cigarette butt

have you ever observed a cigarette butt  being tossed from a lofty height? have you ever looked at it aimlessly when it floated towards the earth? with no sense of purpose, no direction, no effort to choose any guided path, it keeps flying – not to reach high… but to touch the ground. have you ever felt that may be… just may be the half smoked cigarette tried, but life’s circumstances served on a platter by fate squandered all possibilities?

i had spent endless moments simply gazing at those floating cigarette butts…it made me feel as if it was destined to see itself waste…how similar to my life…i sometimes feel like a scavenger, whose daily run of life is so like that cigarette butt. Yet i often forget the shame… i give in every time although i know the direction will only lead me to nowhere… i never try to change the rule of the game knowing that life has already ‘set’ me as the butt of its malicious joke… and the best part is that when i start moving, at the end of every road, i stand beaten… numb of all senses… don’t know whether to cry or smile…a consoling voice from deep within says, “well, at least you survived”!

but did i?

 

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3 thoughts on “cigarette butt

  1. Sometimes the direction doesn’t matter. Sometimes up is down, and down is up. As the butt rushes to the ground, it sees more than it could have ever experienced from the safe haven that was the box, or even it’s birthplace, the tobacco farm. As it reaches the ground, it meets a million other butts, so that it may share it’s story, as they may theirs.
    Even if the story is not as great as it could have been, for those few moments before it crashed and after it burned, it flew. No one can take that away from it. Ever!

  2. While obviously heavily metaphorical I’d like to ask a question – why would you think that the cigarette butt drops to the ground aimlessly ? Pedantically speaking the entire trajectory of the object from the height to the ground can probably be modeled including every variable that can influence the ultimate path taken by it. Do you allude to the fact that the object itself cannot exercise any control over the path which thus can be concluded as an aimless spiral ? A fairly whimsical conversation, lost long time ago among the stale smoke of cigarettes and last cups of tea came back to me – life isn’t a model where both the direction and the momentum can be specifically predicted by anyone (yeah ! a fairly crappy remix of poor old Heisenberg ! but the speaker, being a bit inebriated, was in fact more influenced by his current lack of focus as told to him by his immediate family) and all those who do claim to have mastered the secret of doing so are just being smugly insane.

    We make our choices. Making a choice is infinitely more easier than attempting to live through the choice with honor dignity and self-esteem intact. Sic parvis magna !

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