See, I’m mostly quite a docile ewe-lamb. I shy away from conflicts. I let myself be bilked of a coupla bucks (without so much as a whimper), by crooks of autowallahs who shrug “Chutta nahi hai” (No change, to the uninitiated) when I hand them more than the fare money. I don’t wish a pox on the house of the #$%&* who steps on my toes while squeezing his way to his seat in the theatre, without so much as a quiver of a lip in my direction, by way of an apology. I don’t even protest when a generously endowed middle-aged woman, barrels right through me in a crowded public bus and takes the seat I had been politely waiting for a nice, old gentleman to vacate. But, I do draw the line at being rudely roused from the rare, fortuitous nice dream I may happen to have. I mostly have incredibly dull dreams, so you’ll understand my annoyance at being woken up before it could get…er, interesting.
There I was, dancing with Hugh Jackman(of X-men fame, without the hideous Wolverine sideburns, of course. Sheesh, what do you take me for?), to the tango theme from Scent of a woman; dancing the slow, sweet tango (suitably altered for a “U” certificate. I’m an incorrigible prude, you know). See, it doesn’t matter if you are snorting now because you think Hugh and I can’t dance. That was my dream and this is my blogspot, so shut your yapper. (And please, please, please read on). And pop! went my dream. (Oh, Hugh don’t go!).
It is one thing to be woken up by the invigorating smell of freshly brewed coffee and quite another to be shaken awake from your R.E.M sleep by cigarette smoke. I knew the perpetrator of this egregious crime. It was the grungy fella who lives in the apartment below mine- his teeth bearing tell-tale nicotine stains. I rubbed my eyes, no not in disbelief, but because that’s what people do when they wake up (Geez!) and because my pupils were dilating. The blasted fellow had the gall to smoke at 6. am. 6 a.m., no less. I sleep with my windows open (I’m a fresh air fiend, so sue me) having become wise to carbon-di-oxide (or was it carbon monoxide from burning lamps? Why take a chance, anyway? Di- , mono- , are the same to me) poisoning very early in life. So the smoke had found its way out of Grungy’s windows, up one floor, in through my windows and into my unsuspecting nostrils. Dear God, can’t a girl get her eight hours of shut-eye without needing a gas-mask?
While still on smoking, what gives? Discerning, intelligent, educated adults fall prey to a cigarette’s smoky, seductive charms. You would think that the frightening consequences of smoking cigarettes (cancer, emphysema, hypertension, to name a few) would sufficiently deter would-be smokers and impel present smokers to quit. But we vertical walkers, the most rational beings on this planet need to be warned by messages- “Statutory warning- Cigarette smoking is injurious to health.” An amoeba has better survival instincts. Those mute, lower life forms know which animal of prey or plant to stay away from. I’m rather attached to my healthy lungs, so do feel free to enlighten me if I don’t understand why cigarettes are cool. It’s like being the only one not in on an inside joke. What am I missing here? Why do people think it’s alright to smoke in public places when passive smoking kills more people than actual smoking does? What right do they have to treat someone else’s life so cheaply?
Why pay the big tobacco companies your hard-earned money to slowly poison yourself to death? Here, I’ll do it for free.
