I do not remember the exact date I first picked up a cigarette, but I would clearly remember the day I smoked my last. It actually sums up my association with this maniacal stupidity I indulged in for more than 5 years.
I started smoking in the second year of my engineering school. The usual suspects; peer, a sense of style, inception into adulthood, freedom and many other false concoction which a juvenile mind can cook up; can be attributed to me succumbing to the addiction. I would not dwell much on them here. It started as a stylistic king size cigarette at the end of class every evening and soon was a full blown physical need and I was down to the deadly filter-less ones which have been romanticized by may a Bengali song from a generation gone by. I never needed a reason to smoke - It was a companion in grief, a friend during joy, fuel during excitement, balm during anxiousness and even a remedy for constipation. Such is the nature of Nicotine, a drug more addictive than heroin. My clothes, my hands, my breath, my hair always reeked of the nauseating smell of cigarettes. Unfortunately at that time I never even realized or cared.
But it is not as if I was not ever a repentant smoker. There was never a smoker who did not utter confidently that he could quit whenever he wished. It might seem amazing to a non smoker but this false bravado itself stems from Nicotine!!! This psychoactive drug actually mocks the mind into believing what it wants. This is when the repentance and the helplessness kick in. Repentance from know what a big mistake you have done and helplessness out of the repeated defeats against the drug. I tried quitting on numerous occasions trying different things and with varying amounts of success. I still vividly remember desperately writing again and again “I would not smoke” in my notebook to fight massive urges. Once I even went as far as burning down all my cigarette packs, matches and lighters only to start the next morning. Each time this happened the next cigarette was accompanied by guilt and penitence out of yet another crushing defeat at the hands of Nicotine. And guess what the answer was – yes simply more dosage of the drug.
I was emotionally dependent on cigarettes. I could not live without them. They were my best friends.
Anyways till this point it might be very much an oft repeated story or even a personal experience, based on how fortunate or unfortunate you have been in your decisions. But let me chronicle how and why I quit. Till the point I quit was on a clock work regime of smoking. I woke up in the morning and the first thing I needed was a cigarette I had it before brushing my teeth. I needed it in the restroom. I lighted up again as I started my car and drove to work. One hour at work and it was time to round up the ‘friends’ and go out for a smoke. The level of desperation/addiction was such that I had to go even when it was subzero outside. Soon lunch hour came and as customary the dessert was the cancer stick. After the mandatory mid afternoon smoke it was time to go home again lighting up in all glory as I drove back. Needed another one as soon as I reached home and yet another pre dinner and one finally before going to bed.
However to my credit deep down always remained a guilty smoker. I felt sad I was hooked, I felt fearful I would never be able to quit. Thus although Nicotine had its vice grip over my body I did not allow it the satisfaction of having a complete grip over my mind. I kept on making abortive attempts to quit. Some lasted mere hours some a few days. I fought mentally with each urge; I fought my battle with each individual cigarette. Tried to kick the 10 AM one and a new 1-30 PM got added to my regime. When I curbed that I felt a massive desire to have two post-lunch. The excuses were never in shortage. Irrespective of my numerous defeats I became mentally stronger and was revved up to the point where one little tug and I would be out of the ditch. That tug came when I went visiting my aunt for a week. A lady whom I realized I barely knew after 25 years of association, a personality so strong willed that I lament that I had not got to know earlier.(maybe I would devote an entry completely to her one day).
Both my uncle and aunt are staunch anti smokers, yet they would never have protested or barred me from smoking if I wanted to. Thus the need to find the excuse of rebellion to smoke simply was not available. I never owned up though that I was a chronic smoker. In the course of one post dinner talk my aunt remarked that it is such a fallacy that people who are lettered (I do not use the education word lightly) can think of picking up the cigarette. That was it. I know it might sound like too simplistic and naïve, but that was the very beauty of the argument – So simple yet so very true. You could not argue against it. (Of course you can argue against any and everything but that is not the point I would address here). That was the proverbial tug I needed to jump over the fence. For long I had cooked improbable excuses to keep on smoking but for the first time I found a pretext so overpowering that any protestation to the contrary was futile.
Aha…not so quick this tale too has a twist in its tail. After spending a week with them I landed back in my city. The once more rediscovered sense of freedom kicked in and I almost immediately succumbed. But I did not give in and held on till the afternoon, till evening, till night. At this point it overpowered me. I borrowed a cigarette pack from my roommate and went out to smoke. It was a crisp summer night and the air retained a tinge of coolness induced by late evening showers and the hint of wind felt so relaxing. I am not sure if it was mind sending these feelers as a final deterrent or if it really was my one week smoke free lungs experiencing the purity of the night wind after a long time. Nonetheless deterred I was not, light up I did and for the first time in my life or rather the first time in my five years of smoking life I felt disgusted. I did not feel the usual ‘kick’, did not feel the Nicotine induced relaxation, did not feel the cigarette propelled flights of fancy. I felt nothing but a gut wrenching disgust. Not remorse, not penitence, not angst not guilt.
