It was a long time ago. But in my mind's eye, I can replay the exact sequence of events like it happened yesterday. I had just finished my classes at college and was walking towards the bus stop when I noticed at the corner someone who seemed familiar. It was my sweetheart (who is now my husband), smoking with his friends in front of the cigarette shop diagonally opposite the college entrance! I was stunned. I had made it clear to him that I could not tolerate people who smoked. How could he do this? Like all 16-year-olds, I had dreamed of the perfect guy -- someone who doesn't drink (excessively) or smoke (at all) and would never look at any other woman again since he had found the best in me! Okay, so maybe I was naïve. But I did think my dreams had come true. I had met a nice-looking, decent guy, who actually seemed interested in me, despite my extra kilos and my glasses. Okay, so maybe I was naïve. But I thought I was the luckiest gal in town. He not only projected a clean image that any mother (except mine, of course) would adore, he also made it clear that he only smoked occasionally and was willing to give it up. All for me, yes! Okay, so maybe I was naïve. But I was also elated. I had actually met someone who was going to give up something just for me! That's what I believed. Until... THAT sultry afternoon, when I espied him smoking with his friends, I could not believe it was the same person I had fallen in love with. To my mind, he was committing a crime by doing something I abhorred. I stormed towards the bus stop after giving him one of my dirtiest I-cannot-believe-you-can-do-this-to-me look. He (being young himself) ran after me and caught up with me just as I reached the bus stop. Of course, he knew why I was reacting so violently. He looked at me with soulful eyes that said 'sorry-but-I'll-never-do-it-again'. I was floored. He then did something even more convincing. He grabbed the notebook I was carrying and wrote 'I will never smoke again'. It was our first anniversary together. I was in tears. Okay, so maybe I was a little naïve. I rushed home, thanking my lucky stars that I had found such a loving soul. Six years later, we were married. He was studying in a city far away from our hometown for the most part of four years, so I had no idea whether he had been smoking. Now, of course, I do. Two more years we saw each other off and on since I was working in a different city. He was still trying to cut down on his daily dose of nicotine, which had gone up alarmingly, as I discovered later. I tried everything. I cajoled, I threatened, I even cried. Nothing worked. He was always 'trying' to cut down. I tried subtlety too -- sent him articles about the danger to smoker's lungs, inspirational stories about how smokers had given up and were living happily ever after. Still nothing. On the contrary, he now claims he never wrote any note promising never to smoke again! (I still have that slip of paper tucked in the inside pocket of my purse.) Thus, life goes on. While he continues to live on his daily dose of nicotine, I continue to live in hope! Maybe Anita Bora is still a little naïve. Tell us what you think of this diary Be part of an exciting venture!   Write a Diary!
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