âYour male dominated society turned me a whore today.â she said in an alarming tone.The tone sounded like the hiss of a furious snake.âWhat the fuck!? I mean Why?â, Raj asked.âOh Why!! You must ask why. Just because to eat my bare flesh. To spank me. You bastards!â She almost thrashed raj apart.â The fact is that I haven't touched you once since I came in this room. I have paid your full money in exchange of some informationsâ. Raj adds, ânow that I want to know about the reason that why did you choose this profession and what exactly do you get to work in this sort of work.Means in the satire of this extremely nasty brothel, dirty minded pimps and a weird mistress is standing always to see if a customer exceeds his time limit. Can you please seek me the mercy to tell about it? I think I have already completed 10 long minutes listening your grievances against menâ.After exactly 57 minutes and 32 seconds when Raj left the room, the only thing he could do was to take a long really long breath to rejoice the taste of fresh oxygen.Raj Sircar,26, is a journalist whose work is to write about weird incidents that revolves around the corridors of Kolkata.He knows what exactly the public wants to read. When a rape case hunts the floor he has to collect the entire report of the victim. Some are true. Many acts as a catalyst to just fool the mass.There is a huge competition between the news channels. Like who can collect the first update?He hates collecting those news regarding fake epitome of her life that has no connection with the true story.He always tries to get something new that nobody usually notices.The editor of his newspaper gave him a final reminder to submit such news that can rise the sales of the paper.They seems least interested to publish such news that has no sexual element in it.Raj began to recollect all the data in his brain. Each and every detail that Meenakshi, told him. In her own words.âI was 6 that time when my parents died in a road accident. My uncle raised me. We stayed in Champamari village in Purulia.My aunty used to beat me severely whenever I committed any mistake. I was literally a servant in their house since my entire childhood. Right from washing dishes to going to market to bring the huge water filled containers.Everything I used to do. I just accepted everything as my fate because I felt that atleast they are giving me food to eat and a home to stay. Only when my uncle allegedly raped me at the age of 11, being drunk, I felt helpless and finally decided to leave the house. I fled to Kolkata.And the funny part is I thought I'll get a job in Kolkata.I met Sujan at the railway station. The only one who tried to help me. He assured me that he'll land me a job there.And he gave me a job.He mixed some pills in my drinks and when I opened my eyes.I found this room.From then this is my heaven.I have to give minimum 2024 rupees per day to my mistress otherwise she will beat me terribly. The goons are ready to rape anytime. I am not allowed to go outside.Awesome life of mine. Isn't it?Several drunk men comes to grab me. I hate the smell of wine. They insists me to drink, forcing me to commit sex, without condoms. Some extra bucks to my mistress and they gets the license.My rate is rupees 1000 per hour.âRaj can never forget the last lines of Meenakshi.âCan you please yell me that why do nobody tries to protect us? I usually see several walks with candlesticks after each and every rape incident takes place. Only resulting to a huge gain to that industryâ.No media focuses about us. Because rape catches TRPs. Our profession does not.Why?Donât we get raped at every minute in our life?Is it not considered a rape?When every customer tears us like a boneless chicken.And if you think why do not we escape from here the reason is simply that we can't.Society will not accept us.Are we not human beings?Arenât we?Why do not any government takes a steady initiative about us?Is it for that prostitution is not considered as a sacred profession?Your society, the men only knows how to use your organ. Into us,â. Society, the men only knows how to use your organ. Into us."Raj got a juicy coverage today.His story is shortlisted to the best FICTIOUS STORY category in the Sunday's newspaper.Instead of a true, real life incident of a woman.âPublic will not eat it. You just only focus on the sexual interaction part between the girl and his uncle. The rest shall be as it is. But edit the parts that hurts the society values and male sentimentsâ.The editor gave his final instructions to Raj.People enjoyed the story. Acclaimed feminists appreciated it. While enjoying black coffee and sitting on her comfortable seats.(A LITTLE PART FROM THE CITY)IT IS 2.30 AM showing on clock now. The last customer of the day left the room. Durgarani kept the money in her box. A black and white photo was there sleeping peacefully in the corner of the box.âMom, where are you? Mom, momâŚ.â,and again she cried. Silently. Her growling voice and teary eyes indicated towards a photo. A smiling village woman holding her little daughter. The baby was happy. Her mother gave her the name today. Durgarani.Nobody calls her in this name today.The next morning when she went outside wearing her saree, she saw her mistress with a new customer.âMeenakshi, please try to satisfy him properly. My sweetheartâ, she politely conveyed the real message.With a beautiful smile on her face,Meenakshi began her day.(INSPIRED BY TRUE INCIDENTS)Image Source: //http://goo.gl/images/w3MP1C. Image is used for representational purpose only.Here is an another story written by me. The link,Anirban Chakraborty's answer to Which are some of the most amazing stories ever?.Anirban Chakraborty.(Original published as The Tale Of a Prostitute )
