I am just another cigarette in your hand.
The cigarette which you just lighted. You obviously do not give a damn to the fact that you have set me on fire for your enjoyment. You are engrossed in your own thoughts. It does not matter to you that you are finishing me puff by puff. With every puff you take you consume a part of me yet I do not matter to you as if the sole purpose of my existence is to give pleasure to you without asking for any thing.
It does not occur to you that the burns you are giving me are causing me immense pain. You are engrossed in your own world. You will go on to consume me gradually yet my existence does not matter to you. You are holding me in your hand yet you are oblivious to my presence. You have me in front of your eyes, yet you do not see me. Gradually I have started turning into smoke and ash but it does not matter to you that you are killing me.
I am suffering in silence. I am burning and screaming in silence yet you remain unmoved. You do not hear my screams; you do not see my pain. You do not value me at all as perhaps you have many more like me at your disposal. Maybe I would command some respect if I was the last one you had. You would still have finished me but then you would savour me, you would look at me, you would admire me. You would marvel at the joy I was bringing to your taste buds. You would have still finished me but then at least my existence would have mattered to you.
I know, at this time you will not care. Few more puffs and my entire existence would have turned into ash and smoke. You will just throw me on the ground, grind my lifeless body under your boots and bring out another one like me from your pocket.
I hope you did not have any more. I hope I was the last one your ever had but alas……
vikas sahar 