In the City of Joy, very close to the heart of the city, are the lanes where sex sells cheaper than a pair of woodland shoes! Yes guessed it correctly, Sonagachi – a place where the city turns to satiate its basic instinct. As the sun sets, the backdrop drastically changes from a bustling traffic riddled C.R.Avenue to a shady red-light area. The pavements get dotted with creatures of the dark - the mistresses of carnal joy with dicey offers and appealing charisma.
I was a bit late that day, had upgraded my desktop from Chandni Chowk and was walking towards the metro station. With a heavy system to carry, it was a relief to see the sidewalks having a few people. I had only walked a block to find women in revealing clothes measuring me up. I was new to the city, having come from Bangalore only a month back. Not knowing about this infamous place from before, my gut sense told me that something was very odd about it.
I paced up to a brisk walk, wanting to cross the area as soon as possible. But to my surprise I found that the more I walked the more towards the core area I was heading. The glances of the sluts changed to mouthing me their rates and sleazy offers for cheap sex. With my wallet stashed with cash, a newly upgraded system and a costly wrist-watch, I was good loot for the urchins there. In case anything went out-of-hands my shout for help would go unheeded with the police, stuffed with their cut money, nowhere to be seen.
My mind clouded with grey thoughts, heart beating the wind out of my lungs I walked on praying to the million Indian Gods and Goddesses. Suddenly one skinny man, with an orange-peel like face scarred with chicken pox marks, walked into my way and exclaimed “Babuji aapko khush kar denge, naach dekhna hai to der hazaar, puri raat ka paanch - boliye school girl, college girl, bhabiji - kya chahiye!” I was stunned, not knowing what to say. I did not even look at him - as if deaf I walked on leaving him behind.
I had barely taken two steps, that I heard one of the pimps telling the other “Is gore-chitte saab ka to hum free mein lenge”. I could feel I was shaking - may be out of fear, may be out of anger, I do not know. Those glances, the crude smell of their perfume and my vulnerability, all combined was nauseating. Just then I could hear an approaching car. I turned back to find a cab coming my way, looking for passengers. My prayers were answered - I frantically waved at it and yelled “Taxi!” at the top of my voice. The taxi stopped, I opened the door and almost leapt inside slamming the door behind me. The cabby, an aged Sikh driver, was no less than an angel rescuing me from the lanes of hell.
In the cab, it took me some time to settle down, after which I lit a cigarette and reflected on my predicament. I found that we the people from ‘good society’ are the root cause behind the mushrooming of sex industry. Be whatever the reason, dissatisfied men turn to brothels for sex, with a hope that their upright image in the society would not get tarnished. This in turn encourages sex workers, providing them with an easy way to fast money.
Looking back at the golden ages, when men were chaste and women virgins before marriage - free from sexually transmitted diseases the society was healthy, sex was considered to be a physical expression of love, Jove was busy with his golden darts. Prostitution has spoiled it all, pimps play Jove, sex is money – the more you are ready to shell-out the better whores you get. Pleasure is an industry and sin is now a city called Las Vegas!
I was a bit late that day, had upgraded my desktop from Chandni Chowk and was walking towards the metro station. With a heavy system to carry, it was a relief to see the sidewalks having a few people. I had only walked a block to find women in revealing clothes measuring me up. I was new to the city, having come from Bangalore only a month back. Not knowing about this infamous place from before, my gut sense told me that something was very odd about it.
I paced up to a brisk walk, wanting to cross the area as soon as possible. But to my surprise I found that the more I walked the more towards the core area I was heading. The glances of the sluts changed to mouthing me their rates and sleazy offers for cheap sex. With my wallet stashed with cash, a newly upgraded system and a costly wrist-watch, I was good loot for the urchins there. In case anything went out-of-hands my shout for help would go unheeded with the police, stuffed with their cut money, nowhere to be seen.
My mind clouded with grey thoughts, heart beating the wind out of my lungs I walked on praying to the million Indian Gods and Goddesses. Suddenly one skinny man, with an orange-peel like face scarred with chicken pox marks, walked into my way and exclaimed “Babuji aapko khush kar denge, naach dekhna hai to der hazaar, puri raat ka paanch - boliye school girl, college girl, bhabiji - kya chahiye!” I was stunned, not knowing what to say. I did not even look at him - as if deaf I walked on leaving him behind.
I had barely taken two steps, that I heard one of the pimps telling the other “Is gore-chitte saab ka to hum free mein lenge”. I could feel I was shaking - may be out of fear, may be out of anger, I do not know. Those glances, the crude smell of their perfume and my vulnerability, all combined was nauseating. Just then I could hear an approaching car. I turned back to find a cab coming my way, looking for passengers. My prayers were answered - I frantically waved at it and yelled “Taxi!” at the top of my voice. The taxi stopped, I opened the door and almost leapt inside slamming the door behind me. The cabby, an aged Sikh driver, was no less than an angel rescuing me from the lanes of hell.
In the cab, it took me some time to settle down, after which I lit a cigarette and reflected on my predicament. I found that we the people from ‘good society’ are the root cause behind the mushrooming of sex industry. Be whatever the reason, dissatisfied men turn to brothels for sex, with a hope that their upright image in the society would not get tarnished. This in turn encourages sex workers, providing them with an easy way to fast money.
Looking back at the golden ages, when men were chaste and women virgins before marriage - free from sexually transmitted diseases the society was healthy, sex was considered to be a physical expression of love, Jove was busy with his golden darts. Prostitution has spoiled it all, pimps play Jove, sex is money – the more you are ready to shell-out the better whores you get. Pleasure is an industry and sin is now a city called Las Vegas!
It seems like you are a frequent visitor to the place......God save you and your family if you have one and if you dont then please do not spoil somebody's life!!
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