Monday, April 21, 2008

His Last Cigarette


It was the second summer of love for me.

The scorching sun set fire to the bitumen-heart of dusty streets.

I was having my second shower of the day, of sweat and grime

Profusion peeping from behind sweat glands

My favorite deodorant losing efficacy

Slowly in unseen, muted vapors.

I felt an uneasy calm haunting me,

Bullying me around the bylanes of Southern Avenue.

She had said, “I need to talk”.

Me, ever eager for stealing a tryst knew

Her impulses could never wait.

Still, this time, deep inside, anxiety breathed.

How bad could this be?

Many storms had left us tempered, bruised.

Yet, love had had its say.

In all its sweet stubbornness.




Eyes used to lazy siestas drowned in a sea of images.

The air, thinning in a moistureless mirage,

Carrying tender promises of sweet nothings brewed

Promises of a more humane evening beckoned.

-‘An Appointment’.

I smiled at myself.

Far down the dreary road, spent souls prayed for relief, paid for water.

Summers in this city surely didn't promote love.

The defiant zombie.

Charmed with love, kissed with death.

I moved.

In a single minded motivated motion.

Where? I did not know.

I was waiting for my answers. When would she come?

It was about time now.

I could smell the sweet lavender of her talcum with my eyes closed

Soft, soothing, reassuring.

It was her only perfume.

Her tresses made careless riddles at me,

As occasional sighs of stale air teased them, trounced them

And went back defeated, fatigued.

Like me.




Leaning against a rusting post, I lit up.

Curls of white smoke, in their sinuous ascent sneered at me.

They were with her now. Traitors!

She hated tobacco, smoke and fire.

I loved them all, within a single delightful wrap

They called 'Cigarette'.

Smoke made her eyes red,

As red as the setting sun we were audience to, sometimes.

Times we discussed Tomorrow and its Bliss

Today, she was late. Unusually.

My loneliness bought me courage to protest my wait

I rehearsed my lines to get even.

She knew my patience hated being tested.

And she loved that look on me.



Now, I could see her down the lane.

A light sky blue on her, cooling my eyes.

Distance diminishing with her every step.

I had already forgotten my lines.

Rebuke had escaped its rickety prison inside my ribs.

But, there was no playful annoyance in her today

A Duchess miffed at disservice.

Her eyes were unadorned

Naked with an emotion unknown to me.

What could it be?

She knew how I loved kohl on them

How I could stare at them for eternity.

She always tossed those loving gazes

Into the water of the lake.

They sank, gasping for breath.

Rippling out to their deaths.

I could only sigh. She laughed.

She said it was late.

Always.

And left.



Today, she glanced between my fingers.

As familiarity emerged in her eyes.

A blend of distress and discomfort.

Confused, I took another drag at my stick.

Simmering in a telling sacrifice for me,

It could provide no wisdom today

As I grappled for answers.

I waited for that known sweep of disgust

Emanating from her sleek fingers,

Grounding my prized ‘India King’.

I waited for that familiar look of hurt

To reflect on her hazel eyes.

Nothing like that today.

Something had moved.



More sheepish every second, I stood.

Silence dawned. Love waited.

Words trickled in a crisis

I walked. We walked.

In her eyes I saw a storm,

Nestling its fury, exploding inwards.

She spoke at last.

She was leaving.

Far off lands held more promises.

Promises of progress, avenues of learning.

How I loathed my nursery rhymes now.

How I hated quantum physics.

That cruel idol of ‘Education’ had had its revenge.

And wasn’t it sweet.

My helpless eyes looked up

A bead of pregnant emotion had gathered cloud

At the corner of her eyes.

I could never see her cry. Something snapped within

A deluge of emotions arrived in abandon.

She cried. We mourned. Hours flew.




She whispered, “We will meet”.

The skeptic in me jeered.

The boulevard was replete with memories.

As we walked in silent vigil

We trampled them, muting their voices.

Forever.

Our walk was labored. Long and viscous.

Still, it had to end.

Roads never went on forever. I knew that.

Our last walk together. Perhaps, this was.

I put the last cigarette to my lips,

Waiting for her to throw it away.

One last time.

How I longed for her hand to move,

In one final stroke of playful disdain.

The last act of love at work.

She stared back at me

Her eyes the colour of a pallid evening-sky,

Denuding me of all my strength and weaknesses

For the first time ever

I watched her

As she held the light for me.



18 comments:

Llama said...

Brilliant. I didn't see the twist coming, and I loved how vivid it all was. And some of the lines:
"The defiant zombie. Charmed with love, kissed with death."

"That cruel idol of ‘Education’ had had its revenge.
And wasn’t it sweet."

I'm a fan.

Noisy Autist said...

fascinating. the words draw vivid pictures.

Bone said...

and that made you quit? the fact that she didn't throw the cigarette away but held the light for you? :D

What's In A Name ? said...

# P.C - Good that you like it. Sometimes old poems seems so foolish.


# N.A- 'vivid' seems to be the operative word here. :) Thanks.


# if- well, I DON'T smoke. I never did. Living vicariously. :)

Bone said...

oma ki bhalochhele tui!! :P

What's In A Name ? said...

*blush blush*

... said...

Iiish!!smoking vicariously?that is passive smoking right? :P
Gee!
but the poem is bherybhery nice.bhery different from all your other poems.

WritingsForLife said...

wow... you are just so good with words...

I cant praise enough :-)

Amazing Graze said...

like this much. :)
specially the end.

What's In A Name ? said...

# clouds- orey!! ki rr bujhbi....... bondhuder jalaay...onek dhowaai khetey hoy.....porokheey..kaarey bole 'passively'. :)

rrr bhery different keno re ??? ( "Thanks" to goes anyways ).


#raaji- after a long loooooong time, I see. :) Glad u liked this oldie.


#A.G- Purpose served then. :)

Whats in a name.......... said...

loved it!!!

Macadamia The Nut said...

Brilliantly written! I could picture the whole thing in my head!

P.S. If she still could 'cry' why would she light up his cancer-stick? One can move away without wanting the other dead innit?

What's In A Name ? said...

#Miss namesake- Glad me.

#mac- Customary Thanks. :)

answer to p.s- nno noo. She lit his 'cancer-stick' because there was slowly a sense of detachment setting in coupled with a fresh clarity of vision that , "Let him die a slow death instead. Anyways I am leaving him......he should thank his lucky stars he isn't gettin a quick one." :P

ad libber said...

Ok, I read it, and whats more awesome is that I understood it without much distress (ppl, let this be a warning, a student of English Literature can only learn to appreciate poems if there is a guide book in front of them).

It was very beautiful, and rather sad, and Damn, I don't need this before my Maths exam :(

p.s. It is very beautiful.

Macadamia The Nut said...

Ahhh! Gotcha :D

What's In A Name ? said...

# a.l- Should throw a party now that you have started to understand my poetry. :D great!


#mac- tht was a easy one. :P

little boxes said...

i loved this poem...the twist is completely unpredictable!

What's In A Name ? said...

# l.b - It was designed to be so. :P