All your visions, up in smoke
All your illusions, up in smoke
All your ambitions, up in smoke
All your actions, up in smoke
All your dreams, up in smoke
All your thoughts, up in smoke
All your time, up in smoke
All your people, up in smoke
All your life, up in smoke
But do heed!
All your love, IN the smoke
This is the first post after some time. But instead of talking about the Himalayas, I shall talk of the one day I spent in KGP. This won't be an annal of facts and statistics of how many times I smoked up. This is about returning home.
KGP, the place which the residents love to hate. People complain, people suffer, people die. That's what living has been reduced to. Okay, enough dystopian ramblings. I enjoy it over here. It's perfect for my existence. That's why when the train pulled into the station, I felt a feeling one only feels on returning home after a long time. That indecipherable feeling, as if a volcano of emotions has erupted. Associated memories race through your mind, each one too ephemeral to observe. And I leave my weariness and exit. KGP is lush green after recent rains. There are also sniffer dogs on the platform. I stretch out my arms and KGP embraces me. Then I head out to score.
DFE (short for Daaru, Fags and Everything else) is empty. HHFH is a welcome relief after two months of abstinence. But I am a man on a mission. I have a higher purpose and that is to relive some old days with an old friend. I wait.
Well, as they said-
I get by with a little help from my friends.
I get high with a little help from my friends.
I am gonna try with a little help from my friends.
