All his life he had counted upon his luck with the cigarette. This three inch stick had shown him life and love. The cigarette dared him to take life’s challenges. It had all started with a game, he recollected. He had been challenged in his college days to rob a millionaire who was getting drunk inside his house. The challenge was – getting into the house of the millionaire and coming out with 10 lac Rupees worth of ornaments. And yes all this was to be done between the time his friends had lighted and smoked the last puff out of their cigarette.
That day he had come out with 25 lacs worth of gold and hard cash, with two drags still remaining on his friends stick. He dropped the money sack and smoked the last puff. The game took over his instincts. His friends changed but the cigarette remained. He became richer and richer. He had all the time in the world but his profession lasted till the cigarette dangled on his lips. It was his stop watch. It was his conscience. It was slowly taking over his subconscious. He had met this beautiful young lady at a pub in Mumbai. Three drags down and he had known almost everything about her. On the ninth puff he had offered her a drink and as he tossed the bud into the ash tray, she was going with him in his red car. He had found his love over a cigarette. She turned out to be a sweetheart and him a passionate killer. Romancing into the nights of his tenth floor residence, he could bet on his pack of cigarettes anytime.
But today was a different story all together. His wife was lying on the ICU bed with the inhaler on her mouth. This was the first time she was inhaling pure oxygen after their first chance meeting. Our hero went outside and consulted the doctor. She had no time left, he was assured. The only thing that flashed into his mind was the cigarette. He took out a stick and flicked it between his lips. A tear fell from his eyes as he wished into the skies. “You will be all right sweetheart, before this cigarette ends its life.”
That day he had come out with 25 lacs worth of gold and hard cash, with two drags still remaining on his friends stick. He dropped the money sack and smoked the last puff. The game took over his instincts. His friends changed but the cigarette remained. He became richer and richer. He had all the time in the world but his profession lasted till the cigarette dangled on his lips. It was his stop watch. It was his conscience. It was slowly taking over his subconscious. He had met this beautiful young lady at a pub in Mumbai. Three drags down and he had known almost everything about her. On the ninth puff he had offered her a drink and as he tossed the bud into the ash tray, she was going with him in his red car. He had found his love over a cigarette. She turned out to be a sweetheart and him a passionate killer. Romancing into the nights of his tenth floor residence, he could bet on his pack of cigarettes anytime.
But today was a different story all together. His wife was lying on the ICU bed with the inhaler on her mouth. This was the first time she was inhaling pure oxygen after their first chance meeting. Our hero went outside and consulted the doctor. She had no time left, he was assured. The only thing that flashed into his mind was the cigarette. He took out a stick and flicked it between his lips. A tear fell from his eyes as he wished into the skies. “You will be all right sweetheart, before this cigarette ends its life.”
gr8 idea....nice thought... kp up the gud wrk...:)
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