds me. Interestingly, people would criticize even if the person is emotional. Only few might understand that being in touch with your emotional side is brave. If only swords symbolized chivalry, then this planet would have come to an end long back and no civilization would have sustained.

I will probably be judged for being childish, but for me, keeping the little kid alive inside maintains my sanity. Each one of us misses the innocence of our past, but very few of us is brave enough to accept that.

 Learned men of our society believe that teenage is the most confusing time of one’s lifetime, I refuse to agree to that. For me my twenties hit me the hardest. It is the time when we all actually stop using the phrase ‘when I’ll grow up’. As little people, we would dream big. Dream about being an astronaut or a scientist. In our twenties, somehow those dreams are lost and we join the race of billion runners. As children, people around would appreciate us for being mischievous and encourage us to imagine big. But with time we are tagged with the percentage scored in school or college, criticized for taking a ‘road not taken’, laughed at for the slightest mistake. It’s amusing how hypocrisy reaches its peak and becomes an integral part of our lives very conveniently.
Speaking of hypocrisy, it is not confined to only strangers and the extended family, it is totally nurtured by the parents. Ideally they are supposed to be a child's backbone not just money wise but support wise. And somehow the support and guidance ideology mixes together to produce what i call 'constant bickering'. And then it takes an ugly turn too, the phase of imposing their own dreams on the kid they were supposed to be supportive of. I have totally witnessed a situation, where my mother was appreciating '3 idiots' for its concept and the idea of liberty in one's life and well, when it came to me, it was declared that i make bad decisions and hence be told what not to do in excruciating details.
So anyway, my point is that I thank God for creating people like Joseph Barbera, William Hanna and George Sidney who Created the Hanna Barbera productions so that people like me can escape into their world whenever we want to.

After a few drinks...

After a few drinks, the mind works in its most unusual ways. It is free and carefree. We allow ourselves to react in a way that our sane minds would never approve. It is possible that we might regret what we did the next day or curse the hangover to an extent that we make a fake promise to ourselves, not to touch another glass ever. But of course that doesn't work. And the chain of thoughts, the desire to do the craziest things and the wish to sing are the additional features that comes along.

Everything and everybody looks beautiful and nothing is wrong with the world. The continuous appeal to our friends ‘I aint drunk, dude!’ comes later. I enjoy my drinks, but I am not an alcoholic. My glass of wine doesn't say ‘I am heartbroken’, my drink says ‘waiter! Repeat!’ because I am happy.

The staircase becomes a challenge though, in the middle of merry making, very tricky business! I don’t know about others, but I put all my strength in making myself walk straight. Each step cautiously taken, because you don’t want to fall down. And if u do by any chance, should try to get up on your own as your drunk friends are the least helpful people at that time. The joy of making it on your own to the car is what I call true success. I got a driver, so in no circumstances I am promoting drinking and driving.

The lemon theory! It doesn't work. You cannot immediately make your friend suck a lemon and expect the alcohol to just evaporate from the body. But if you desperately want your buddy to puke on your new shoes, then go ahead.

The upside down ride! Ever tried holding your head to the back of a chair looking up? Alcohol works at its best for me. Silly things like looking up the ceiling and trying to notice every blade of the fan is fun.

The head banging to the music you would hate if not drunk. The unnatural moves and slides to the Bollywood songs. And most importantly, having friends to cheer you throughout the way, the three most important ‘mantras’ to enjoy every sip after a hard and long week you just had. There would be some ‘how I met your mother moments’ and some ‘f.r.i.e.n.d.s’ moments. Sharing your favorite episodes is the right thing to do and the best time to do it too. A Saturday evening with friends at a bar charges me up for the next week.

So, in my humble opinion, let the older people judge you for being a beer enthusiast, and let them comment things like ‘ye aajkal ke bacche!’  because they were once us, and even they didn't care then.