I inhale deeply, the smell assailing my senses, prickling the inside of my nose, feeling the sharp, putrid smell float down like cold ice down to my once pure lungs. I observe the swirling patterns the white smoke made against the dark canopy of the night sky. It was a starless sky, but then in a place like Mumbai, the street lights & high rise apartments shone brighter than any stars. For as long as I can remember, I think those swirling patterns have always fascinated me – smooth flowing smoke, making love to itself, disappearing into nothingness like the end of a beautiful poetry.
Another cigarette. Another seven minutes of my life, wasted, as those stats say. Wasted? Not quite - wasted would be the last seven months of this thing called life. Knowing you, being with you. Disappointment. Now that my love, was a waste. This? This was just timeout. Maybe even getting back to reality, real life for starters. As I saw the street lights shine like little fireflies in the side view mirror, looking at the glowing orange of the lighted tip, I once again thought of you.
