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| IN DARKNESS.... |
It
was the last day of Ganesh Chaturthi celebration. All those who were worshiping
the Lord Ganesh were getting ready for Visarjan, the immersion of the idol.
That evening the city roads in Pune were especially crowded with vehicles queuing
up in never-ending lines waiting for the procession to move. When dusk was
still lingering around in the horizons, Vikram, a budding journalist from Tamil
Nadu, was in one of the many buses waiting at the traffic post, his eyes fixed
on the signal, expecting the red to change to amber and then to green. In the bus
everyone seemed to be busy with their private chores. Young men and women
standing steadily holding onto the iron bar which alone was more or less clean
in that dirty bus, was not a rarity. Those youngsters were busy mumbling
meaningless words, or so it seemed to Vikram. Or was it lips humming the songs
played on their MP3 players. Days have changed! There were those days long
back, when people totally strangers to each other, who engaged in empty
chitchats just to while away time. Peeping through the windows he saw merry
boys and joyous young men dancing in front of the silver coated car that
carried the idol of Lord Ganesh. The music played there echoed in the ears of
everyone in the bus and most of them started to sway their bodies. “Ganpathi
Bappa Moriyaa” was resounding in the air, as the saffron flags flew
majestically.
As
the procession went past, the driver honked the horn and pressed the accelerator
as if to zoom past. The bus sped past many vehicles that were ahead, hardly
caring to stop the bus even at places where he was obliged to, in order to
reach his destination on time. Just about dusk, the bus reached the crowded
Manapa depot. Vikram was for the first time there with the special purpose of interviewing
the women in that Area, in order to throw light on the fate of women ‘working
in the dark’. He started walking out of the bus towards the bridge and the
place was very new to him. Just below that long bridge he saw dirty water
flowing uninterruptedly. The rain that was pouring cats and dogs had
fortunately ceased that day making his search easier. He was very sad to see small
children, who were supposed to play with dolls, selling dolls along the road.
He saw huge pipes damaged in the recent rain awaiting the Pune Municipal
Corporation to do something about it. He vowed to do something about it, once
he becomes a renowned journalist.
Without
much delay he wanted to find the way to Budhwar Peth, his destination. He enquired
an elderly man as to how to reach there and bang came the reply, “You seem to
be an educated person, why do you encourage such kind of bloody business,
playing with the lives of girls?” Nevertheless he pointed his hand towards the
place, saying, “Follow that crowd. It is going to the same place.” Vikram readily
agreed with the views of the elderly person, though a wee too hasty to jump to
conclusions. He saw a policeman with a big belly, smoking a cigar standing just
beside the road. He also observed many young men with tucked in shirts chewing
tobacco staining the road, as if to make their presence felt. And this in spite
of all their education!!!
Much
to his surprise, he saw people selling plantains and coconuts which are usually
sold in front of the temples. He walked further and saw a long queue of people
of all ages. There were devout mothers, draped in colourful sarees, carrying
their new born children on their hip. Vikram was bit surprised to see old men
and women being helped by others to stand in the queue. And there were more
armed men and women in uniform with their eyes scanning around. Lo and behold,
finally, he saw a huge temple and winding queues of people waiting to worship
Lord Ganesh. He heard people boasting about the Dagadusheth Halwai Ganapati
temple. He learned from them that it was the richest Ganesh temple and that the
gold-laden idol was worth a crore.
Much
to his dismay he also many small children and women begging for food with the
pictures of the Lord Ganesh. Places of worship are where poor people throng but
for the wrong reasons. Gods and goddesses adorned with ornaments while people
languish are nothing new. He took his sight from the temple and turned a
little. There he saw another chain of people, not men and women together,
rather of scantily clad women, young and old. Shockingly, the brothel was just
next to the famous temple. Women of all shapes and sizes, lined the road, short
and smart, tall and tender, slim, all heavily-made up to lure customers. They
kept on tugging him and nudging him, saying, “Hey, come to me... just hundred
rupees.” Another matron asked, “Which State’s girl do you want?” Burdened by the pathetic condition of the
young women, he trudged slowly along the stairs and went upstairs hoping that
he could meet someone and interview. Nearing the room, he noticed many young
men coming from upstairs and most of them seemed to be educated and affluent. He
could not but remember the words of the elderly man. Though the corridors were
littered with tobacco stains and condom packets, he was surprised to see the
rooms nicely decorated with fragrant perfume appearing to give the impression
of a five star hotel.
