Thoughts and Puffs
The ritualistic commitment of a cigar is my perfect metronome
My grandfather smoked most of his life. He didn’t smoke cigarettes, he had bidis. It’s more like a cigarillo but milder with an Indian twist.
My father used to help my grandfather to support the family, they were carpenters and some of the best in town. Both incredible craftsmen (my father is a mechanical engineer now), but no matter the craft, there will always be moments where a builder is stumped.
I learned that my grandfather had smoking breaks to think through carpentry problems. He would sit back, think, puff, and then get back to it. At first you can easily attribute this to nicotine to activating the nicotinic acetylcholine receptors, enhancing focus, but I am not so sure anymore.
There is something about puffin tobacco, whether it’s a bidi or something like a cigar, that fosters contemplation. It’s the ritual; the ritual of sitting down, pulling out a cigar, cutting, and lighting it. It’s a perfect situational cue to think.
Doing so, allows me to get deep into thinking and contemplation. It forces me to sit, commit, and think. It’s hard to do anything productive with a cigar in the hand so I really don’t have a choice.
I think a lot. Like a lot. Scattered and about, but a cigar, brings overthinking to a halt. The ritualistic commitment of a cigar is my perfect metronome.
It slows the anarchy of my mind…
One puff at a time…
One thought at a time…
One moment at a time…
Word count: 249
Twitter: @bhavprajapati
