Cigarette Nights

Shaam ke 7 bajne mein abhi ek ghanta hai… ahhh… Bahar jaane ka mann ho raha hai. Zara usko message karta hoon.

“Ha bhai, kitne baje chalega? Bol?” Kehta hai, “7 tak nikalte hain.” Chal theek hai, tab tak thoda intezaar.

Saat bajte hi jacket daali, darwaza khola, nikla. Seedha uske ghar ka gate. Ting ting… khat khat… Uncle aaye, bole, “Acchu hai, ha ruko…” Main bola, “Abe aana saale…” Kehta hai, “Rukja be…”

Thand hai, halki halki. Hum nikal padhe, aur shuru ho gayi apni bakchodi. Main bola, “Kya karein aaj? Kidhar chalein? Kaunsi cigarette fukein?” Kehta hai, “Apne adde pe chalte hain.” Main bola, “Behenchod, main nahi jaa raha us murder wale park… Deer park chalte hain.” (Us raste se kuch yaadein judi hain…)

Chalte chalte road cross kiya, aur ek tappa maar ke ghus gaye JnK park mein. (Behenchod, ye wale park pe mat focus karo… just ignore it.)

Aur jaise hamesha, usne apni Bangalore ki bakchodi nikaal li. Main thahaake maarne laga. Phir wohi purani baatein… Roz hoti hain, lekin har baar utna hi maza aata hai.

Park se nikle, main road pe aaye… Thoda aage chale, fir right… “Kahaan hai tapri? Abe kaha hai tapri?” “Behenchod, tandoori chicken! Tapri kahaan hai?” “Are wo rahi, chal chal!”

Pohonche. “Konsi piyega?” Woh mujhse bada hai, to kabhi kabhi bade bhai waale attitude mein baat maan leta hai. Main bola, “Main nahi pi raha, share kar lunga. Swift le le.” “Tu le…” “Abe tu le na…” “Bhai le na yaar… Please.”

Usne le li. Muh mein daali. Maachis nikali. Pehli baar jalayi — nahi jali. Gaand fati hogi shayad us din. Dusri maachis nikali — jal gayi.

Uska style… ekdum atrangi, alag. Saale ki soorat kuch bhi ho, lekin cigarette jalane ki elegance ka fan hoon main. “Chal bhai, park ke andar chalte hain.” “Chal…”

Andhera, khamoshi, thoda khalipan… ek alag hi vibe. Chalte chalte kash liya — ek tu, ek main, fir ek tu, fir ek main. Patli si cigarette se kiss karte rahe. Ladke bhi kiss karte hain — cigarette share karna, bhaichara badhane ka tareeka hai.

Thoda ghooma park mein… Fir saale ko moot lag gayi. Suna tha sutta peene se tatti lagti hai, lekin aaj toh peshab ka case ho gaya.

Park mein toilet dhoondhne lage… “Kahaan hai?” “Abe wo raha!” Pressure time ke saath badhta hi gaya…

Toh pohonche toilet tak — locked. Main bola, “Bhosdike, pehle hi bola tha jhaadi mein karle.” Akhir wahi karna pada.

Woh moot raha tha, aur main usko daraane laga — “Abe chuha! Dekh dekh…”

“Ho gaya bhai? Kitna karega?” “Aaja…”

Phir wapas chalte chalte nikal gaye park se… Aur fir shuru ho gayi apni bakchodi ki cassette.

“Cigarette peene itni door aaye hain saale, dar lagta hai. Baap ne dekh liya toh chaati pe laat padegi — for real.”

Phir kuch khane lage… Yaad nahi kya khaya, shayad bread pakode. Thodi baarish bhi ho rahi thi… halki halki…

Aur fir wapas wahi raasta — apna ilaaka, apni colony, apni gali, apni building, apne ghar.

Maza aaya, behenchod. Ek aur sutta-worthy shaam.

acchu bhai Ye hai wo gandu. ACCHU 😘