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Our lips acted like
bolted gates
that would never
let the words
‘stop puffing like an engine, Baba’,
out.
My father’s luxury floated
in smoke rings.
Moradabadi* brass ashtray
would fill up.
He would chain smoke
the opponents of Indian cricket team
into pavilion.
Yet he would never sin
with any glowing tip
when Gavaskar, Tendulkar or Sourav
was batting.
The ashtray still remains.
*Moradabad is an Indian city famous for brass handicraft industry
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Smoking Tobacco @ Poets United
sumanar/lekha 
Poignant, oh, so moving! I especially love “Our lips acted like / bolted gates” and “My father’s luxury floated / in smoke rings.” And, of course, the whole field of cricket. And what remains. Sigh.
love everything about this poem… i have such a great image of old calcutta in this with the arm chair and cigarettes and chai and singaras…
I love the lips like bolted gates, allowing him his pleasures, though one can feel the concern. I am glad the ashtray remains, and the memories.
This is moving. The last lines almost tugs the heart. Has a peculiar old world charm to it
This is so beautifully evocative, especially like; “Our lips acted like bolted gates.”
I love the feel of this too, it is a beautiful write.
Anna :o]
Thank heavens you are a poet so this vivid memory can be preserved. I loved the humour of ceasing to smoke when the star batsmen were at the crease. Beautifully written Sumana.
that opening line is so visual and powerful.
Vivid images, the memory and humour, “He would chain smoke the opponents of Indian cricket team into pavilion.” makes this a wonderful piece. Brilliant!
I love the sense of memory and history in this wonderful poem
Yes, smoking used to be the way. Glad we have learned better.
” lips acted like bolted gates”…. Reminds me of legendary film-maker, Satyajit Ray portrait….Ah, my husband was like your Baba, Sumana. Though he had to quit after he developed a heart condition.
Cigarette for many is a friend with whom one wants to be alone when any human interaction is not welcome or at times of stress!!
Lovely write…. 🙂
Your poem brought back memories of my grandfather, a smoker for many years. I can still see how he held the cigarette between his fingers, flicking ashes into the ashtray. Thanks for stirring up the memories!
Chain smoking was an awful habit. So many did in those days. Glad we have become more enlightened, at least in this regard.
A wonderful portrait, so economically yet vividly penned. Yes, it was a bygone era, but as a former smoker (though not quite chain-smoker) I understand it well.