It was not easy to learn, and many cigarettes were sacrificed while struggling to master this noble pursuit. It required patience, persistence and an ability to pucker one’s mouth in a specific perfect pout. While exhaling, that is.
My older brother and my spouse were my co-smokers, and we would sit in one solemn group, and try to outdo each other in blowing smoke-rings of questionable geometry.
I was also assigned an additional lookout duty for the sudden appearance of our Mum. In our culture, smoking in front of elders is an unthinkable act, and essentially it is impolite to even acknowledge the fact that one is a smoker.
So, whenever our mother entered the room and sniffed the air suspiciously for nicotine odours, we leapt into coordinated denial. We lied. However, when cornered, we pointed reproachful fingers at each other, while the air around us accusingly carried the truth.
Mom was far too sharp to be thus misled. ‘Smoking thrills but kills’, she would scold, underlining the road warning signs for speeding. ‘That caveat is for reckless drivers’, I attempted to correct her. ‘And foolish smokers too’, she asserted, ending both the argument and our credibility.
In those days, some 40 years ago, smokers were not treated as social pariahs. One generally avoided smoking in front of small children but that was about it. There were no designated smoking areas at the airports, malls or hotels. Public places were a free-for-all and, actually, even mid-flight people could light up as and when they felt like. No smoke alarm would go off and there was no question of even being asked to pay a penalty for smoking.
In some parts of the world, like the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, the old ways lingered, and one could still smoke pretty much wherever one felt inclined to do so.
None of the restaurants shooed the smokers away. On the contrary, ashtrays were very thoughtfully provided along with the dinner-plates, in case someone wanted to smoke during a meal. People were very tolerant towards smokers, and no one experienced the need to ostracize them.
I was on a flight from London to Amman once and was seated next to a charming gentleman who came armed with an astonishingly large bag of snacks. I could not understand why he was carrying so much junk food till he sheepishly confessed that he was a chain smoker and being locked up in a plane for five hours without being allowed to smoke was his worst nightmare. He ate popcorn, chocolates, crisps, jellybeans and so on, continuously, and also kept sharing all that food with me.
“Did you ever blow smoke rings”, he asked me suddenly.
“When you smoked”, he prompted.
“Perfect concentric circles”, I boasted.
“You obviously loved it”, he chuckled.
I nodded.
“So why did you give it up?” he asked.
I paused, hearing my mother’s voice as clearly as ever.
“Smoking thrills but kills”, I said.
“Speeding does that”, he corrected.
“And foolish smoking too”, I smiled.
Read Nickunj Malik’s last month’s article: Singapore Sling and peanut bling