As
he stepped into the room, women took turns to seduce Vikram saying, “Darling…
come with me” even as they caressed him. Vikram looked at a woman sitting in a
corner of the room, though not very young yet looking beautiful, thanks to the
makeup. He learned from the matron that it was Rs. 200 an hour. He requested
her, “Can you come with me?” He called her because it appeared as if she was
the only one who could speak his tongue. As he went into the inner room, she
said, “Come in kid”, even as she giggled. Even as he entered the room, she shut
the door close and undressed herself and stood next to the bed dressed in her
inner wear, “Come on boy…hurry up. There are customers waiting.”
Over-whelmed
with anxiety, Vikram stood there in silence. Impatiently she repeated, “Come
on, you son of …...” Vikram opened his mouth, “Please dress yourself… please
for my sake.” She was shocked to hear his words, nevertheless with a queer
feeling she dressed herself saying to herself, “In all these decades, this guy
is the first one asking me to dress-up.” “Hmmm, I have dressed myself and now why
the hell did you come here?” she asked him. He said, “Cool down a bit. I am
here not to exploit you but to liberate you from this dirty business.” Telling
this he made her realize that he was with the special purpose of bringing the
sufferings of the women in darkness to light. She was very happy to see this
young and energetic man, who dared venture.
With
some fear within, Vikram took courage to question her, “What brought you here?”
“It
is a long story” she said. “I am now 35 years old and I entered this business
when I was just 15 not out of my own interest but the circumstances made me get
into the world’s oldest profession.” The question took her back to her early
years. She explained to Vikram how she was in search of a job in Chennai but
didn’t get anything. Everyone refused to give her a job saying that she was a
small girl. “With much anxiety without knowing what to do,” she said “I was in
Chennai central railway station. I saw many girls being taken somewhere by two
huge men. I thought it would give me a chance to survive and I approached and
requested the men to take me. And they took me with much joy on their face.
That day I didn’t know why they were happy for I was very small to understand.
But today I realize how they have ruined my life and now I am used to this
flesh trade for the sake of saving two lives down there” saying this she waved
her hand towards the window. Vikram went and saw through the window and was
very sad to see small children playing in the building nearby. She went near
Vikram and said, “These are the children who don’t have initials before their
names. There are many women here who have children and sell their flesh for
food in order to bring up their children.” Vikram felt very sad and didn’t have
a word to say. As he was sadly and silently looking at the children, she said,
“Somehow we are different from other people. All begin their work once the
darkness is over. But we begin our profession only when the darkness starts.
And we sell our flesh in darkness and never do we see light in our lives. The
world outside refuses to accept us as ordinary people and so we are forced to
be in this flesh trade.”
“As
for me, I am thirty five and my life is almost ruined. Think of those young
women who are not even eighteen” saying this she pointed her hands the other
side and Vikram saw many girls and he learned from her that most of them are imported from Nepal, Manipur, Andhra and
Tamil Nadu. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and as Vikram opened the
door, the matron with a stick in her hand said, “Hey your time is over. Get out
fast. The next customer is waiting for her” Vikram didn’t know what to do. An
idea clicked and he said, “Here is five hundred rupees. Can I continue for some
more time?” Seeing the money the huge lady grabbed and said, “Finish it quickly.”
As
he closed the door and moved towards her, she said, “Whether Ganesh Chathurthi
or flag hoisting in the red fort, our life in this red light area is in
darkness. We sell our body just like vegetables in the market and the men use us
and throw away. We don’t want to continue this flesh trade yet compelled to
carry on. I have seen many men in the long years but never a man like you. You
have to do something for all of us in darkness. I believe you can bring light
to our lives. Saying this she bent down and tried to touch his feet, and as
Vikram also bent down to lift her up the things in his pocket fell down. While
she took them from the ground, she was shocked and started to perspire looking
at the photo in her hand. With beads of tears flowing from her eyes, she asked,
“Are you Vikram?” “Yes. I am” was the answer. She cried and said pointing at
the photo, “This is me, your sister Madhavi, who ran from the village when you
were just three years old.”
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