I started smoking in the second year of my engineering school. The usual suspects; peer, a sense of style, inception into adulthood, freedom and many other false concoction which a juvenile mind can cook up; can be attributed to me succumbing to the addiction. I would not dwell much on them here. It started as a stylistic king size cigarette at the end of class every evening and soon was a full blown physical need and I was down to the deadly filter-less ones which have been romanticized by may a Bengali song from a generation gone by. I never needed a reason to smoke - It was a companion in grief, a friend during joy, fuel during excitement, balm during anxiousness and even a remedy for constipation. Such is the nature of Nicotine, a drug more addictive than heroin. My clothes, my hands, my breath, my hair always reeked of the nauseating smell of cigarettes. Unfortunately at that time I never even realized or cared.
But it is not as if I was not ever a repentant smoker. There was never a smoker who did not utter confidently that he could quit whenever he wished. It might seem amazing to a non smoker but this false bravado itself stems from Nicotine!!! This psychoactive drug actually mocks the mind into believing what it wants. This is when the repentance and the helplessness kick in. Repentance from know what a big mistake you have done and helplessness out of the repeated defeats against the drug. I tried quitting on numerous occasions trying different things and with varying amounts of success. I still vividly remember desperately writing again and again “I would not smoke” in my notebook to fight massive urges. Once I even went as far as burning down all my cigarette packs, matches and lighters only to start the next morning. Each time this happened the next cigarette was accompanied by guilt and penitence out of yet another crushing defeat at the hands of Nicotine. And guess what the answer was – yes simply more dosage of the drug.
I was emotionally dependent on cigarettes. I could not live without them. They were my best friends.
Anyways till this point it might be very much an oft repeated story or even a personal experience, based on how fortunate or unfortunate you have been in your decisions. But let me chronicle how and why I quit. Till the point I quit was on a clock work regime of smoking. I woke up in the morning and the first thing I needed was a cigarette I had it before brushing my teeth. I needed it in the restroom. I lighted up again as I started my car and drove to work. One hour at work and it was time to round up the ‘friends’ and go out for a smoke. The level of desperation/addiction was such that I had to go even when it was subzero outside. Soon lunch hour came and as customary the dessert was the cancer stick. After the mandatory mid afternoon smoke it was time to go home again lighting up in all glory as I drove back. Needed another one as soon as I reached home and yet another pre dinner and one finally before going to bed.
However to my credit deep down always remained a guilty smoker. I felt sad I was hooked, I felt fearful I would never be able to quit. Thus although Nicotine had its vice grip over my body I did not allow it the satisfaction of having a complete grip over my mind. I kept on making abortive attempts to quit. Some lasted mere hours some a few days. I fought mentally with each urge; I fought my battle with each individual cigarette. Tried to kick the 10 AM one and a new 1-30 PM got added to my regime. When I curbed that I felt a massive desire to have two post-lunch. The excuses were never in shortage. Irrespective of my numerous defeats I became mentally stronger and was revved up to the point where one little tug and I would be out of the ditch. That tug came when I went visiting my aunt for a week. A lady whom I realized I barely knew after 25 years of association, a personality so strong willed that I lament that I had not got to know earlier.(maybe I would devote an entry completely to her one day).
Both my uncle and aunt are staunch anti smokers, yet they would never have protested or barred me from smoking if I wanted to. Thus the need to find the excuse of rebellion to smoke simply was not available. I never owned up though that I was a chronic smoker. In the course of one post dinner talk my aunt remarked that it is such a fallacy that people who are lettered (I do not use the education word lightly) can think of picking up the cigarette. That was it. I know it might sound like too simplistic and naïve, but that was the very beauty of the argument – So simple yet so very true. You could not argue against it. (Of course you can argue against any and everything but that is not the point I would address here). That was the proverbial tug I needed to jump over the fence. For long I had cooked improbable excuses to keep on smoking but for the first time I found a pretext so overpowering that any protestation to the contrary was futile.
Aha…not so quick this tale too has a twist in its tail. After spending a week with them I landed back in my city. The once more rediscovered sense of freedom kicked in and I almost immediately succumbed. But I did not give in and held on till the afternoon, till evening, till night. At this point it overpowered me. I borrowed a cigarette pack from my roommate and went out to smoke. It was a crisp summer night and the air retained a tinge of coolness induced by late evening showers and the hint of wind felt so relaxing. I am not sure if it was mind sending these feelers as a final deterrent or if it really was my one week smoke free lungs experiencing the purity of the night wind after a long time. Nonetheless deterred I was not, light up I did and for the first time in my life or rather the first time in my five years of smoking life I felt disgusted. I did not feel the usual ‘kick’, did not feel the Nicotine induced relaxation, did not feel the cigarette propelled flights of fancy. I felt nothing but a gut wrenching disgust. Not remorse, not penitence, not angst not guilt.
Disgust.
I took deeper puffs just to be sure. Nicotine was hard at work to convince me otherwise. I burnt out the first cigarette in minutes. Lighted up the second.
Disgust.
I could smoke only till half when I threw it away. 24Th July 2007. I would remember this date throughout my life.
I took deeper puffs just to be sure. Nicotine was hard at work to convince me otherwise. I burnt out the first cigarette in minutes. Lighted up the second.
Disgust.
I could smoke only till half when I threw it away. 24Th July 2007. I would remember this date throughout my life.
I have remained smoke free ever since. The pangs were huge, the urges massive. Suffered near depression and even fought through days of constipation. Such was my fragile state that I counted the number of smoke free day spent, wearing each like a medal (I gave up counting after reaching around 200 I guess). It was a brutal fight which my body fought. But Nicotine lost to because although it did torture my body, the mind had long ago won the battle.
I had won the war....
I had won the war....
