Story of Sathya

Dreams and Destiny – Strangers in the Night

Note – Dreams and Destiny – Strangers is the Night is a work of Fiction!!
Dreams and Destiny

The watch displayed 8.25 PM as I strolled through the eerie dark roads of Kolkata. I was heading for Sonagachi, the prostitute-clogged red light district. Sonagachi, a place known for many wrong reasons, is said to shelter over 10,000 men and women. As I tread through the red light district, I observed multi-storied buildings where women glanced out from their balconies. As I defiantly walked, I watched many babus and women inviting me. I attended a dapper man conversing with a sex worker. I came across many young jaunty college students dawdling around doing nothing. I saw many semi-clad girls in their early 20s standing outside their apartments, luring their customers. As I aimlessly wandered around the red light district of North Kolkata, someone tapped my back from behind. I looked behind at the sight of a fat, stout woman in her late fifties.

“Babu, are you new to this place?” She said, exhibiting her tobacco-stained teeth.

‘Yes, I am,”

“Where are you from, Babu?” she said.

“Kanpur,” I cleared my throat and continued, “Don’t address me as a Babu. It sounds like a Pimp”.

“As you say, Sir. Want to see the beautiful side of this dark place,” she sheepishly smiled at me.

‘Yes, I am,”

“I want to explore this place and its beauty before I leave this city of Joy,” I winked at her.

I was amazed at the way she impressed me. She was old, but she looked gorgeous. She had her beauty intact. I followed her to the apartment where she took me. The girls greeted her and smiled at her. “Namashkar Didi…,” A few said as we walked. Few of those girls smiled at me as I followed her. She amiably chatted with me and was trying to befriend me. My intentions were clear enough when I stepped into the red light district. I saw the faded paint on the walls as I entered the apartment. I could smell the dirty fragrance of semen as I climbed up the stairs.

“Room num 223,” The fat woman smiled at me.

“A pretty Bengali damsel waiting for you…trust me, you would love her…,” she added.

“Thanks ….by the way, what’s your name?” I asked the woman.

“Paloma Dash,” she said and left. I headed for room number 223. I had never paid for sex before. Sex is something that gives bread and butter to these girls. Thousands of men visit this place every day to fulfill their desire. Life is like a jigsaw puzzle. Strange things keep happening around, and we can’t find ways to eliminate them. It is a vicious circle. I knocked on the door. 

A gorgeous girl with a slender body wearing a saree opened the door. “Namashkar Babu,” She greeted me and invited me in. I looked around as men entered the other room. I entered the room and sat on the bed. It was a tiny little room with a double bed. She closed the door and sat next to me. She was wearing a maroon color saree.

She unhooked her blouse as I helplessly observed her.

“Please do it slowly as it will hurt me, OK?” She smiled at me as she was completely undressed. I witnessed innocence as she spoke.

“What is your name?” I asked her.

“Anamika,” she smiled at me. 

Taken from Google Images

As she sat next to me, I admired her beauty, and at the same time, I cursed her plight. She was tall and slim with a perfect body. Her hair was neatly braided with a middle partition. She had a round face with smooth milky skin. Her eyes were so mysterious and profound that one could be lost in the bright daylight. Those thick lashes hid the eternal universe behind. Her lips were as red as the blood of the martyrs. The arched brows could attack and wound hearts. Her nose was tiny but looked cute. I looked at her rosy cheeks and the dark mole beneath her lips that adorned her beauty. The black mole made her look more beautiful and appealing, adding to her radiant smile. I seemed to have been lost at the sight of her moles which looked magnificent. It aroused a new interest in me. Her innocence paced up my heartbeats. I witnessed her full large breasts, round and full of energy. She lay utterly naked, facing me. I looked straight into her eyes which attracted me and spoke innocence. My heart could not accept her in this state. How could a beautiful woman like her indulge in such activities? This perturbed me. She had a smiling face, and she smiled at me.

“You know what…,” she smiled once again. “What?” I asked.

“You are a handsome man, and you are that pearl in the ocean which every girl would die for,” she asserted.

“Ahh.Thanks, Anamika. Perhaps I take it as a compliment. Life is mysterious,” I replied. I ran my fingers wildly through her nape and caressed her cheeks. She unbraided her hair, and I could feel her charcoal dark hair as I walked closer. We both looked at each other for a moment. My glance was interrupted as she came nearer to me. Our lips locked. I felt a sudden gush of blood in my veins as our lips touched. Her bare bosoms touched my chest as we passionately kissed each other for 10 minutes.

