Nov 8th, 2006
Garstin Bastion Road (GB Road)
She was in her late 20's, sitting on a staircase leading to her veranda. Her shapeless body didn’t go too well with what she wore; her belly was peeking out from her black Ed-Hardy deep neck, sleeveless t-shirt. With hollow cheeks and kohl clad empty eyes, she tried too hard to cover her chapped lips with a magenta lipstick outlined in a much darker shade. She was strikingly fair above her neck – Thanks to some cheap foundation she put upon her face. Comical, yet Tragic!
And she said with a big smile on her face, “Mardo ko sirf mutth jhadni hoti hai, ham aaaaah..... uuuuunh... karke kaam jaldi nipta dete hain…”
This nonchalant, bold statement instantly caught hold of my confidence. I was sitting right in front of her on an old couch, unusually nervous. She, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the whole situation and her dominant status in the conversation
; I can feel the blatant dominance in her
Background Music: ‘Pardesi, Pardesi...jana nahi...’ from Raja Hindustani.
“Kuch piyega?” she questioned in a kinky tone. I had heard stories about how they injected you with AIDS infected syringes, castration and so on. “Pepsi,” I mumbled. She brought me a fancy glass with the drink, at which I stared.
Sensing my disapproval to drink in that glass and to ease the situation, she clarified enthusiastically,
“Ye glass sirf customer ke liye hote hai!” I retorted, “Main aapka
customer nahi hun.” She smiled and quipped, “Nahi hai to ban
jaa na.” I smiled back and
ignored the whole thing.
The ambience was dark, filthy and chilling enough to terrify even a tattoo clad Casanova. Nearby on the floor, two kids was playing Ludo, ignoring what is happening on those 6x6 wooden cubes just above them. This very scene made it all too clear; sex is not a taboo for them but a profession, inherited at that!
As I was sipping some of my drink, a balding man steps down from one of the cubes and I got a chance to sneak into the room. On the floor was sprawled a lousy bed sheet. The room had a perpetual stink of used condoms and bidis. It has a dustbin, some water in plastic pouches, a charred window, newspapers used as tissue papers and a small radio – probably to block the voices.
Suddenly she interrupted, “Aap likhte ho?” I nodded, to which she said in a very pitiful voice, “Hamara roz rape hota hai, hamari marzi se....sex karna aacha nahi lagta, roti kamani hai na to sab karna hota hai.”
When we come back to the seating area, the bald guy gives 200 bucks to her, places a kiss on her cheeks, looks at me in disgust and leaves. “Ye hamara regular customer hai...iska jaldi ho jata hai,” mocking the way he cums!
Cut the foreplay, it’s all about basics here. Sex means: Pull Up. Pull Down. Open Up. Pop In. Few Minutes and Game Over!
We talked about many things, weird things for the next 20 minutes. She told me about men’s fetishes
,- bone chilling, disgusting fetishes!
She introduced me to her sister ‘Aleena’. She’s not more than 20. “Hindi mein likhoge ya English mein?” she asked me. I smiled and replied, “English mein...aapke liye hindi mein translate kar dunga.” She innocently smiled
As I was about to leave, I asked her name politely. She replied “Kya sir, randiyoon ka naam nahi hota” and thus annexes my neurons.
I asked her name to one of the pimps standing downstairs the brothel. “Adeena”, he replied. A beautiful name indeed! I couldn’t resist the urge to research the meaning of the name.....
‘Pious’, it was!
From tit-bits of one of my early days interview spree...