This first person account of a prostitute depicts and unravels the onerous journey of a harlot from becoming a devdasi to reforming into a survivor, conquering the tribulation in her life in a daunting manner. This narrative portrays the life of a h...
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That day, a young man came to our house. He had a bronzed body with semi curly hair and a sturdy physique. His eyes were big enough to to absorb me within him. His contour held a military moustache and a cunning smile which ruffled my feathers. He had worn a red faded shirt which had some of its buttons opened and exposed his chest hairs.
The client had worn a full length white dickey below his shirt which was quite in contrast to the golden chain which adorned his neck. He stared me from top to bottom and perturbed me with his contemptible expressions. My apprehension knew that I needed to exhibit my body again. I was grief-stricken and febrile. I belonged to a very poor family which needed financial support and being the man of the house now, I was responsible to bring the source.
As I was a Devdasi now, he approached to support my family with money and groceries in return of my body every night. My elders except my mother happily agreed. Though my body and my soul complained but I had to sleep with the man that night. Though he was married, he wasn't ashamed of desiring sexual pleasure from me. I felt very suppressed. Though it was my second time and my mind convinced itself but my soul wasn't willing.
But the obnoxious fellow forced himself into me. It pained more .I started bleeding and was in extreme pain. Though he could see the red stained bed sheet but he didn't stop having sex with me. I cried and the salty water of my eyes reached my mouth. As my tongue tasted it, my heart felt more agonised. I tried to push him aside but he was too strong to be dealt with. I felt strangulated and traumatized. But the black buck kept raping me inhumanly.
Next morning I had to be treated with injection, still my grandma did not care to sympathise with me. She contrived me to sleep with him in each hour of darkness. He was my 'maalik' now and I was to obey him as he fed my family. Even if my dress was torn by him, I was to accept that, if he asked me to press his legs or provide him with oil massage, I was to do that.
One night, during the due course, when he felt tired, he made me sleep on his hairy chest which seemed black because of the curly hairs and also white in between because of the talcum powder which he had applied. On seeing that I felt nauseatic.
I tried to hold my breath so as not to inhale the pungent smell of sweaty body. As soon as he realized that I behaved odd, he bit me on my nipples by laying me below him. I screamed out of sudden pain but he didn't care. He continued to pester me until the bright sunrays stealthily peeped through the violet curtains which made the ambience even more sickening.
Few days passed. I was still not accustomed with the practise. Every morning I woke up with desolation and vexation. Though I was a young girl, I was into depression. After experiencing so much of pain, my life had turned into a cramped hole. I had no hopes and aspirations from my devastated future.
One day the maalik came and told that he had found another girl and thus had decided to resign from supporting my family. My grandma was distressed. She and my father kept plotting ideas to earn more money through me. Within twelve hours both had found another customer and sold me to him for an advance of fifteen thousand rupees.
This meant that now I would be away from my family, maybe hundred miles or even thousand miles. I was oblivious of my future where abouts. I felt shattered and was singing the blues. I had endured extreme agony and as a matter of fact,now I would be snatched from my mother, my only aid in the times of difficulty.
Though she couldn't save me but had always fostered me with her ardency. I would miss her affection and her care. Till now I was secure in my house, but now I would be away from my haven and my mother. I was apprehensive that I won't be able to see my Amma again so I spent the last few hours with her and in her warm wrap.my petite visage rested on her lap adorned with a green bandhni saree( a type of Indian saree).
I spent my each minute on tenterhooks, feeling my unusually fast heartbeats and rubbing my crying red eyes. Time flew and I suddenly woke up from my mother's lap to realise that grandmother was calling my name. I felt scared by her tone. when I didn't answer her calls, she came to our courtyard and pulled me up from the faded carpet on which I and my mother sat.
Then she hauled and took me to the living room. I saw my father exchanging words with a man very politely. The man had worn a greyish black shirt and a black trouser. He was tall and fair unlike south indian men and had a muscular physique. The buyer was bug eyed and had thick beard instead of moustache.
As soon as he saw me, he got up and was ready for departure. my mother was instructed to bring my suitcase, which was cadet blue coloured and ironically larger than me in size. I realized that all my belongings had been packed and was neither welcomed nor expected to come over again.
My mother came towards me and hugged me for the last time. Tears welled up our eyes as we were seeing each other for the last time.Then I was snatched from the warmth of my mother to start a dreadful journey with substantial insecurity in my heart.
