My First Cigarette

A couple of years after my birth,
my dad bought the perfect house.
And so we shifted to our new home. 
A very tiny little place that we called our own.
The very next building was my maternal grandparents' house.
And the building after that was my school,
with the church was right opposite it, ain't that cool?

So this was the weekday story...
My mum would wake up very early.
Cook and pack everyone's tiffin boxes.
Then my granddaddy would come over.
And to him we'd be handed over. 
The amount of mischief I've done out there.
Matchless I tell you, just cannot compare.
My Papa had a lot of patience.
No matter what we did, not a hint of frustration.
I'd walk around with the curtains on my head.
Pretend it was my wedding veil, a lacy spread.
My grandma would keep yelling at me.
Blame me for pulling her curtains apparently.
Play with her spice powders, cleaners, candles and fire.
Climb up the ladders, in the loft hide and retire.

To be in school when I was too young,
my brother went missing in the mornings when only me and Papa hung.
Everyday he'd take me out. 
Some or the other excuse, without a doubt.
Sometimes it was a trip to the bank,
where it was fun to get the slips stamped.
I'd always bring back some slip books.
Pretend to be a millionaire with a checkbook.
Distribute it with insane zeros to my friends. 
As first prize for funny little games and events.
And sometimes, he'd take me to the market to buy,
fruits to make and maintain his jam supply.

He always asked me if I wanted to come.
I'd rather go with him than be quiet under granny's thumb.
Of course there was a big incentive.
At the end of it all, I was receptive.
He would specially cross the road.
Just waiting for that, my face always excitement showed.
There was this little shop.
Where we'd cross and stop.
I would point at any small piece of candy.
And he'd buy me that to make me happy.

One fine day when he asked me to choose,
I dared to point at something I thought he'd  refuse. 
Cigarette candy, he didn't even raise a brow.
He just bought it and handed it over to me somehow.
Way bigger than my daily treats,
this was an entire PACK of sweets.
It actually looked and tasted just like chalk.
But I'd sit at the window waiting for people, to shock.
That was my first cigarette.
Many years ago, but I won't forget.
I would always either finish or hide.
my candy in some corner of granny's fridge inside. 
Before my brother from school returned, 
untraceable and unheard of,  my candy would become.



    1. I wish that were true….but this was the first of four 🀐🀫🀐😢
      I look forward to that reunionπŸŽ€πŸ€©πŸ₯°πŸ€©πŸ₯°πŸ€©πŸ₯°πŸ€©πŸŽ€
      Jesus loves you too brotherMatt🐼🐼🐼🐼


  1. Story Tellers of
    Poetry in Free
    Verse Keeping
    Family Traditions
    Alive As The Smallest
    Loves Of Life
    Reach Deep
    In Comfort
    Of Childhood
    Memories i grew
    Up on A River Walked
    To First Grade on
    A Hill Transferred
    To Catholic
    Private School
    In Second Grade
    So Happy to
    Return to
    Life In
    Walking Distance
    Of 3rd Grade sweet
    Childhood Memories
    Soni such a Lovely
    South Indian
    Name Meaning
    Goldsmith of Poetry
    Too God Bless You

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Wow Katie….thank you for this piece.
      This is such a beautifully poem….πŸŽ€πŸ₯°πŸŽ€πŸ₯°πŸŽ€πŸ₯°

      Happy smiles to you.
      In all that you do.
      Keep on smiling too.
      Because God loves you.
      Just likes He loves me too.
      A warm hug from me to you.
      From India
      To Florida.


      Liked by 1 person

      1. SMiLes Dear Young
        Friend Soni.. Please
        Call me Fred hehe
        The Pretty one
        In the Gravatar
        Is my Wife Katrina
        Haha She Takes
        Photos for me on
        My Blog but
        She neither
        Cares For Public
        Dance.. 13,505 Miles
        Nor Does She
        Care Much For
        8.3 MiLLioN
        Words of Free
        Verse Poetry
        In The Same
        83 Months
        Of Golden
        Age Retirement…
        But She Loves to Cook
        Hehe… i am Honored to
        Receive Kind Blessings
        Of Poetic Words from
        You Stay Blessed Dear
        Smiles in
        Of Your SoulπŸ™ŒπŸ™πŸŽΆπŸ˜Š

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Wow thank you Fred….especially for the blessings. You’ll look like a beautiful couple.
          Actually, Soni was something my grandaddy called me. …like a pet name. Nobody else really called me that. My real name is Ruelha. I’m sorry I’ve been calling you Katie this whole time. πŸ™€πŸ™ƒπŸ™πŸΌπŸŒ»πŸ™€πŸ™ƒ

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Smiles Ruelha..
            Your Name is also
            Beautiful and
            A Sweet Pet
            Name Soni
            Your Grandfather
            Gave you.. haha..
            Never Really felt
            Like a Fred or really
            Any other Name now
            Just Loving Existence
            Free to be more like
            Love my Wife has
            A More Beautiful
            Name But
            Love knows
            No Labels
            Love is God
            Smiles Bless
            You πŸ˜πŸ€—πŸ˜‡

            Liked by 1 person

            1. Really? Never felt like a Fred….I’ve gone through that phase too….it lasted many many many years….πŸ˜ŠπŸ™ˆ….aww that’s so sweet…your wife does have a beautiful name….yes I agree…. God is love. Blessings of a beautiful weekend to you and your family, Fred and Katie

              Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s