Thug of Banaras Short Story

I thought the taste of Embassy was better while my cousin liked the taste of K-Too. We bought four or five cigarettes for the first time. Three embassies and two K-to. In those days, a fair was organized in the town. “Banarasi Thug” in Kutchi Talki saw his feet in broad daylight, hung them on his shoulder, and came home remembering Munoor Zarif’s dialogues. Performed two battles in one day.

That is, film and cigarette together as if two steps have been taken in one go. By the way. It was time for us to climb the stairs by holding the railing. On this occasion, I remembered a Muslim ruler. In the sixth grade, he left school after the first period to watch the fair and saw all the colors of the fair until midnight. The festival lasted for several days. After that, I performed the duties of a facilitator in driving other students away from school. We used to wander after school, bathe in the canal, pluck melons in the fields, climb trees and enjoy buffalo rides.

After a few days, the fair was over, but our hearts were betrayed and given the sign of cigarettes. The factory used to be haunted by the cigarette flame and smoke coming out of the mouth. One day, while studying at school, he started getting dizzy. Came home after half holiday. Dad took him to an elderly friend Hakeem. He held my wrist, checked my pulse, looked at me carefully for a few moments, and told me to eat it with curd in the morning.

The next day was a school holiday. There was loitering and smoking all day. Now I don’t remember if I wandered more or smoked more. Saw a gentleman smoking a cigarette moistened with saliva, both the cigarette and the spit were lost in the attempt to copy it. When he reached home in the evening, he started to feel dizzy. Dad again took him to Hakeem. He found a normal pulse. Lay down and advised to eat with curd.

The next day, after coming from school, went by as if there was no change in the country’s conditions. He puffed on a cigarette, tried to make a circle with the smoke, imagined riding a motorcycle in the well of death, let go of the handle, and raised his hands, the smoke came out of his mouth and formed a circle and dissolved. After many days of hard work, this success was achieved. Suddenly the head began to spin. Many times while returning home, it felt as if grandpa was wearing glasses.

The slopes made it difficult to keep one’s feet on the ground. He reached home and then attended Hakeem Sahib’s office. Dad’s concern and Hakeem’s thinking were clearly visible on their faces. Hakeem Sahib made a bed, came to me, looked at me for a few moments, then kept it in my shirt pocket and said softly, “If you smoke now, I will tell your father.”