Habit

 He holds a cigarette in between his fingers

And gives a stained smile

That stinks like broken promises

His god-send wife and these darned cigarettes

He couldn't imagine a life without them

He hides his secret stash from her 

How could he lie to her lovely face

And his guilt drives him to take a puff or two.

'It's her fault', he laughs.

She oils her granddaughter's hair

And plaits it tightly

Make a habit of doing this everyday

To get beautiful long locks of hair,she said.

When cancer stole the whole of 

her darling's hair

Grandma shaved her head too

'Who needs hair anyway?', she giggled.

He led a life of solitude

And he often found it dangerous

But when she started visiting his life

He made an extra cup of coffee for her

He held her in a way he had never been held before

And her favourite habit of his 

Was how he whispered 'I love you' 

Just before he kissed her.

Humans hold strange habits

When one helps to hold back an empty shell of his past

From merely flying away

Another breaks it to pass on the energy

To something more valuable

And yet to another it could come through 

As a ray of hope for a new life.

And sometimes they help us survive

When you come back crying to a home without her,

A cigarette could save you.

The hair that grows back after a strong fight 

looks even more prettier in braids.

The way your broken heart still had the courage to whisper

'I love you's when new love came just

Because she taught you to live a life alive.