whistling on my grave

Waking up today morning I found myself occupied by a state of indifference. Comfortably numb safely tucked into my cocoon of confusion. I had nothing to look forward to but another jejune day. Realizing I was out of cigarettes I ran to the nearest shop to buy a pack. I was heavily dependent on nicotine to keep me numb. I loved smoking. I’m not one of those smokers when confronted with the question of whether they smoke answer reluctantly that they do and with a heavy face confess that they’ve been trying to quit. I embrace the fact that my lips are forever wedded to this thin stick of soothing redemption! I’m not so favorably inclined to the other vices and I have my reasons. What I believe is this. A cigarette to me is the only thing u can expect something from and actually receive it. No other vice or virtue to me does the same. Alcohol could get you too high and a session of lovemaking could always tilt towards disappointment, falling in love could lead to betrayal. Ah but the cigarette. What u need is what you get. Nothing more nothing less… yes it kills eventually… but then again what doesn’t…love …success…fear…death…life…. in this case though the understanding is mutual. The cigarette is like a passionate lover. For the 5 minutes that u devour it. It burns for you. It dies for you. It lives for u and you alone. The understanding is mutual.if only people were cigarettes!! Now buying my pack from the same person I’ve been buying my pack fro for the past three years I realize that I’ve never asked him his name. Never smiled at him. Never said hello to. He was taken for granted. I turned around and asked him his name and went on to have a rather pleasant conversation with him about how the roads badly needed tarring. It didn’t matter to me I doubt it did to him either. It was pleseant all the same.

I drove back home bracing myself to confront the parent who I hardly spoke to anymore and then the words of a lady in a tom hanks movie reverberated in my head “ I didn’t leave because of the shouting I left because of the silence” it played on in my head. And I smiled a wry smile picturing myself on a date with the old lady. We’d have a lot to talk about. Reaching home I hurriedly got to my morning routine of making black coffee, which I couldn’t live without everyday. After my consumption of this bitter concoction I lit my first cigarette and resided myself on my throne with a copy of aeneid by Virgil trying to make sense of his take on life whilst I answered the call of nature. Halfway through the cigarette someone whistling a tune from somewhere outside struck me. I craned my ears and was awestruck when I realized that it was a bird of some sort humming away to glory. I sat transfixed mesmerized listening to this tune.it was like the bird was humming a bollywood tune it couldn’t get out of its head. It sounded pure sounded clear sounded wonderful. I sat listening. Finally it fluttered away leaving me in a state of absolute wonderment that lit in me a lust for my keyboard. I wonder what the bird was singing about. Or whom was it singing to. Was it singing bout world peace or America’s war on Iraq? Was it singing about Elvis or beavis or butthead? Was it singing for love or despair or death? Was it singing to you or me or her? To whoever or whatever it was singing. I am but grateful to it. For a memory divine. For words forgotten. For thought provoking and for making me fall in love with my country all over again for these minor specks of beauty withered around it. I am happy today for a bird sang on my grave today!!!