Whisky, Women and World

Chapter 9

Simran gracefully wrapped her saree, ensuring its flawless drape. To assess the precision of the pressing, she wielded a small mirror across her body like a scanner, making meticulous adjustments wherever necessary. Her living quarters, a cramped space shared with Lekha, comprised a bed, a floor mat where Simran slept, and a stool for storing their meager possessions. The rest of their clothes hung in the lobby, and using the restroom meant enduring a queue, as the mansion featured a single common toilet on each floor.

Once satisfied with her saree, Simran applied thick red nail polish, one of her weekly routines to ward off boredom. She urged Lekha to embrace some color, but Lekha, uninterested, remarked that adding makeup would only attract unwanted attention rather she wished to scrape off the remaining beauty. Undeterred, Simran insisted, eventually persuading Lekha to spread her fingers for a touch of nail art resembling a dark sky with tiny stars on her index finger. She applied a base layer of black and then delicately adorned it with silver polka dots. As Simran continued her beauty regimen, she casually brought up the gift she had mentioned the day before. Lekha's initially dull expression blossomed into childlike excitement, eagerly nodding in anticipation. Before she could articulate her joy, the room's door swung open uninvited, revealing a man who instilled fear in Lekha. Known as Ducky, he was a menacing figure within the mansion, a pimp on the outside but a source of terror within its walls. Ducky's peculiar walk and rubbery lips earned him his nickname, and a thin scar around his neck added a scary touch. Despite his fearsome reputation, Simran, aware of how others treated him, paid no attention to his appearance. The only occasion Lekha witnessed a softer side of Ducky was during his phone conversations with the mysterious figure presumed to be the head of their prostitution network.

When he abruptly snapped at Simran and gestured for her to leave, she nonchalantly claimed the need to finish her nail polish, asserting she had two more fingers to attend to. Simran was fully aware of the disdain he faced outside the mansion. People and cops treated him ill, showing no respect for the man. Ducky would bow meekly every time he stepped out of the mansion, seemingly impervious to the mockery. Simran once bore witness to a disturbing incident where he endured a beating from his own wife and son, wielding a cooker and a wooden spatula.

Ducky scowled, and she, in frustration, stuffed her tiny purse into her blouse and left, claiming she was heading out to buy dinner. Left alone with Lekha, Ducky leaned against the wall, his sinister smile reveling in the fear he could instill in young girls.

"I've heard whispers that you mistreat your clients. Tell me, dear, is there truth to what reaches my ears?" Ducky's arms enveloped his chest, his voice adopting a soft, almost gentle tone. It was a tone reserved for his girls, one that instilled fear, making them reluctant to respond.

Lekha lowered her chin, shivered and remained silent.

"So, I presume it's true. Hmmm... Do I treat you badly? Do I harm you? I am true to the Almighty who is above all of us, and I treat you girls with love and respect. I provide you a place to stay, well-cooked food to eat. How can you betray me, dear?"

"He forced me. I had no choice but to let go of him," Lekha tried to hold back her tears, but she was failing miserably.

Ducky knelt in front of her, gently taking hold of her hands. Lekha desperately wished for him to release her, yet her heartbeat quickened as he drew nearer.

"No man has the guts to mistreat my girls. I'm here to take care of those bastards and look after you all. There's no need to cry, dear. But remember, only I can make sense to them, not you. It saddens me when you make such tough decisions once you step into that room. I am very, very sad. You wouldn't want to make me sad, would you?"

Lekha shook her head unsteadily. Ducky retrieved a kerchief from his pocket, gently lifting her chin and meticulously wiping away the smeared mascara with utmost care.