The Plight of Unknown
There I was minding my own business in the deep sleep and enjoying the slumber party.
Warm and soundproof in the womb of my mother with occasional sounds of torment.
I was unaware of who I was. After all not being born was a gift that I realize now.
Nine months in the womb of my mother, I never knew if I was a girl or a boy and where and to whom will I be a pampered baby. I wish I know then!
All of a sudden I was being pulled out with treacherous sounds of a woman. Back then I guess I felt nothing. Not surprising though.
The room was lit with changing lights and looked so clogged up.
Finally I was born with lots of hope for my future.
Suddenly I was being taken away by a strong pair of hands. I passed a dark dungeon and into a dimly lit room. It was all new for me. I was put on a steel bed. My body twitched on contact with the cold surface.
Someone nearby came close to me. Stains of nicotine on his disfigured teeth and with a heavy smell of recently put out cigarette, he smirked and said in a hoarse voice “Girl it is“
Slowly I grew up but my childhood was different from rest of the girls. Or at least I imagine so!
I have heard of children go to schools and make friends. Play sing and dance. Enjoy every moment of their lives being pampered and nurtured by their only hope, their parents.
Don’t worry. I was happy that my mother after a tiresome day of work used to sit by my side and comb my hair. She used to ask, how my day was.
I used to sit by her side telling her stories about my dance and music training and other girls who were there with me. I used to complain her of the teacher we had. He was very rude and used to hurt us if we were not doing something with perfection.
While I used to say my story, I sometimes found her sleeping with the still lit cigarette dangling limply from her lips. Sometimes I used to call her and sometimes I removed it myself and slept in her lap.
Slowly I grew up and became a teenager. My mother was old and suffering from cancer. We never had enough money. We couldn’t afford her a proper treatment. Her employer was not taking care as well though I had approached him many times for help.
I didn’t like him. The way he used to see me was horrific. I felt like he was raping me with his eyes.
Then one fine morning the inevitable happened. She passed away and her last words were “Run away sweetheart”
I guess it was too later by then. She always used to say me that I don’t have to be as unlucky as she is. I can do whatever I want with my life. All I could do was hug her and say “I am scared mom”
2 men came the next day after funeral and took me with them. They said that I was being offered my mother’s job and should work here till I have covered all the debts.
I always thought that I wouldn't be used like my mother. I thought I would be allowed to go and lead my own life my way. I was mistaken.
They dragged me into the same profession my mother was into. I begged for mercy. I tried to run away but I was already being prepared for the show. New face in this hungry market was their biggest dream.
They had trained me as a dancer and singer and now were my turn to use it to feed those scumbags…
Now I am 23 and already have been raped and plundered of everything I possess dear countless times. For me that is the definition of society.
Even though I have suffered so much, I still sometimes look towards the sunrise and hope that someday may be some decent person will take me away from here forever.
What was my fault that I was born here in a so called Red Light Area? Was it my fault that I never got to see other children grow up to become successful doctors and engineers? Was it my fault that I was raped when I was just 17? Was it my fault that a person may be as old as a father would be tied me up and beat me up and raped me whole night?
Yes the world calls me a prostitute, a whore, a slut but the so called gentlemen of this society comes to warm their bed in the dead of night, not caring I am someone’s daughter too.
We talk about protecting the society and we talk about humanity. I wonder who will come to my rescue someday and be human enough not to rape me.
Yes I am a prostitute but I have been forced to lead a life of shame and criticism. Every time I have to sleep with a stranger, I feel screams and tears of my soul. Every time, I am made to dance in front of drunken customers, I feel like running away and pray every day that I close my eyes for ever soon.
Can anyone tell me if this is my destiny or will there be someone brave enough to help us to lead a life with dignity and self-respect? I wish to ask why girls like us are not the responsibility of any government or human being.
Look around and you will find a lot of girls who are sharing the same dead end fate like me with a hope that someday the society will change and they will not be forced to surrender their body in front of hungry loathsome and so called gentlemen of the society…
Hello Friends
I also want to make Artworks to be sold to the potential buyers.. Lets see where this road takes me
Have Fun
Devious Journal Entry
Need them badly.
Devious Journal Entry
And The clock starts ticking Now
I DONT KNOW HOW I SPENT THIS TIME AWAY FROM MY PC AND HOME .
I HAVE GOT A GOOD JOB IN MY OWN TOWN NOW.
SO I WILL BE REGULAR OVER HERE