Friday, July 1, 2011

Smoke !!


Saw him disgusted,
making a  face, 
still he took it in his shivering hand.
Following the style,
Held it between the hands,
with a fear, he narrowed his eye
to meet "the gang-leader's eyes.",
who stared at him, to start.
He, with a hue of a terror, smiled.
Slowly his hand started reaching his mouth,
and then,
it partially disappeared inside it.
it came out,
Allying with lots of smoke
Then his fearful smile,
changed to a proud one,
A pat on the back he got by "the gang".
And he started the fashion again.
One day asked him why?
He said
"We love the hiss and puff of it."
I had seen them  practice it everyday!
After they finish,
they crush it under their feet,
Acting cool,
and walk as if nothing happened.
They don't know how much has happened!
Tar and soot inside their body,
Covering as if holding tight a loved one,
They are rotting their own body,
Are they not scared of it?
No.
They say
we end our miseries with this.
We forget what bad happened to us,
if we take it in.
No matter how much you stop,
Its a pleasure. Can it be ceased?
I saw him again,
But now,
in the hospital.
Lifeless as stone.
Face not what I had seen once.
Miseries, that he thought he removed,
with the small tar-pipe,
covered his face.
What is the use?
It just gives death,
Stop it.
Leave it.
Or hold on, and die.
Its not cool, its not trendy.
Life is a gift,
Don’t smoke it off.
Miseries are obstacles,
Don’t soot it off.
Tackle them.
Don’t blow your life for them.
Don’t die for living a misery.
Happiness would come,
It’s the rule of life’s helm.

1 comment:

Manali said...

well my posts go uncommented... so i thot to comment on this..
btw read the whole poem.... ha ha ha
found it goood!!!!!!!!!!!