Monday, December 19, 2011
Posted by Nabeel K at 10:43 AM
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
DG (Usman)'s Quit Smoking Story:
You wake up with a shiver, the darkness takes it time to set in. You take a deep breath, smack your lips and get out of the sheets. You sit on the edge for the longest time waiting for the ringing in your head to stop. You try to breathe, only one lung seems functional, electric fucking jolts in your chest. FUCK. Breathe slow, breathe.
And so it begins. Today is the tomorrow of yesterday. And you fucking hate it.
Getting up, dressing up, going to wherever.
Greet people, meet people, put up a smile, wince at them, whisper vulgarities and the day is still young.
Go to the “smoking room”. Pat your pockets, feel the crisp packet of Davidoff’s, the lighter and a packet of supari, to kill the smell after the cigarette.
Comfortable on a sofa, pull the table close, the ash tray closer. Pull out a cigarette, pull out the lighter, fire it up, light it up.
Bitter smoke, bitter taste and you try to smile. Nicotine will make everything alright.
Tilt your head back and close your eyes.
You fall off a cliff, plunge hard into a black pool of filth, lungs fill up with acid and your attempts to scream are muffled by smoke.
Open your eyes again, pay attention to the chatter, try to smile, try to talk.
The bitterness seeps in from the bottom of your stomach and boils up like a volcano trying to lift the 10 ton iron block in your stomach. It fails.
You try to be fair, you try to be kind, you try to be nice to people. But you can’t. The chatter grows louder in your ears and the filth finds every vein, every nerve, every muscle and starts to strain it. An old unfamiliar pain. A blind man taking a walk in the forest, midnight unpleasantness.
Stub it finally. End it. Stop feeling like a 70 year old impotent douche bag.
Get back to whatever you were doing, smelling like a chimney, everyone maintains a distance. Utilize the supari, munch it, chew it, roll it around for a long time without purpose or intent. Swallow the sickly paste and drink a glass of water.
Water. Burns through the gums, a stream of glass shards down the neck.
The phone rings and you jump. Blood fades away from your veins and the hammers knock on the heartbeat. So scared that you don’t even want to close your eyes. You can’t even close your eyes if you wanted to. Coz you’re just scared. Your eyes burn with pain. But you won’t give in. Coz you’re scared.
And then you go back “outside”, you go to the “smoking room”. You go anyfuckingplace where you would supposedly find peace and solace for the 6 minutes you smoke.
But you don’t want to smoke. You know you will feel like shit. You know you will tumble into the filth pit and you know you the 10 ton block will fall hard at the bottom of your stomach.
But you can’t stop. You want to smoke. You don’t want to quit. WHY? Why the fuck would you torture yourself? Is this self injury? Is this rebellion? Is this hate? Is this an escape?
NO! NO! Please NO!
But you light up one anyway. Feels like kissing a shotgun. Get shot down with every puff. Every inhale fucks you up a bit more. Inch by inch, bit by bit an anxiety builds up and washes over you like a panic attack you don’t deserve.
Eyes swell up, throat tightens and the world seems to have come to an end.
Stub it. You’re done. Repeat this ritual 6 times a day. One after every meal, one after every cup of tea.
Better living through a Nine Inch Nails song. Better living being a Nine Inch Nails song.
I got my head but my head is unraveling
Can't keep control can't keep track of where it's traveling
I got my heart but my heart's no good
You're the only one that's understood
I come along but I don't know where you're taking me
I shouldn't go but you reaching back and shaking me
Turn off the sun pull the stars from the sky
The more I give to you the more I die!
But I don’t want to die. I just want to live.
So you stop. Don’t smoke. Just stop. Don’t smoke. Stay away from smokers.
Does it work?
You wake up with a shiver, the darkness takes it time to set in. You take a deep breath, smack your lips and get out of the sheets. You sit on the edge for the longest time waiting for the ringing in your head to stop. You try to breathe. Your lungs fill up with sweet cool air, every inch of your lungs comforts the air that goes in. and you let out. Feels good. This is going to be a good day. Lets go!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Well, not really. But I made a promise to myself on this very blog many times over - to quit before I get married. And that gives me two months now... So here's what I've done so far...
