Another face in the opaque crowd searching for some translucence to diffuse and project his myriad thoughts through this utterly abhorrent state of lame rigidity.

Saturday, August 28, 2010


A sequel to Ashes.

“A pack of Marlboro regulars, please!”

Sean lit a fag and smoked it listlessly. He loved it. The cigarette smoke was strong but his throat, his lungs were stronger. With dwindling footsteps and a rugged poise, head burdened with joyous premonitions, he moved towards the subway.He needed to board the train, he had to meet Penny. A swift flick of the fingers and the brown cigarette bud disembarked his hands, right into the trash bin, and cuddled amongst a half-eaten cheese sandwich, a rotten apple, and a fresh bouquet of roses. Sean fished into his pocket to retrieve a mint gum; to retrieve himself from his foul breath. He couldn’t kiss Penny, like that. He needed his mouth to be fresh; his lips moist and awaiting his love’s lips. He was in love. They have been together for more than two years now and the spark was still there.

Six months later –

Andy : “Sean, would you like to have a smoke?”
“SEAN, hey; HELLO… Would you like to have a smoke?”
Sean : “Umm…”
Andy “WHAT?”
Sean : “No thanks!”
Andy : “What the hell is wrong with you? Yes, Penny left you for the better. Now, shrug it off and get going. Don’t be this dead man, this zombie. C’mon, don’t be Frankenstein.”
Sean : “Yes, okay! I won’t smoke; not for some time at least. And by the way, Victor Frankenstein is the name of the scientist who created the monster and not the monster itself. ‘Don’t be Frankenstein?’ I’d love to be him.”
Andy : “Don’t smoke, if that makes you happy. Frankenstein or his monster; you got my point, and that’s all.”

Another six months later –

White cigarette buds were strewn on the white marble floor, gray ashes made the immaculate harmony dull, and a few pages with staff notes written on them made unflagging efforts to obliterate the monotony with their silent melodies; a drawing sheet and a few colour pencils, an almost damaged cellphone, a diary and a pen. Amidst this chaos, lay Sean, unscathed, oblivious to the filth, the cosmos.
He is in a dire need to decipher his creative and intellectual traits; that is if he does have any. He needs something to drive him, something which can make him live, make him believe in himself.
Sean, searched for a cigarette. His pack was empty. With herculean effort he got himself up, put on his jacket and walked down to the nearby store.
“A pack of Marlboro lights, please!”
Sean needed to smoke. His throat and lungs were still strong, they could bear the smoke of Marlboro regulars, but he smoked lights now.
Penny is a person of the past now.
Sean likes Tina. He isn’t in love with her, yet; and he doesn’t hope that he will be in love with her anytime soon. Sometimes he finds this feeling, his ‘like’ for Tina, repulsive.
Sean lit a fag and smoked it listlessly. He loved it.
He coughed.
He never coughed while smoking Marlboro regulars and then Marlboro lights made him cough; Sean wondered and smirked.
Sean took a long puff of his fag.
He puked.
Marlboro regulars and ‘love’ were delightful.
Marlboro lights and ‘like’ are repugnant.

Sometimes the harsh doesn't hurt, but the soft stings!

Sequel - Lives


  1. Lol you and this love for marlboro.. :P

    Nice post.. :)

  2. And yes, I agree to the fact that sometimes soft stings where harsh doesn't even hurt.. :)

  3. Ah love and like are never the same, true... but then there is a song

    "Mein fikr ko dhuen mein udata chala gaya,
    barbaadiyon ka jasn manaata chala gaya"

    P.S. Smoking is injurious to health and sometimes repulsive to people around.

    Nice post Sayak

    Blasphemous Aesthete

  4. Hey, thanks witchie.

    Samridhi. :( Didn't think about that.

    Anshul, yes, right; love and like are not the same, but they do have a connection however remote it might be. And nice quote from the song. :)

  5. Marlboro lights...incidence..
    Good observation...Sometimes the harsh doesn't hurt, but the soft stings!
    i love your usage of u used stings and not ...but the soft does..
    Your words are perfect for your piece...
    very well written..
    This one seems be continued..would wait for more of Sean..

  6. Yes Rain, there's a lot more of Sean to come. :)

  7. Okay. Honestly, I didn't like this. Content-wise, no comments. I see the names, the initials, and only get confirmed. Quality-wise, you've used almost not tough words, so okay.
    Sean doesn't make sense, here.
    The soft-stings-harsh-doesn't-hurt-bit was appreciated by everyone; so I've gotta contradict and say "Nothing is absolute."

  8. Tui "sometimes" use korechhish. So, previous argument doesn't hold. Aaro baaje criticism eta:
    Oi last ey ekta bhalo line diye you tried to make up for the lack of subject in the rest of the post.

  9. Mukherjee, the content was too obvious for you to like it. :P But, anyway, even knowing everything beforehand, you missed the underlying meaning.

  10. Why is it that addiction is the next interest after rejection?

  11. *sigh* such is love. It leaves you hurt and damaged beyond repair at times.
    Very nicely-written! :)

  12. Love is always an impending disaster except for the lucky few. When it strikes, we're left broken forever. All we can do thereafter is 'like' hate ourselves for not being capable of feeling a little emotion.
    Beautifully written, buddy. The metaphor is awesome.

  13. I have tagged you here. So please do oblige! :D

  14. Hello Sayak,

    Meandered in through Sourav Pandey's page and so glad I did!

    Your 'style' of writing and the story presentation are both commendable. It took me about 30 seconds roughly to hit the 'follow' button after reading the introductory paragraph of the story! That is the impact of good writing.

    It is a record of sorts for I've not 'followed' many bloggers at the first visit to their pages unless they're mighty good,which goes on to convey that I'm pretty impressed by your writing :) :)

    Shall definitely frequent this page. Cheers!

  15. Agnimita, addiction was present long before rejection. Moreover he wasn't rejected, he was dejected.
    And yes, the addiction thing was metaphorical. :)

    Samadrita, sadly yes, such is love. ;(

    Abhishek, I concur with what you've said. And thanks mate.

    Raksha, I must say your appreciation was extravagantly magnetic and delightful; thank you. :)

  16. "Love and Like are like Brother and sister, always together." :)

    Well its very strange to me that people enjoy their way to destruction... And most of the times even end up repenting for it. Smoking is injurious to health not only for the smoker but for the people around too...
    Nice post! Keep going :)


  17. use this... there wont be any fumes anymore... :-)

  18. Tanvi, the cigarette thing was metaphorical, I wasn't endorsing smoking. :)

    brandMARIO, yes indeed.. :P

  19. dude first time here thru a common fren n I m glad , i m happy to be here . Awsm write up, liked it very much . i too have a few post on metaphorical use of smoking :). Really liked the throw of words . cheers!!
    u may like to visit my blog

  20. Thank you Saket. I'll surely visit your blog. :)

  21. oh and you have been tagged :)


  22. I am bk in the circuit and wat do I get to see! You are getting better boy!

  23. Last line summed it all up I guess!
    And did u know that Marlboro originally was meant for women? before the entire cowboy thing happened!

  24. Oh, I didn't know that S. Thank you for sharing it. :)


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