It never reached the moon
did it?
our cigarette smoke
only our youth
hung circled, pale and cold.
If you choose to smoke alone and get a sense loneliness, then it must surely be a ramification of a bad company. This entanglement of deadpan exterior superiority has enchanted quite a few people. Facades costs nothing but they say there's always a price to pay. I am not amazed. I remember in the second year of my college days, when I travelled to Bharatpur, Rajasthan with an colleague for a two day trip to the Keoladeo National Park or Bharatpur bird sanctuary as it is was formerly mentioned.
We stayed in a dingy little room of a rural town of Bharatpur. The village mirrored negligence of authority. Quite unlike, the highly dramatic government commericals of rural schemes outreach with faces of content and hope. The dusty roads was the sign that we had made it. It didn't take long for us to map out the places to visit. We settled in for the night in the shabby lodge with a pack of cigarette in the dark room with nascent touch of moonlight through the big window. The conversation really begins here.
I don't do smoke circles. It gets really tough to explain sometimes. The rules and the protocols may make one like a hard nut but it surely helps you to create balance in your journey of the spirit. When you are on such a tenuous journey it is beneficial to have the most pleasant company that accompanies you well.
"It attracts quite a lot female attention, right." he said with glint of Bollywood dreams in his eyes. I answer it best with silence and let people run their imagination until they gain a level of insight of their own thought. I've come a long way so to speak. I don't keep count on all theatrical mania that outflows in indecent amounts, I sit back and observe tendencies of whimsical rut. When you are carrying the torch, it is only fair that you bear the intensity of heat. Quick in his scrutiny and hapless in his ability to grasp, my co traveller pushed further to inquire about my motives.
So why is it that you don't talk much and prefer to smoke alone if it's not about the list of options I rolled out. Not one of them hit the nail. I am not slave to gratification. I have often been tried on grounds of pretense. I am not surprised for people who swim on surface, it is where the debris accumulates and that lumber is the only thing you pick up. What is it like being a solitary smoker.
I don't smoke alone I smoke with my spirit
that drives me forward for another day
It's not that I need rolled papers to communicate
I don't wish to engage in words so fickle and philosophies so blare
It's exhausting to scrape off the labels
You confuse me for a smug so self behaved
reading into my every action,
I can only imagine what disturbs your pleasure centres
when you fall prey to envy
Your weaknesses consumes my energy to uplift you further.
When I'm lost in a voice of my own
that sets me away from the placid horizon
this is the moment of my dullness
when I sit and cry about life
what are we doing and what could we have been done
The boats going past the horizon
have sailed long ago, while I'm busy elevating the seekers
the questions persists
All I am left with is the silence behind our words
where we meet in our musings
who is bearing the lost torch against hunger, suffering and poverty.
who are leading our world to a dearth of humanity.
The cost of sanity is a certain level of alienation in our society and smoking checks well on that list. Well we've looked at use
traditional use of smoking cannabis in Indian culture for spiritual purposes before. It serves the process of Sadhana. There is a huge difference between usage of smoking in Sadhana. It must not be confused with typical smoking jacks lamenting about disproportionate ideas of life.
I renunciate to
the world of my dreams with every puff. I don't mind going against the tide when there's a moon up there that lights up the rural background as majestically as the urban township. It is just the lights in urban set up has blinded the people of the resonance they enamour. While we sit here, under the moments of inspiration, watch the smoke run out of the window, like a witness to the moments of the moon light.
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