Skip to main content

A Box of Cigarettes

I had this feeling that whoever smokes is a bad person unless I became one.
It started from hating cigarettes to loving cigarettes to hating them again.
A box of cigarettes is what a part of my life story revolves around. I saw them in the hands of my crush making me feel anxious to know if she smoked and angry to find out, yes what if she smokes.
Than I had a question playing with my mind whether it is rational to judge her for what she is? will I stop liking her if she smokes?
It started making sense that if she smokes, its her choice and its her life. She should get the privilege to choose what she wants .
After that, the box of cigarettes in her hand never disturbed me again and I started to fall in love with boldness she would present.
And than one day I was sitting with her in my alone time. talking to her about life’s crisis and fame, when she reached for her bag and slipped her hand inside it to get the box of cigarettes with a lighter this time. I saw her smoking for the first time in my life and then she offered me to take a drag which I denied.
I would see her smoke a lot after that and she had stopped offering me the drag. I would sit besides her and laughed and talked in that smoke, thinking that one day she would love me with all my childish hopes.
One day I asked for a drag wishing to impress her but lost my control over it and I coughed for next half hour.
It than became a routine to share her cigarettes. It gave me opportunity to spend most of my time with her.
The box of cigarettes increased my chances of meeting and looking at her lips and the lucky smoke touching it every time.
One day she took a farewell to continue with a new life leaving me behind with all the unspoken feelings in my mind. The heart would hustle to see her once but nothing of her I found again.
The box of cigarettes was all I had got which helped me to feel her with the kick on my brain. The box increased their numbers in my life and even if she wasn’t there, she was the one it always defined.
I felt my chest turning dry as leaf and my mouth hot as a lava. My lips had turned hard and my mind was not there where I was.
I hated smoking but still kept doing it only to feel the itch on my throat making me sound very low. I would have lost all I had, only if I wouldn’t have controlled my mind to drive it away from the box of cigarettes.
Cigarettes smoking kills.


Popular posts from this blog

Shruti - The Feeling of Being Loved

Shruti sometimes, is laid back amidst the mind distracting situations. She manages to ignore her chatty mind and just indulge in the present moment. She may be sometimes anxious, excited and nervous but she surely knows how to live in the moment. - The Feeling of Being loved Book Description Shruti, a software engineer has a wish to be truly loved by someone. In her journey, she has two companions - Meera and her talking rational mind. Her idea of love and respect guides her to take some strong decisions. The feeling of being loved is the story of those rational decisions taken by a distracted mind to make things alright. Author Raviraj Mishra Born in Pune, India is a writer and an entrepreneur. He is the author of the book - The Feeling of Being Loved. He is known for his rhythmic writing. He prefers writing and reading fiction. He enjoys creating characters and building up a story around them. He has written around 40 articles which are available on his blog www.raviraj

The Beginning

It was evening and we were on our seperate bikes. We had some numb conversation about your friend you used to like. I saw your eyes filled and I felt a twinge in my heart. It had been a week or so, when I had told you my feelings for you were hard.  It was twist in my life. I thought I lost it. My love for you had grown all wide, but in that evening I came to know, maybe it was him you liked.  I thought of leaving the road of your life. And I remember I tried to convince you, that for you, he was right.  I was talking with a smile, but deep down my heart lied. It wanted you to think only about me, because I was the one who dreamt of a whole new life.  I was sure till than, I would never find anyone like you. My eyes when shut, could see you. My ears in silence would hear you. My hands in emptiness would feel you.  Your words were clear in my head. Thinking about you, I never had to make up a sentence you said.  Talking about you, I would get carried away. J

First day with the moon

Searching for the reasons to talk. Looking out for ways to be together. Waiting all night for the next day to show up. Aren’t these some symptoms of love. It was a new day for both of us. Our life had changed with just three words.  The twist and turns, the ups and downs we experienced alone till now. We were in a mood to forget all and create our world, beautiful and small.  The first morning of love, I am sure it was a very different feeling we felt. There was an anxiety, some nervousness and way too much freaking out. My lips were haunted with smiles and my mind was all ready to shout. My fingers couldn’t handle the shiver and my eyes were stuck on my phone. I looked at your pictures and practiced being normal. Took my bike keys and stepped out of my door. I was excited to see you and live this new day, we were about to explore. My mind couldn’t stop thinking about you. I counted each second I moved. Every minute I was some meters closer to you.  It w