Letter from an Unknown Escort !

Smell of first rains came from the air. There was hustle bustle all around the city. Monsoons have finally arrived. Children were playing football in the first rains of the monsoon, Tea Stall Owner who sits near the bus station was suddenly the most wanted person in the area.
BEST buses covered were the posters of Sunny Leone's JISM ran packed, Thanks to the unpredictable Mumbai rains.

I kept looking outside the window. My Life will never be the same again.
I am 32 and hail to a small village 20 kms. away from Jaipur district. Never even in my wildest dreams i had thought that i would travel to Mumbai. For a small town girl like me even going to a nearby small theater which was not even one km away from my village was one big thing and here i was staying alone in the big bad city of Mumbai.

I came here in search of love and in search of hope to live my life as widely as i can. I went where the winds took me. Fell In Love, Ran away from Home and landed up in the city of extremes.I had an open heart which wanted to love and an an open mind which was ready to accept the changes.
He painted a picture of Mumbai in my mind which was very far from reality. I realized this much later.

Things change, Time change but My Life never changed. In fact it has taken a turn for the worse.
Ten years have passed by. Mumbai has taught me how to wear a mask and be comfortable in a crowd.I work as an escort and work part time for a private agency. Today I have everything what i wanted from life.  A posh flat in suburbs, car, lots of admirers who refuse to acknowledge me in public .But the peace of mind is still missing. Wish there was a sanctuary for the emotionally abused where all wounds could be healed.


I don't have anyone besides me, someone whom i can rely on someone whom i can trust. Its awfully hard to find a relationship while being an escort. Its takes someone very rare to cope with the realities of a girlfriend sleeping with random people every second night.
In our business there is always a big risk of getting infected Sexually. transmitted infections are a a big concern.
Knowing all this still i get up every evening, wear makeup and sit next to my cellphone waiting for my next client call.

I am a person who is looked down upon, Society is allergic to us and denies our existence. I am sick of ungracious,spiteful,envenomed socialites who treat us like a  cancer to the society.
I am a product of an institute which was built by the society itself thousands of years ago.


But why am i writing all this. That Poster on the BEST bus caught my attention.
Half naked Sunny Leone moans are patronized but no one hears to our cries. Come Friday and all the Moral Vigilantes would be seen in a dark theater  munching popcorn , sipping cola and enjoying curves of Miss Leone.

Decaying society's double standards are clearly evident. The standards which are self-defeating,contradictory and incoherent. When i was small I also wanted to be an actress. But today after knowing the profession i am in seriously doubt weather my resume is good enough for Mahesh Bhatt and company. Society still hasn’t grown out of its stereotypes.

I am not apologetic about what i do, I am a social servant...but its high time now...Time to accept us...Time to shed our hypocrisy.

Regards,
Unknown Mumbai Escort

Her destiny was never hers to make !!!

I clearly remember my first day. The journey from Andheri to Grant Road in some taxi with a few friends. I was dressed in a simple Blue Jeans and Black Tshirt. My aim was to look modest without calling too much attention to myself. In my hand I clutched the address of the area I was about  to visit. I also kept feeling for my cell phone in my bag, my only sense of security. Finally we were there.


I was astounded, and horrified, would be the least to say. I saw a narrow street with wooden rotting structures on either side. On the doorways of these houses stood women of all ages garishly painted and in different states of undress. I saw men walking up and down the street looking at these women as if they were wares on display. Some women talked and laughed loudly, some beckoned the men who went by, while some just stood there stone faced. I went by a cinema hall which had some porno movie playing by the look of the posters. While I gawked foolishly at the men standing near the theatre someone grinned lecherously, saying something which fortunately I could not hear. But by now I was beginning to feel the stirrings of fear. 
A feeling of sympathy mixed with fear came in my mind. I saw girls of all ages of all shapes n sizes looking for a opportunity to grab your attention. They say love comes in all shapes and sizes. but it was only Love that was missing here.
small childrens were running here and there. Mens in dirty lungis and jeans in some corners playing cards n chewing tobacco looked at us devilishly.


