My thoughts on smoking

Confessions of a Smoker
By
Nadeem Akram

It wasn’t the Marlboro man or the anglicized T.V. commercial trumpeting the presence of ‘Capstan the world over’, come to think to it wasn’t even the often chided peer pressure, no sir, none of the above are at fault for the ‘bad’ habit that I picked up some twenty seven years ago. Phillip Morris and Pakistan Tobacco Company can rest easy knowing that they did all they could to keep teenagers like myself away from their products. Did they not print the Surgeon General’s and Ministry of Health warnings as required by law? Is it their fault that the packs that were came my way had warnings that simply did not apply in my case? For instance, packs carrying warnings such as, ‘Smoking can cause birth defects’ or ‘Smoking during pregnancy can be hazardous’, would hardly deter a young man like myself to reconsider lighting one up. The warnings did not apply in my case and gave me all the more reason to continue smoking. For years, I smoked undamaging cigarettes. It was a little inconvenient to find the right pack, but never impossible.

Lately, it has become really difficult to find these anodyne cigarettes. With all the hype about smoking, cigarette manufacturers are producing far less cigarettes that can only cause reproductive disorders, or so it seems. The market is full of brand names cigarettes that proudly suggest that the twenty innocuous looking cigarettes inside the pack may cause emphysema, lung cancer, and cardiac disorders. An unassuming teenager could be excused for buying cigarettes that carry such warnings, after Latin is not our first, second or even third language. The Urdu equivalent of these diseases are equally dubious. I doubt if any one of the hundreds of thousand smokers in Pakistan actually know the meaning of ‘khunnaq’ a respiratory disorder often caused by smoking. This is precisely why I take great pains to hunt down a cigarette pack that causes none of the above-mentioned diseases. However, with each passing day, the availability of the right kind of cigarettes is getting problematic.

A few months back I was struggling to find the right kind of cigarette and I was about to throw in the towel. The nicotine levels in my body were at all time low, as I desperately searched for the right pack of cigarette. My long association with tobacco was about to come to an end when tobacco gods rushed to my rescue. My neighborhood departmental storeowner bumped into me as I fumbled out of my car in a last ditch effort to ressuscitate my asphyxiating addiction. ‘Sir, we have a fresh arrival of ‘imported’ cigarettes from Dubai’, he announced proudly. That was music to my ear. Over the years I have learnt one lesson well, given a choice between stale ‘imported’ cigarettes and freshly packed in Lalamusa, it is better to go with the imported stuff. At least the imported ones are real!

I rushed towards the store as my chest heaved with anticipation, or exertion, possibly both. With my fingers crossed and well concealed in my trouser pocket I crossed the threshold and impatiently asked the attendant for a pack of ‘lights’. I snatched the pack from the man’s hand and in the process skinned his fingers. Ignoring the puzzled man, I hastily turned the pack sideways to read the warning. The warning read: ‘Cigarette smoke contains Carbon Monoxide’. Ha, I muttered, is that all? Well duh, everyone knows that! I struggled to keep my emotions in check, and asked for an entire carton, instead of the customary single pack. I was out of the store and into my car, without giving the poor attendant a chance to count the money or wipe off that puzzled look from his face.

The first few tokes turned my brain into Jell-O, and my body into a giant washing machine. Everything around me spun like an industrial washing machine. Talk about head rush! The only other time I had this laundered feeling was at the time of lighting my first cigarette on a Rawalpindi bound train and the other when my father caught my cheeks and me by surprise in my bathroom with a cigarette stuck in my mouth. For a brief moment, I contemplated tossing the ‘imported’ cigarette out of the car and get this thing over with, but then I remembered that it was just Carbon Monoxide. Being a long time Lahore resident I should not worry too much about it, after all my daily consumption of this gas outweighs the little amount that I was inhaling at the time. So no worries there!

Like every smoker in the world, we, my friends and I, had our own little theories about smoking. Famous anti-smoking campaigner and therapist Allen Carr considers this as a self-deceit that smokers inflict upon themselves, but in the world enveloped in smoke, there is more room in gray areas than there is in black and white. When we were young, we figured that if we run a few miles a day, and did a few hundred push ups and sits up on a daily basis, we could do away with the ill effects of smoking. A few years later, running and exercise lost its charm, but smoking did not. Then one of us discovered Winston Churchill, and he became our role model. He smoked cigars, guzzled liquor, was overweight and yet died as an old man. His longevity inspired us. Every quit smoking debate ended with a mention of the ripe old age of the premier smoker. George Burns, it was rumored, slept with a lit cigar and still lived to be the oldest Oscar winning actor.

A non-smoking reader at this point may be excused for wondering if this article is meant to promote or condemn smoking and if there is a point to all this? Maybe there is maybe not, after all not all confessions turn out to be best sellers, now do they? Cigarette has been an extension of my being. I cannot even begin to imagine life without a cigarette. For the last twenty-seven years, I may not have felt ‘fresh’ in the morning. I often find it difficult to run or walk the way some of my non-smoker friends do. I may get a little worried every time, my heart misses half-a-beat, forcing me to rush to the doctor. But these are minor inconveniences compared to the good times I had being a smoker.

Before anti-smoking became a fashion, the last few rows of an airplane were the most happening place on an otherwise dull and boring transatlantic flight. All the cool people hung out in the back seats of the greyhound bus, which was always full of people, smoke and laughter. Arguably, cigarette is the coolest icebreaker ever invented by man. It is, or was, the best socializing tool. It provided you with perfect excuse to start a conversation with anyone, anywhere in the world, even if the other person was a non-smoker. ‘Do you have a light?’ or ‘can I bum/borrow a cigarette’ worked wonders, for most of us, during our time.

Unfortunately, today this lively bunch of people are ‘pilloried by society generally and particularly by those who have never smoked a cigarette in their life.’ Gone are the days when smoking was the surest way to move up the social ladder. The anti-smoking legislation has taken all the fun out of smoking. No longer can one enjoy a cigarette sitting in his office while contemplating his or her next move, nor can one lean back in his seat and enjoy a cigarette following a hearty meal. Flying, these days, is a nightmare for smokers. The presence of numerous smoke detectors and vigilant flight cabin crew have made it next to impossible to light one up. These cruel people fail to realize that when the nicotine leaves the body, it also leaves behind an empty and insecure feeling in a smoker. Imagine the pain and suffering.

And that is not all. The grape wine in the corridors, rooftops, parking lots, and little plexiglass cubicles is that it is no longer a matter of losing ones limbs, toes, and even life, it is a matter of survival for most of the smokers. The governments are contemplating to ban smoking in the public areas. Period. In not too distant future, the only place left for smokers would be the bathroom, and that too only if other family members regard freedom of choice as a man’s birthright. The overall scene is not encouraging for smokers at all. A recent marketing campaign by Pakistan Tobacco Company suggests that in the months and years to come, PTC may end up in timber business. PTC claims to have planted over 30 million trees so far, and promises a bright tomorrow. Surely, the campaign cannot be promoting cigarettes. A smoker can hardly look forward to a bright morrow; morning is always hazy and fuzzy even on a good day.

Given the scarcity of the right kind of cigarettes and more and more tobacco companies having a second thought about their line of business, I guess it is about time for me to say good-bye to the old friend. It was good while it lasted, and like all good things that must come to an end, this association should come to an end, while I am still ahead. Who knows, a week from today, the doctors may come up with yet another disease associated with smoking and it might be too late by then.