Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Are you ready to open your box? (II)


The story of online brothel


“Once we know where the doors of perception are, it’s really easy to open and close them, when we get used to own strange behavior.” quoted Paulo Coelho in his book “The witch of Portobello”. And I found it worth quoting before I begin to open the same box of yours with a different key.


Five guys crowning my “online” list yet beneath an eye-catching (yet indubitably a fake) add request waiting for my reply. With whom will you chat: known guy or unknown gal?

Confusion number 2: Should I chat or get ready; since Purva will be knocking my door soon?

And my final confusion, if I choose to go out with Purva, should I again go to upper lake or at some other place?

Confusions direct the flow of thoughts- After month of that bizarre encounter with a queer guy….

Before my subconscious mind could proceed with the string of thoughts, my conscious psyche hammered my heart, door unlocked, hormones secreted, cells stimulated and a single click over “yes” gave a fresh track to my today’s so called date with Purva.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Me: Hey Hi! (I don’t know why I didn’t controlled myself from doing so)

Shalini is busy. You may be interrupting

Shalini: Hi sexy! (Proof 1 of a fake profile)

Me: Sexy? Do I know you?

Shalini: Your acquaintance calls you sexy?

Me: May be jealousy halts them. (There was an urgent call for covering my stupidity of last statement)

Shalini: Ahaa, so you are!

Me: Probably.

Shalini: Then for the sexy one, I cut down my cost to 3000 bucks. As at least I will bear a pleasurable pain.

Me: Sorry?

Shalini: Can’t you afford this?

Me: Afford what?

Shalini: Don’t act as if you don’t know who am I?

Me: Must be Aman.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey you are not still ready? I didn’t did my facial, even didn’t took snoopy for a walk, travelled with the speed of light .. blah blah blah .. And still you are not ready?” I guess you don’t need her introduction once again, rather I should get ready.

“I am not in a mood to visit upper lake today.”

Great! She too has the same thought, coz it’s really difficult to convince her for the things I want.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Shalini: Sorry, it got dc.

Me: No problem. (It was me, but not me)

Shalini: So would you like to have sex with me?

Me: No

Shalini: Okay, I guess you are not taking me seriously, or, as everyone sense, you are also considering it a fake account. So, rather than wasting my time over such chat, I think I should introduce myself. I am Shalini, a 19 yr old prostitute from Bhopal, these days finding my customers online.

Me: So, what can I do for you? You want to get rescued from your brothel? You realized you are a sinner? You want to commit suicide now? Or you just want more and more sex?

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was the perfect ember for the upsurge of those emotions I never considered to think upon, those unfamiliar derivations from familiar theories, those realities of this bogus world. But before this tête-à-tête could start, she signed out from gtalk.

“Hey, I am getting late, let’s be in motion.”

“Ya, sure. I am ready”

As the elevator started descending, the guilt in her for using my profile elevated profoundly.

“I am sorry; I used your gtalk account.”

“No issues, you almost know all my friends”

“No, not your prostitute friend.”

“I don’t have any such friend”

“I am talking about Shalini.”

“Leave it, that’s a fake account.”

“But, I was thinking how a girl can get into such professions?”

“Why can’t?”

“Leave it; you don’t want to put light over this.”

“Only darker sides require light. “

“Yaa, but these thoughts will sound convincing if you can validate them with philosophy, psychology or logic.”

“Why don’t you ask Shalini about this?”

“Yes, it’s the best alternative.”

“I was just kidding, let’s go. If you want I ll Google for …”

But before I could complete, I could hear the heart beats of my PC, “Data” LED of modem struggling for stability. For the first time I was regretting my act of sharing my password with her, anyways all her attempts went in vain. She was not online.

“Let my PC sleep for some time, we can bother bodily waken up Janta of my locality.”

“Wait, you have a mail from her”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Every hour, four women and girls in India enter prostitution, three of them against their will. And I am one of those four girls, who entered into this one year back. Earning more than a lack (in hand) bucks per month, and I really don’t hit upon any grounds to leave this place, commit suicide or stop indulging in sexual activities.