Story of Sathya

“You certainly know how to seduce a man,” I laughed.

“Unfortunately… that’s what I have been doing all these days to different men. Doing something against my wish, dreams, and destiny,” her smile disappeared for a moment. “Why? Why do you sound so low, Anamika?” I questioned her.

“I am not destined to be here. I have dreams that won’t materialize,” she replied.

“Dream and Destiny look like two different things to me. I have been trying to chase my dreams, dreams which behold my destiny. But, that’s far away, which I could only dream of,” I said.

“You are wrong. Dreams and destiny are not parallel roads. Destiny embodies our dreams. It’s just that we tend to demarcate them by our actions. But Alas, I got no rights to talk about dreams and destiny till I am in this filth,” she added.

“If only dreams come true, I would have been a famous person in this country. Instead, I feel like a bird whose wings are cropped, which prevents me from flying high. My heart is heavy, filled with melancholy,” she continued.

Every word she spoke touched my heart to some extent. I looked at her beautiful eyes every time she uttered a word. Her eyes turned moist and filled with tears. Finally, a teardrop rolled down her cheeks, and she started sobbing.

“I am a garbage bin where men come to dump their tensions and sorrows and seek pleasure in return,” she cried. 

“You might feel good for you have told me everything that bothers you. So tell me,” I said.

“Tell you what….,” she said as she covered her bare body with the blanket.

“Tell me something interesting about you which will amuse me,” I smiled at her.

“Boring that I am. I don’t know what to tell you which will amuse you. You puzzle me, and I think of myself as an enigma for a moment. I do not have anything to tell about myself. Yet, people find my body interesting for which they pay to fulfill their desire.” 

“I asked something interesting about you, I guess,” I said, looking at her eyes.

“Nothing is interesting about me yet for those who want to know me; my entire being has universes to be discovered. There are mysteries in my heart, wound, and pleasures. There are dreams in my eyes, desires, and curiosity. Know my soul – passion and love lie in divinity. Know my soul, and you will know me,” she continued.

There was complete silence for a moment. She seemed to me like an intelligent girl. Her replies amazed me.  

“How did you land in this place?” I asked her.

“If only I were an insane woman, I’d loved to be here. Sadly, I was born and brought up in this filth. My mother was caught in this mysterious world of sex when she was young. Paloma didi met her and gave her shelter. Many men knocked on her door to quench their thirst. Mother pleased them, and she became pregnant. I was born. I fail to know my existence for my mother slept with many men, and for me, she was mother and father,”  

My eyes remained glued to hers as she narrated her story. Then, finally, she got up in a jiffy and hastily dressed. She wore her blouse and draped her maroon-colored saree. She neatly combed her hair and wore her ornaments.

“I don’t regret coming here. Had I not come, I would have failed to discover a storm within you. Your eyes enclose the mysteries that hurt me. It hurts to see a beautiful flower in a puddle of mud. You don’t deserve to be in this dirt,” I said straight-faced.

“Thanks for your kind words. It doesn’t hurt me now. I am used to this life. You haven’t done anything for the money you have spent on me,” she smiled. I smiled back at her when she said that.  

“I am leaving now, and I leave with the hope that I will meet you very soon. Thanks for the night Anamika,” I said.

She smiled and said, “The feeling is mutual. I, too, hope that we meet soon.”

 She bid me goodbye as I left. As I left, I looked at her, waving bye to me. I then realized that my heart would never be the same, for I discovered her plight after talking to her. I could feel an urge to take her with me, but I wanted to prove her wrong that destiny and dreams are not parallel roads. So I left my heart with her, but I was happy to meet the girl who was born and brought up in a brothel.

My intentions were different when I stepped inside the tiny room, and as I left, I realized I had met a wonderful person. We were both strangers in the night, but we were good friends as I left the room. My book was not a fictional encounter of a sex worker who gave birth to a beautiful girl who grew up to be a prostitute. So many such Anamika’s in this country are caught in this mysterious web of the sex world, but we can never realize the pain in their hearts. My book – ‘Born & brought up in a brothel’ was the story of a beautiful girl called Anamika, whom I met in a brothel in Sonagachi, Kolkata.

The Solitary Writer
Step right up, it's Ste's show! Join me on my writing journey where I dish out witty tales, thought-provoking poems, and quirky musings on life. I'm a social justice warrior who sneaks in some humor wherever I can. Book, movie, and cultural critiques included. Buckle up, it's gonna be a wild ride!