Contortions of a smoke ring!
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PLACE: Somewhere in the 24 x 7 cafeteria of Telesource.
TIME: 0100 HRS
At a nondescript corner of the cafeteria, their sat a girl in her late 20s. She demanded a lot of attention from the onlookers in her flimsy noodle strap and high heels, complete with a strategically placed gothic tattoo and nose piercing. Meet Maxi. She was a girl with a lot of nonchalance.
Maxi was on her scheduled 1 hr break from the job of a call centre agent at Telesource. Lately, she had been feeling the heat, with frequent pink slips for her colleagues and extra long working hours.
“I need a smoke.” She murmered.
She took out her favourite Marlboro Lights from her handbag, and her hands were now searching for the zippo she bought herself on her last birthday. ” I cannot find it. Must have left it at home.” She thought.
“Need a light Maxi sweetheart !” Enter Raj. As he proceeded to light the cigarette between those luscious lips, he could not help but adore the girl of his dreams.
Raj was a colleague, an aquaintance and may be more than that. She had never been quite able to understand him. He dressed in an extravagant manner and had a great presence. Even now it did not escape her attention that he was probably trying to hit on her, and appeared overtly charming with a hint of smile between his lips.
“You have become very easy to predict. You give away too much Raj.” As she spoke, the smoke coming out of her lips assumed many shapes before dissolving into the thin air.
“I guess so. Don’t you have work on your head tonight? Traffic is too high for the new telemax product that I am handling. I tell you, life sucks. I need a smoke too.” He opened up his new B&H packet, and lit a cigarrete. As he puffed on it, a ring of smoke emanated from his lips, meeting the smoke from Maxi’s lips, contorting itself to many different shapes before becoming one.
“Well, you definitely have a better life than mine.” As she started cribbing about the problems she had, Raj could not help but notice the way she held her light. It was precariously positioned between her long and slender fingers, placed ever so lightly. Everytime she puffed on the smoke, she did not stop talking. As a result , the smoke coming out of her formed the very words she spoke. He could not stop himself from tracing the way the smoke danced about the arm’s distance between them.
“Are you even listening to what I am saying?” She frowned, taking note of the way his eyes kept tracking the imaginary shapes from her mouth in the form of the white smoke against the backdrop of the black night.
“You are beautiful.” Was his reply.
The break was nearing its end, as was the cigarette. They would have to go back to their desks in some time.
“I need to get back to work! And next time come up with something interesting, something I don’t know already !”
And their in the ashtray, lay the two sticks, the last draw of smoke emanating from them, living the last breath that assumed those dying shapes, only to be one with each other for the last time !
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