Monday, November 06, 2006

Hooked on Hookah

Take up a pipe, inhale sweet smelling smoke to your lungs, exhale gently and relax in the cool evening air with the luxurious perfume of your own breath caressing your senses and soothing your mind, to the accompaniment of soft music. An experience tailor designed to please and pamper the mind after all the crime the world gives you in a day.

It’s not indecent.


I don’t exactly know how to breathe in the smoke so that it goes out the right way. But I don’t care. The scent upon my breath intoxicates me, the taste upon my tongue, cheeks and palette thrills me, and my mood, earlier depressed, now comes to become sweet sorrow.

It’s not smoking.


Boozing, fagging, doping. All considered evil activities not worthy of superlative people. I used to think so too. But now I realise it’s not so. Okay, doping is evil. It needs to be eliminated. I have never been tempted and never will. Smoking is bad. Injure your own health and that of those around you. Once in fifteen days might be tolerable though. I have been tempted but never will. Drink is a personal choice. You’ll damage your own liver. Keep yourself in check, you’ll be fine. I have been tempted and perhaps might, in future.

It’s not harmful.

Hookahs, that way, are clean, safe, tolerable at the least. They aren’t physically or mentally habit forming but could be so emotionally. A nice way to finish off your frustration without harming yourself.

It’s not immoral.

I liked it.

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