He was riding his bike back home when it started raining. He stopped at the side of the road under a small shed of a cigarette shop where a few people were already gathered. Although he wasn’t the type that would avoid getting wet in the rain but he wanted to protect his laptop and phone from getting spoiled. He took out his phone, called someone but they didn’t respond and he put the phone back in his pocket. There was barely any space under the shed but he managed to protect his bag which contained the laptop. He went up to the counter and bought a cigarette after placing his helmet on the sales counter, as the cold rain drops hit his face, he held the lighter and lit the cigarette. He looked around as if he was searching for someone. He seemed lost but hopeful, scared but relaxed. This duality of his emotions seemed to confuse the people around him. They thought it was his appearance that was weird but it was more than what met the eye. He then got a phone call and his face lit up, he was refusing something being offered to him and then at the end of the call he agreed to something. The downpour continued; he lit another cigarette. It was an hour since the time he had stopped at this cigarette shop. He stepped out of the shed for a few seconds holding his head up to the sky, as if he was requesting the gods of rain to stop. But they didn’t listen to his prayers then, so he went back. The rain slowed down; a few people who were waiting at the cigarette shop began leaving. He didn’t, it seemed as though he was in no rush. He got another call, this time he got ready to go but stopped very suddenly when he heard something from the other side of the call. His excitement went down. He bought another cigarette and a can of soft drink too. After smoking his third cigarette he felt a kind of relaxation one would feel at home. He was standing at the side of a busy road at a local cigarette shop and he was at peace. By looking into his eyes, one could tell, he didn’t want to move. It was clear that he was in pain and that the choice of moving away from the source of his pain was his. Yet he chose not to, why would anyone do this to themselves? Did he reach a point in his life where he started enjoying pain? When will the rain stop so he can just go back home. It had been two hours since the time of his arrival at the cigarette shop. Most people had left, even the shop keeper went and sat at the restaurant next door. He was the only one who stood there staring into the mid-distance. There was a longing in his breathe for someone who would just hear him out and understand. He bought another cigarette and as he finished smoking it, he got another phone call. His face lit up every time he saw the name of the caller on the screen of the phone. He spoke to the person who had called, looked at the sky and noticed that the rain had slowed down a lot. He took his helmet, walked up to his bike, started it and rode away.
