The frequency of writing has been woeful. But now with the pesky exams outta the way :P, hopefully I can change that. Here's a story I wrote recently. Felt very nice to write this one. Hope ya'll like it and can understand what I'm trying to convey. It wasn't easy writing this one.
Business was good. I was in the one profession that did not
know recession, that never had a slack in demand. As long as little boys would
need a place to lose their innocence, perverted youths would need a practicing
ground, and married men would need their demands satisfied, our business would
run. As long as the male animal’s veins would run with unending lust, our
impartial trade would have its arms open to all. I always marvel at how, no
matter how much they are given, men always come back for more.
There are the first timers, full of excitement but equally
nervous. They need to be guided around, and they don’t get a hang of things
until the first few times. You want to make sure though, that their ignorance does
not cost you. On the other end there are the married adulterers. All the
experience of marriage combined with its frustrations, so they know what to do
and want it real bad. Their first digression from their wives always has them
being very furtive and guilty about it. But I’ve seen that flame of guilt in
their eyes reduce slowly over time, as their marriage dies over time. I see it
in their eyes when I’m staring at them as they’re over or under me. I stare so
I don’t have to think too much, for madness lies that way. I hate the fact that
somewhere I too am responsible for that, and I hate men for being this way. But
hey it’s a living.
Then there are the regulars and the deviants. They come back
for more, and ask for outlandish things to be done with them, demands getting more
twisted by the day. But essentially men are simple. There’s a very specific
button that you have to press and he will never return dissatisfied. I am even
on first name terms with a few of them, and know exactly what they like done. That
does not mean that I’ve built any kind of relation with them. No. Apart from a
couple of my colleagues, I have no friends, no family, and no ties with this
world. My emotions are non-existent and my tears have dried up. You do what we
do, see society in its barest and most ruthless form for so long, and you
either have to shut off your mind and soul to all of it or risk losing them.
But then one night I met him.
Business was slow that day. It was Diwali and many were with
their families, their parents or their friends. A few of us had gone to the
temple, bought a new dress for ourselves, and tried to celebrate it as best we
could. I had bought myself a new book; I do that every year. Someday I wish to
educate myself enough to get out of all this. That day will never come I know.
But even a foolish wish costs you nothing. Or perhaps everything.
I was sitting by the side of the road, near the pan shop,
dragging on a cigarette. A saw a man approach me. He was of medium height and
build. An unremarkable face, except for eyes that seemed to gleam with
intelligence. He did not look like he belonged here. Nonetheless I got up and
walked towards him too.
‘How much?’ he asked me. He cringed right after saying that,
realizing how bad that had sounded. It was evident that he didn’t do this a
lot, but I didn’t mind what he said. He was sorry. Men have treated me worse
and have been unapologetic about it.
‘It’s hundred for the hour. Extra if you want things other
than the usual.’
He looked at me for a moment. ‘Is it?’ He asked. ‘All right,
one hour. Follow me, I have a place nearby.’
I walked five paces behind him as he guided me to his room.
Then, looking around to see who was watching, I entered. He followed right
after me. He closed the door and turned to face me.
‘All right then, let’s get started?’ I asked, reaching for
my hook.
‘Please sit down. I, uh, have something else to ask you.’ He
continued once I sat down. ‘How much would you charge me for the night?’
I got up instantly, alarmed. I’d had such an experience
before. Right then I had thought it was a deal I couldn't let go. Someone was
paying for an entire night, so there was assured income. But it had turned out
to be a nightmare as the man had done all sorts of things to me. That incident
gave me a first glimpse at the monsters that disguised themselves so well in
society.
I walked up to this man and asked him in a harsh tone. ‘Why
what’s the idea?’
He looked at me for a very long time, trying to gauge my
thoughts. In time he saw my alarm, he realized what kind of person I thought he
was. This seemed to hurt him, for he looked down, and when he looked up again,
there were tears in his eyes. I was surprised.
‘I don’t want to do anything with you. I will not harm you
in any way. I just needed company for the night. The loneliness is getting to
me.’ Tears flowed a little more freely from his eyes. ‘I know, it must seem
weird. You must be thinking, “Doesn’t he have a family, or friends? Why has he
come to me when he’s lonely?” Aren’t you?’
I nodded faintly, but said nothing.
‘My family has forsaken me. I am their prodigal child’, he
said, with a smile playing at his lips. ‘And sure, I know people and meet them
often, but I cannot call these people friends. People, who laugh at me behind
my back, people who judge me. I live by myself, and I have no complaints about
it. But sometimes I just get lonely. Tonight it got to me. I just wanted to be
with someone who wouldn’t judge. Who would just be. But your eyes just spoke
otherwise. I’m sorry. I’ll pay you for the hour, you can go.’
I got up slowly. My mind was in a tizzy. Never in the many
years that I had been doing this, had anyone ever come across this way. Of all
the men I’d met, few even bothered to ask my name, let alone talk about anything
other than what they wanted to do. I did not know how to respond to a man
seeking my companionship and nothing more. A man who looked at me as a person
and not a body. It was disconcerting. I did not know how I could not possibly
comfort him; my empathy and compassion had long been stifled to death. But I
decided to trust this man.
No comments:
Post a Comment