Cervical cancer, Traumatic brains injury, HIV, many other STDs and Psychological disorders; you scholastic people know these theoretically, and here we experience them practically. May be, we greet our clients by abusing them, yet it too carries emotions, and that’s what our works culture is. Still no qualms, and if I am glad with it, what the hell is chocking your ass?

Shalini

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Any comments ma’am?”

“Block her and remove her from your friend list”

“Hey she is online now, let’s talk to her”

“No way”

“Then go away.” I knew human psychology; certain things can’t be repressed so easily; and she responded as if to prove that:

“Ask her you want to have a voice chat.”

Even I thought so, for the obvious reason- confirmation of the fake account. But to my surprise she was ready for it.

“Hi. How are you?”

“What would you like to know?”

It was expected, so rather in placing two mirrors parallel I thought of looking into each mirror discretely. Her voice was serene yet vociferous, as if pretending to be happy, veiling some sort of inner guilt.

“What exactly made you, I mean why …”

“Have you ever read about Taoism?”

“Ya, the one that talk about flowing with the natural urges, without violating the natural laws.”

“Impressive, aren’t sexual desires of humans natural? Even Freud explained it II guess.”

Our voice ceased and words obscured, and before we could say, she pushed another problem, “What is the basic idea of existentialism?”

“I don’t know”

“Search engines are there for your service”

(Existentialism: The individual solely has the responsibilities of giving one's own life meaning and living that life passionately and sincerely, in spite of many existential obstacles and distractions including despair, angst, absurdity, alienation, and boredom.)

“Okay, got it.”

“What?”

“Meaning of existentialism”

“But not what I meant to say, anyways, have you ever read about Jeremy Bentham?”

“No” (establishment of our naivety)

“Utilitarianism?”

“The one that talks about greatest happiness and all, I guess.”

“Ya, exactly. Don’t you feel prostitution eventually leads to the increase in the general happiness of the world?”

“I don’t think so”, asserted Purva.

“Then think twice, when you speak. And by the way, you really carry great guts, talking to a prostitute and your girl friend at the same time.”

“I am not his girl friend.”

“I know, I referred you with the other term.”

“What the hell are …” I tried bringing down Purva’s fury, and I continued, “Don’t you think it’s time to clear your mirrors? I don’t know whatever have you gone through but that don’t mean your perceptions should follow the same lane.”

“Do you really feel to know my perceptions? I know what kind of character these college girls hold, and better don’t mind over my bitter words, since they are not for you, but still …”

“Anyways, before I continue I want you to know; that I am not a prostitute, but I don’t even regret being a daughter of prostitute. And sometimes I am really proud of her; she raised me in a brilliant milieu, being herself at that filthy place. And even at the cost of her life. She died last year; another target of HIV.”, she bawled cathartically.

Should we say anything? Silence occupied those airs of disgust, resentment and pain. There were several questions hanging around my mind, and I was sure same was the case of Purva too, but the most hitting query was: Was her mother HIV positive before her birth? But I really don’t carry such GREAT guts, which can allow me to raise this question. The squelch sustained.

And she continued, “I am pursuing my graduation in philosophy, working on my final project on Prostitution. And since I too belong to college culture, I find prostitution culture isn’t that sinful. College girls visit boys’ flats, stay there even during nights, have sex. And, don’t you think it will be derogatory for a prostitute to be compared with such libidinous girls?”

“Prostitution isn’t in our culture.” It was really an ignorant comment from her side since even I know something about of the Devdasi culture.

“It was expected, and you know why I justified prostitution with Taoism, existentialism and Utilitarianism, but not on the basis of ethics, religion and culture, because Indians are really capable of manipulating everything through these or rather using them as a tool for whatever they want. Even Libertarianism and Kantian imperatives can logically justify their nothing wrong in prostitution, but the point is you should be ready to see things, as he told, through different perspectives.”

“I think I made my point, and I have to go now. It was nice talking to you. Bye.”

“Same here, bye.”

“Bye”

Norman Vincent Peale quoted in his book Positive Imaging-“We never have all the information that would enable us to make an absolutely just judgment. There are always certain things known by God. So, its better to leave the judgment to him.” And even if you ever gone through The Bible, haven’t you noticed that even Jesus allowed a prostitute to wash his feet.

I end up this time also with the same post script(P.S ): Are you ready to open your box?