14th street Kamathipura
“Hey Krishna! Am I that bad? “
I lied there as cold as ice, as immobile as a rock , waiting for some applied force to remove my state of inertia. But nothing seems to happen. No where nobody seems to care. It was just me, the naked body of a pretentious soul who tried to quench the thirst of her own carnal and dumb destitution. I turned my face and hid it inside the pillow…some crazy ant who resided on the pillow to suck the elements of oil inside it bit me hard. But with a single pinch, I thumbed it down and crushed it’s body. Ha! What an irony…this is how the omniscient omnipotent crushed my whole life.
I turned again to face the wall. Even the wall seemed mocking me.
“Hey you bloody traitor” it calls me. I shut my ears unable to take more. Oh I can hear some music…playing from that horizon of life which is unformidable and restricted to me… Ha gazal!
“ Tum Ko dekha to ye…ghayaal aaya…
Zindagi Dhoop Tum Ghana saaya”
And that was his favourite, I hummed together with the consistently fading voice
“ Aaj phir Dil ne ik tammanna ki…”
No. Not today…my heart wishes for nothing but salvation, which I know I can never achieve even if I amreborn in this viscious cycle of Karma for another 1000 years.
“ Yes Iam that bad”
“ No. You aren’t. And you’ll never be”
That little voice in my head whispered with affection. Yet I chose to ignore that voice because lately I find it hard to juxtapose between the voice of my soul and the voice of my deadly dangerous brain.
***********
It all seemed like a dream. You know there are these specific types of dreams which suddenly prop up in your head in the form of a villain killing your peaceful sleep that you were enjoying and turning it easily into a treacherous roller coaster ride where you find yourself holding on tightly but you know the fact that you are going to loosen the grip because somewhere someone screams. “ Hey...you idiot there is no point in holding on” and that moment when you completely let go off the grip you are sure that you are going to face the ultimate because you are falling off from the sky and you just cannot do anything about it. This was how my story began…they told me it was easy…they told me
“ Maa…aap teek hoge…Darna math, mere peeche aavo”
And me! Dumb me! I followed them restlessly interrogating them about the time when the food would be served rather than finding the ways in which I could have escaped.
“ You had no choice…and you know very well how hunger kills your reason and puts you in a state where you’ll never be able to think of anything else.”
“ Keep quiet” I shouted.
The cat underneath my bed purred and meowed getting irritated.
“ Not you idiot!” I told him…he looked at me with the same disgust he had on his face when I did it. He was the only witness.
Krishna…Am I turning mad? I started talking to myself and I can’t find reason to stop it.
Oh! There is some commotion outside. No! There is something going on outside. I put on my duppatta…my heart started beating so hard…my hands started sweating even though it was profoundly cold…Whatever happens I should look young and wild…always ready to welcome.
******
As I stood infront of the mirror, I thought about my old self , the way I combed my hair so graciously that he would always call me his queen of grace , the way he lifted my spirits up high through cheesy yet romantic words , the way he called me his angel...I laughed so hard…that my stomach started aching
“ You moron!”
We were married at a very young age, I was just 12 and he 18. I could not find lust in his reddish brown almond eyes which sparkled because I was innocent and unaware of this wreckful world of adults. He loved me for the sake of love and I was merely a sexual toy. Those nights he kicked me out of my bed roaring that I stunk like old rotten tomatoes, those moments when the pure girl inside me was trying to give him happiness , the way he hammered that I cannot give him happiness ever in my life…the way he bit my lips and drank the blood which dropped down through my lips…the way he kicked my left breast that its infection lasted for more than three years , the way he crushed my whole body that I found it hard to walk for a week after his arrivals.
“Ha …what a gruesome, evil and dreadful sadist you were…I am happy that I lost you”
******
I slowly opened the door…It was Mayuri maa..
“ Oh! Deedi! Tumne mujhe Dara gayi”
“ Darna math beti…everything is alright. Shall I send one in?
“Yes . Iam going to make him feel loved”
******
Inside the room, I felt like I betrayed her…she has supported me for everything and she calls me her ' good luck' . Should I do it again? My streams of thought were interrupted by the cat's hungry meow. I took the bottle in which I kept milk for him and I saw the drops of blood…
It was yesterday night…I waited for my usual ' client'. But I saw an old man of fifty entering casually onto my room and he had the same reddish almond eyes. The revenge porridge which boiled in my stomach for 23 years took the form of a monster and hid my usual self. I was the most beautiful and tempting prostitute in the whole world yesterday…and with a single slash of my knife I kicked out the life from that grungy stinking body the same way he kicked me out of his bed when I was just 15.
******
“ You did ?”
“ Yes. Yesterday!”
“ Is there any point in me asking how did it go? “
I answered with a sly smile “satisfactory”
“ Now can I take your hand in marriage? “
“ Yes” I answered.
At last a prostitute found love in a desperate man who once was her ‘usual client’ and who valued her existence.