Rotten filty smell was comin from everywhere. Spent half an hour there had a few talks with so called prostitutes.
Thus ended my first day. I went back to the safety and comfort of my home bewildered, and confused. The only thing I was certain about was that I was very wrong in thinking I am not needed here. I still didn't know what I could do. But I knew, do something I must....well that is a beginning right?
It was then that i decided to write down every single bit of what i saw and bring this human trafficking in front of everyone through my blog. 


Lets examine how most of  girls ended up in the red light area. 
1. N was a happy 10 yrs. old living in some remote impoverished village in Nepal.She has 5 more siblings. One probably suffering from TB. If they are lucky they eat twice a day. She used to go to a village school, but had to stop because of a paucity of funds. Days of going without food and the worsening condition of her brother who is afflicted with TB, forces her parents to sell her to a lady who promises to get her employment as a worker in a carpet factory in Kathmandu or as a domestic help in Mumbai. She travels by foot, bus and finally train to Mumbai. And is sold into a brothel for Rs 10000.
2. B is a 17 yr old from a village in Andhra Pradesh. Her father, a cotton farmer committed suicide because of increasing debt and falling revenues. There are 5 mouths to feed. So our brave young B decides to go to Mumbai to some acquaintance who could get her a job. She is illiterate and is travelling outside her village for the first time. She meets a friendly woman in the train just before arriving in Mumbai who looks at the address and tells her she lives in the same neighborhood and offers to take her there. She is brought to Kamathipura and sold.
3. D fell in love and decided to elope with her lover. The lover promises her marriage. She runs away to Mumbai with him, dreaming about marriage and domestic bliss. She is brought to Kamathipura and is sold and she never sees her lover again.
4. P gets into prostitution because her mother is a prostitute. She knows no other life. She was born in the brothels. We call this inter-generational prostitution.
5. M remembers going to the village fair somewhere in Jharkhand with her family. The next thing she knows she is drugged, thrown into a sack, and then dumped onto the back of a truck. She is brought to Mumbai. She is sold and since she is only 8 yrs old, she fetches a really good price.6.There was a particular peculiar arrangement that I saw in Grant Road. That of Bangladeshi WIP. They were living in the brothels with their families , husbands included. I found out that these women would service clients in the night, while their husband played cards in one of the many eating places nearby. During the daytime the women would sleep and the husbands would cook and look after the children. The would stay in Mumbai for 6 to 8 months, make enough money to go back to their villages. They would be back in Mumbai with their wives, and sisters,once they ran out of all their savings. Well I know the woman had no say in this arrangement and this was not a result of mutual consent.
7.L was a devdasi in a village in Karnataka. When the priests of the temple tire of her, she is sold to a Mumbai brothel. This consort of the Gods is no luckier than the others. 
Could they not run away from the brothels?
When she arrives at the brothel she refuses to obey the gharwali. She is locked up in a small room.Starved, beaten, tortured. This continues for days. If she refuses to give in, she is finally drugged and repeatedly raped. She is raped by more than 5 men in one night. Virginity is much in demand. After months of this torture she gives in and is moved to a room in the brothel. She cannot read or write.She does not understand the language. She is not allowed to leave the brothel. Gharwali has goons to watch over her. Crushed chillies being rubbed onto her private parts is one of the many threats she hears day and night.As a girl told me she spent her first year begging every man she was forced to sleep with to help her escape. One of her regular customers was a policeman.
By the second year the girl is battered, and diseased. Her spirit is irreversibly crushed and she is ashamed and afraid to go back to her village for now she is 'dirty'. Some part of her still hopes to go back one day and resolves to do whatever it will take. Which is paying back the money the gharwali paid to buy her. This is not easy to do. She gets only Rs. 50 per customer. She also has to pay for her lodging, food, clothes and medicines. Add to this the interest on the principal amount, freedom is one distant dream. I never heard of any happy endings.
Some brave and lucky ones did manage to escape thanks to the occasional police raids. But the happiness is short lived. Once her family back in the village realizes where she has been she is beaten, disowned and thrown out. She returns to the only thing she knows.

Her destiny was never hers to make.