Modern Slaves

Cigarettes

As I stood there on the terrace, lost in the haze of smoke and introspection, I couldn't help but feel like a prisoner in my own life. Trapped between the past and the present, I longed for an escape, a reprieve from the relentless cycle of guilt and regret that threatened to consume me. But even as I yearned for freedom, I knew that it would remain forever out of reach, a distant dream that taunted me from the shadows. And so, with a heavy heart and a weary soul, I resigned myself to the harsh reality of my existence, alone in the darkness with nothing but my own thoughts for company.

The rain cascaded down in a relentless downpour, each droplet adding to the cacophony of sound that enveloped the bus stand. Seeking refuge from the deluge, I took shelter beneath the awning, my eyes drawn to the spectacle unfolding before me.

There she stood, a vision of ethereal beauty amidst the chaos of the storm. Her eyes, a warm shade of brown, held a hint of mischief as she surveyed her surroundings, seemingly unfazed by the relentless assault of raindrops. Her long hair, soaked through by the rain, cascaded in rivulets down her back, framing her delicate features in a halo of damp tendrils.

But it was her figure that truly captivated me, every curve and contour accentuated by the cling of her damp clothing. As she attempted to wring out her shawl, the fabric stretched taut against her body, revealing the subtle curves of her ample breasts beneath. With each movement, her form seemed to dance in harmony with the rhythm of the rain, a tantalizing display of sensuality that left me breathless with desire.

I found myself transfixed by her, unable to tear my gaze away from the mesmerizing spectacle before me. In that moment, I was consumed by a primal urge, a hunger that burned hot and fierce within the depths of my soul. I longed to drown in the intensity of her presence, to lose myself in the raw passion that pulsed between us.

But as I glanced around me, I was met with the sight of others who shared my admiration, their eyes alight with the same primal desire that coursed through my veins. Anger simmered beneath the surface, a jealous rage that threatened to consume me as I watched them covet what should have been mine alone.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to banish them from my sight, to revel in the forbidden pleasure of her company without the intrusion of prying eyes. I yearned to claim her as my own, to possess her in a way that transcended the boundaries of reason and restraint. As her eyes met mine, a smile graced her lips, and in that moment, I felt an undeniable surge of desire course through me. I was so aroused that I could have driven nails with my erection. Drawing closer, she gestured towards the handkerchief peeking out of my pocket, asking if she could borrow it to dry herself off. I glanced around and noticed the envy burning in the eyes of the onlookers, but I ignored them, focused only on her.

Returning her smile, I handed her the handkerchief, and with a playful chuckle, she inquired whether I had used it for sneezing or any other purpose. With a grin, I replied that it was brand new and had been waiting just for her. She regarded me with a curious glint in her eyes before accepting the handkerchief and proceeding to use it to dry her hair.

In that moment, I felt like the hero of a romantic movie, envisioning a duet scene straight out of a Tamil film. My mind raced with thoughts of dancing in the rain with her, lost in the melody of our shared moment. She extended her hand, offering me the handkerchief back, and as our palms met, she introduced herself as Meera.

"I'm Akhil," I replied, savoring the taste of her name on my tongue.

As she bid me farewell and boarded a departing bus, I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing in my chest. Yet, with the promise of seeing her again, I found solace in the anticipation of our next encounter. And so, as the rain subsided and life resumed its normal course, I made a silent vow to cherish each moment with her, knowing that she had ignited a spark within me that refused to be extinguished.

As I drifted in my own thoughts, Chechi's voice calling out to me seemed distant, like a faint echo in the recesses of my mind. It wasn't until she gently shook me back to reality that I snapped out of my reverie, startled by her touch.

"I can understand you, it's okay," Chechi's voice was soothing, her tone laced with empathy. "You don't have to be ashamed of that incident."

My body's involuntary reaction to Meera's memory left me feeling exposed, vulnerable even in Chechi's presence. "I'm not ashamed," I wanted to protest, but the words remained lodged in my throat, choked by a sense of self-doubt and insecurity.

"Why did he do it?" The question tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it, directed at Chechi but laden with my own inner turmoil and confusion.

Chechi's response was measured, her voice tinged with sadness as she recounted my brother's downward spiral. "I don't know," she began, her words heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. "But he was in a really dark place."

As she spoke, each revelation felt like a blow to the gut, a painful reminder of my brother's unraveling. The image of him, once strong and resilient, succumbing to addiction and despair, was almost too much to bear.

"He started drinking and stopped going to work," Chechi continued, her voice faltering slightly.

 "His clients came home, but he just shouted at them. They said it was the first time they saw him like that."

The reality of my brother's situation hit me like a ton of bricks, leaving me reeling with disbelief and sorrow. "He sold the gym," Chechi's voice broke as she uttered the words, her anguish palpable.

My mind raced with questions, each one more painful than the last. How had it come to this?

How had my brother, once a pillar of strength, become consumed by darkness?

In that moment, as Chechi shared the grim details of my brother's decline, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. It was as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath me, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty and despair. Guess Life even breaks the strongest. Returning to my room, I found myself drawn to my phone, my fingers instinctively scrolling through the contacts list. She was like cigarettes. At first, the burns were a discomfort, but soon I was addicted to it. Inhaling her toxic fumes, I felt a rush of ecstasy and pain. She filled my lungs with smoke, and my heart with ash... She was like cigarettes, and I couldn't quit.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the display lit up with an incoming call, bearing the name "MEERA."