“Hey Krishna! Am I that bad? “
I lied there as cold as ice, as immobile as a rock , waiting for some applied force to remove my state of inertia. But nothing seems to happen. No where nobody seems to care. It was just me, the naked body of a pretentious soul who tried to quench the thirst of her own carnal and dumb destitution. I turned my face and hid it inside the pillow…some crazy ant who resided on the pillow to suck the elements of oil inside it bit me hard. But with a single pinch, I thumbed it down and crushed it’s body. Ha! What an irony…this is how the omniscient omnipotent crushed my whole life.
I turned again to face the wall. Even the wall seemed mocking me.
“Hey you bloody traitor” it calls me. I shut my ears unable to take more. Oh I can hear some music…playing from that horizon of life which is unformidable and restricted to me… Ha gazal!
“ Tum Ko dekha to ye…ghayaal aaya…
Zindagi Dhoop Tum Ghana saaya”
And that was his favourite, I hummed together with the consistently fading voice
“ Aaj phir Dil ne ik tammanna ki…”
No. Not today…my heart wishes for nothing but salvation, which I know I can never achieve even if I amreborn in this viscious cycle of Karma for another 1000 years.
“ Yes Iam that bad”
“ No. You aren’t. And you’ll never be”
That little voice in my head whispered with affection. Yet I chose to ignore that voice because lately I find it hard to juxtapose between the voice of my soul and the voice of my deadly dangerous brain.
***********
It all seemed like a dream. You know there are these specific types of dreams which suddenly prop up in your head in the form of a villain killing your peaceful sleep that you were enjoying and turning it easily into a treacherous roller coaster ride where you find yourself holding on tightly but you know the fact that you are going to loosen the grip because somewhere someone screams. “ Hey...you idiot there is no point in holding on” and that moment when you completely let go off the grip you are sure that you are going to face the ultimate because you are falling off from the sky and you just cannot do anything about it. This was how my story began…they told me it was easy…they told me
“ Maa…aap teek hoge…Darna math, mere peeche aavo”
And me! Dumb me! I followed them restlessly interrogating them about the time when the food would be served rather than finding the ways in which I could have escaped.
“ You had no choice…and you know very well how hunger kills your reason and puts you in a state where you’ll never be able to think of anything else.”
“ Keep quiet” I shouted.
The cat underneath my bed purred and meowed getting irritated.
“ Not you idiot!” I told him…he looked at me with the same disgust he had on his face when I did it. He was the only witness.
Krishna…Am I turning mad? I started talking to myself and I can’t find reason to stop it.
Oh! There is some commotion outside. No! There is something going on outside. I put on my duppatta…my heart started beating so hard…my hands started sweating even though it was profoundly cold…Whatever happens I should look young and wild…always ready to welcome.
******
As I stood infront of the mirror, I thought about my old self , the way I combed my hair so graciously that he would always call me his queen of grace , the way he lifted my spirits up high through cheesy yet romantic words , the way he called me his angel...I laughed so hard…that my stomach started aching
“ You moron!”
We were married at a very young age, I was just 12 and he 18. I could not find lust in his reddish brown almond eyes which sparkled because I was innocent and unaware of this wreckful world of adults. He loved me for the sake of love and I was merely a sexual toy. Those nights he kicked me out of my bed roaring that I stunk like old rotten tomatoes, those moments when the pure girl inside me was trying to give him happiness , the way he hammered that I cannot give him happiness ever in my life…the way he bit my lips and drank the blood which dropped down through my lips…the way he kicked my left breast that its infection lasted for more than three years , the way he crushed my whole body that I found it hard to walk for a week after his arrivals.
“Ha …what a gruesome, evil and dreadful sadist you were…I am happy that I lost you”
******
I slowly opened the door…It was Mayuri maa..
“ Oh! Deedi! Tumne mujhe Dara gayi”
“ Darna math beti…everything is alright. Shall I send one in?
“Yes . Iam going to make him feel loved”
******
Inside the room, I felt like I betrayed her…she has supported me for everything and she calls me her ' good luck' . Should I do it again? My streams of thought were interrupted by the cat's hungry meow. I took the bottle in which I kept milk for him and I saw the drops of blood…
It was yesterday night…I waited for my usual ' client'. But I saw an old man of fifty entering casually onto my room and he had the same reddish almond eyes. The revenge porridge which boiled in my stomach for 23 years took the form of a monster and hid my usual self. I was the most beautiful and tempting prostitute in the whole world yesterday…and with a single slash of my knife I kicked out the life from that grungy stinking body the same way he kicked me out of his bed when I was just 15.
******
“ You did ?”
“ Yes. Yesterday!”
“ Is there any point in me asking how did it go? “
I answered with a sly smile “satisfactory”
“ Now can I take your hand in marriage? “
“ Yes” I answered.
At last a prostitute found love in a desperate man who once was her ‘usual client’ and who valued her existence.
