Dastaan - E - Sutta

An original write up by Samyak Shah 

Edited by: Pratham Raina

Dear Reader,

While I am known for my writing, you don’t know me for my headlines. And there’s a reason behind it. Besides, who am I to choose for you? I mean, Aaj kal toh phone se leke uski ringtone tak mein bhi kitne choices hai, and so title mei kyu nahi bhai? (or behen. I don’t discriminate)

So choose on:

Barely Smoking

You, light me up!

I'll blow for you

Minute to smoke it

Smoke and Tell

Smoke me, you’re done

While I am no Confucius or Anonymous myself, so just like you, I also get inspired by quotes around. Here are some of my personal favourites:

“YOU DON’T KNOW ME, BUT YOU’RE ABOUT TO” – Deckard Shaw, FF7

“I AM NOT IN DANGER, I AM THE DANGER” – Walter Hartwell White, S4 E6

Just like Youmans, I too have more than one face.

The External. It is successful. Everyone sees and envies. The Smoke. Emraan Hashmi glorified it when he said, “dhue ki tarah upar uth jao,” however I would be quoting an incomplete dialogue as he did continue with “ya toh raakh banke niche,” and that brings us to my next face.

The Mental. Ash is that kid rockstar who before you know it, because of his one hit wonder, blows up to the top of the charts and is on the face of every magazine titled as the next big thing, before he eventually turns to yesterday’s news and is forgotten. Deceiving isn’t it? Yet necessary.

Before I talk about the other two, I want to add a little something. Because you’re obviously not going to want to listen to it afterwards. Besides, this is going a little dark so let’s light it up shall we?

Yes I have a short life. Yes I get breathed till all that can be squeezed out of me, is squeezed. People from both the sexes do this. No integrity left in anybody, I tell you! Yes I get used. Yes I get thrown on the ground afterwards. Yes, moments before I die, I get stamped on. But... (there’s always a cute butt now isn’t there?)

But that doesn’t mean that I’m not happy. Sometimes I get to see so many new places, notice so many new faces, and make some new friends. I am a total party pleaser, and because of that, you can also find me in a pack. And almost all the people who purchase me are of great stature and give me an opportunity to make them smile and relieve their anxiety. Although for a really short time, but I feel valued nonetheless.

Now that is the good thing about the people who use my services. Nobody likes to smoke alone and who doesn’t like company. The best part about my life is that I get to meet amazing lives, who light me up. Our meetings are very short, but no matter how long it lasts, I feel good to have met them. I am ignited by a lot of variety of lighters, varying from smoker to smoker, but every lighter I’ve met, has lit up with appreciation. (Quite literally!)

... and speaking of pros, sometimes if I am lucky enough to be with rich people, I get to meet celebrity lighters like Zippo, Dunhill, and other super stylish and modern beings that do the same thing, but do it in a way that I don’t even realise that they’ve done their job.

But it’s not always that I do get lit up by lighters, because life gives you lemons as well and at those times, I have to make do with match sticks. I’m not saying that they aren’t good, but they seem like old dudes who take so many human attempts to light a fire and not to mention the pain and annoyance they cause to my clients. You see I like to have them unharmed. Besides, if they really wanted a pin like burn, they could’ve just kissed me with their skin you know. These matchsticks are creepy beings. They aren’t willing to showcase their love for me in the open, they always need their privacy, AND somehow, they don’t seem to be too comfortable with the wind! (even though they’re quite easy going, if you know what I mean)

Confused? Shaken to your core? Two buts? Well there’s the conjunction “but” and then there’s mine.

The Physical. Butt. When all the stories end. And because of me, so does yours someday. I mean what goes around comes around, right?

You see, because I don’t care if you just use me for a few moments of happiness and then leave me, because by the time I die, I have already done my job. And unlike you guys, I don’t discriminate. If you made me feel fucked up, I won’t hold anything on me. I’ll just snap back at you and in such a way that not just you, but all of your loved ones AND your community weeps. 

Don’t underestimate me because mai nahi janti hoongi tera baap kaun hai, lekin tu nahi jaanta mera khaandan kaun hai. I have a network of many cancerous particles, and they're present everywhere. You’re so screwed anyways because we’re with you even in the air you breathe. So you can ban all the tobacco and nicotine you want (although that is not going to happen), you can’t stop pollution, and my good friend nitrogen who is possibly the most killer dude in my community, knows every harmful chemical in the air.

