The preface
The preface. Till late evening, he worked with his typewriter, cigarette burning between his lips, slowly inducing metaplastic changes in his lung cells with each drag. I don’t have a single memory of his when he didn’t have a cigarette in his mouth. It was as important a part of him as his hands and legs but, he couldn’t live without it but also it didn’t let him live long enough. Yes, it was tough for him to take care of him as a single parent. I was approaching my teenage years and the financial situation was tight. My father worked as human resources department for the state government and the salary was not enough for the both of us. So he spent it all on me. I did my schooling and also managed to get into a degree college. I never wanted to study but I did it for him. I knew he would be at least satisfied that he could provide me with education if not anything else. My mother passed away in my high school days and it was the toughest part for both of us, more for h...