Why did I begin to smoke?
Why did I begin to smoke. This wasn't a question but a statement.
Keeping up with the chastity of life, wasn't enough. It had to turn complex.
When did I decide to do it? Was it when my parents fought so much that I had to hide in a corner and try to comfort myself whiletears fell uncontrollably from my bruised eye?
Or was it when they bullied me for the first time?
Maybe it was when I was getting high on painkillers to numb the pain my siblings caused.
I was already floating in a bottomless pit of darkness.
Then came the light I was so desperately waiting for.
The first flick of the lighter was like a light from the redeemer. It was like a saving grace, long forgotten.
The first puff pulled me out of the dark hell into a burning one. At least this one had some light.
It was like I came close to obtaining nirvana.
Puff by puff the smoke rose and swirled. It was well until the redeeming light suddenly disappeared.
I fell back intothe darkness I hoped to escape.
If this was the first time I'd lost hope, I'd let the light go, but this time, the beacon was in my possession.
I controlled the halo now.
In my hope of seeingthe darkness flee, I lit it another one.
Once, twice, thrice, I tried harder.
Harder you know, but the darkness came back.
This is when I realised, the light needed to be constant.
So that's what I decided to do.
I lit one after another.
In fact, I am on my thirtieth cigarette for the day as I write this.
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