I bought a carton of cigarettes. Yes, yes, I did. It doesn't make sense but it does to me. I'm a smoker. Maybe another smoker understands this. Apart from the obvious cost savings, my thought process said, "Okay, you wanna quit right? So let this be your last carton. You can start cutting back with a plan, with this last carton. OR! You can smoke all you want, and once the carton finishes, you can stop buying cigarettes. Either ways, when you finish your carton, you can't buy cigarettes. You can beg/borrow/steal but not buy. And then let's take it from there."
(Wow, I didn't know my 'thought process' had a personality!)
My oldest and closest friend is also in town, and he's as religious as I am not. And because he gives the Islamic month of Moharram a lot of significance, he told me he was going to quit starting the 1st of Moharram. Have yet to check on him to see how he's doing. But it's cool that I have a partner to quit with.
Anyway, so I'm down to my last two packets, and it's Saturday night. Every Saturday morning, I always leave home with two packs of cigarettes, because it's usually a long night, and I always run out of cigarettes. So what now? I didn't cut down at all ever since I bought the carton, but my consumption did vary (on an hourly basis, depending on my mood). And now these are my last two packets.
Sure, these aren't exactly the ideal conditions for me to quit smoking, but still, why NOT take the chance if I can?
What will happen next? Let's find out. Stay tuned.
Btw, click here to read about Barack's latest quit attempt (he's been at it since 9 months and going strong!)
Thursday, October 14, 2010
People Are Different
Posted by Nabeel K at 3:26 AM
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
*crisp sarcasm oozing out of this post*
Knowing that nothing turns kids into pleasure seeking, nicotine craving, carcinogenic-sucking zombies more than seeing a film character light up, the good folks at the Centers for Disease Control are suggesting that film makers give an R rating to all films that depict tobacco imagery.
Fortunately kids don't find gunplay, martial arts, explosions, car chases, dirty jokes, and laying some length to a hot babe cool, or we would have quite a quandary on our hands. Then again, the CDC could be onto something.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Seeing a man in his weakest moment is not a sight most of us would want to witness. It has been a typical Monday work-day, and I was taking my second smoke break of the day around 5 pm when a co-worker from another department joined me in the empty smoke room. He was wearing sneakers, dark blue denims and a striped shirt. He must be in his early 20s, with long hair and a beard – typical rockstar look. We shook frail hands and he asked me for a light. He sat down and lit his cigarette. I took my lighter back and secured it in my pocket.
Me: So how was the weekend?
A few seconds passed, so I said, “never mind,” and smiled at him warmly. He took a deep puff and shook his head. At this point I assumed he must be having one of those days, and decided it was best not to pay any attention to him. Just then, I heard a slight whimpering sound coming from his direction. I opened my eyes and raised my head to look at him.
I saw no tears, but I could tell he was crying or about to cry.
Crying, as I could tell by his voice and facial expressions, he wailed, “I b-broke my fast… be-because I needed to smoke so bad!”
Not sure what to say, I stayed silent. He stopped after a few long moments.
This person was addicted to nicotine – perhaps even more than I have ever been. And his faith required him to fast in the month of Ramadan, and he was trying – but he was weak, perhaps. Or maybe his nicotine urge was stronger than his will power. I can relate to him though. Working a 9am to 5pm shift and fasting from 4am to 7pm must be tough.
As I try to categorize, I ask myself, what is the problem here? What is the lesson? Addiction is bad? Nicotine is bad? Or faith is not faith unless it is strong enough to pass the qualification of being faithful? Or maybe it is lack of ‘knowing thyself’? He should be able to assess if he is fit to fast in order to make sure he doesn’t end up breaking it mid-way.
Whatever the case, I saw a man in his weakest moment today, and it was no pleasant.
I’ve been thinking that it has been a while since my last attempt, and I have made a promise to myself that I will quit smoking before my marriage, and marriage prospects loom in the air these days, so I decided I need to pick one of these days when I won’t smoke a single cigarette – the whole 24 hours. Let’s see if I can do it. I’ve been smoking way too much these days.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Posted by Nabeel K at 12:46 PM