And I have to thank none other than you for all of this.

Initially I did not even have nuts for brains up there, I mean after all, I wasn’t made to function, right?

Just be of temporary service, and everything that you brought along be it your worries, fear, insecurity, they all went. But for some reason your testosterone anguished teenage rage that it all started with, stays and that’s all what I am now. 

I did not choose to exist, yet you created me. And in what short life I have, you seem to burn all of it too. And if we go down, then we go down together. By the time I’m dead, I’ve cremated you too. Just like me, you’re going to burn sooner and sadder rather than later and luscious.

And as I die, I bring it back full circle to where I started from.

Not from the moment you felt stressed, or the moment my services were made available, no. But from the moment you saw the warning and chose to ignore it nonetheless. So remember.

I may be short lived, but I am to be feared

SMOKING KILLS. Not just you, but everything and everyone around you as well.

SMOKING KILLS. Not that fast, but slowly starting from something inside you, to everything inside you.

Writer banna hai?

How many of us here want to become writers? Many of us, right? Writing is not as difficult as the people make it look. It is actually a simple process of putting words together and making a sensible story which can be provided to the fellow humans for reading.

Now, what I want to talk about in this piece is about the stereotyping that goes around the writer’s domain.

Quite specifically, I want to focus on the passion part behind writing.

Here’s the real problem: I belong in a country where, if there is a pattern noticed, that thing or person or concept will be stereotyped left, right and center. One such concept is becoming a writer.   

It feels as if this thing is the dot com of the day, because every other person is trying it. There is nothing wrong in doing that because such attempts have yielded great performers and platforms to showcase our abilities and get the world to know about us.

What my problem is how we have started stereotyping every art related person and every sad or oppressed person to be a writer; quite specifically: The ENGINEERS.

Just like writing, engineering has been the dot com for quite a long time now, and we have been mass producing engineers in an already over populated country, which has lack of proper job opportunities.

Over the time, what has happened is that people have started stereotyping engineers as well. Given how seriously the parents want their child to become an engineer, it is reflected in the student suicide rate in a year. Death is not the option chosen by many of the engineering aspirants because they know that they can come out of the problem if they just make an attempt to make their point come across.

This has given way to another popular stereotype: ENGINEER turned WRITER.

Why?

I know that writing is the best non-violent way of making your feelings and thoughts come across many people, but that doesn’t mean that we clog that stream as well. What I’ve seen over the years is a trend of engineers becoming writers. No issue with that because writing gives you a freedom that science can’t. What the main issue here is how we’ve started stereotyping and behaving that way. As soon as someone says that they’re doing engineering, we just automatically assume that it has been forced on them but their parents and they’re soon going to choose to do stand-up comedy, write or anything in the creative field.

Why?

Both of my cousin brothers are engineers and never once they make it seem that they wanted to do something else. They were genuinely happy with doing engineering.

When I tell this to people, they counter it by quoting examples of famous engineer turned artists, especially the Indian authors like Chetan Bhagat, Durjoy Dutta etc.

If you also belong to the category who’d oppose my views using these names, let me tell you: Chetan Bhagat didn’t directly become a popular writer, he did engineering, he did MBA, he worked in a bank for a long time and gathered enough money in his bank account and then he decided to explore the field of writing. He hasn’t succeeded in his first attempt itself. I’m not demotivating anyone from following their passion, I’m just showing you the mirror, that if you want to be successful, you should be willing to put in the time and effort because success takes time.

I’m not saying that you can’t become a successful writer like them, but you first need to do the stuff that these guys did.

Now, coming to the crux of the whole write-up: Not all engineers are sad, depressed and want to kill themselves. Some genuinely want to do something good for the world with their quality and level of education and YES, not all engineers have to strive out to become writers, and nor do you need to follow such silly stereotypes.  

Writer banna hai, toh bano. Kisi ne mana nahi kiya, lekin yahan pe bahot mehnat lagegi upar aane mein, toh agar iss ke liye taiyaar ho, toh badhaao aage apna kadam.

(If you want to be a writer, then become one. No one has stopped you, but here you need a lot of hard work to rise up, so if you’re ready to do that, then put your best foot forward).