The Red Light Area

Preface: This true experience of a chance-visit to a Red Light Area and narration of the feelings and thoughts that ensued would have been justified only through a girl's eyes. Hence this blog is written impersonated as an imaginary girl - Tanya.

It was a cold winter evening, when Bhai and I took a BEST bus to Ghatkopar Station West. We departed at the last stop which was some distance away from where we wanted to go, and we decided to walk. We took a small unknown by-lane towards the direction of the station. There were some shabby and ill-maintained buildings in the dark area and I was wondering why the women standing outside were staring at us, as if we were aliens. And suddenly, Bhai drew me close and whispered in my ear, “Shit! Tanya, it’s a red light area!”

And then panic struck me. The ladies staring at us were prostitutes, and their staring now seemed justified. We were half way through and decided we continue as the station was in sight. There were some really young girls, maybe aged 15 or so, clad in flashy red skirts, white blouses and a lot of glittering make up. A couple of fat, aged women were smoking, what seemed like drugs and laughing loudly. When they saw me, they made such expressions that it seemed like they were undressing me through the eye. It made me freak out, and I clutched Bhai’s hand very hard. We started walking briskly, almost running, when a drunk man came out of a dark corner and started making advances towards us. He stopped, however, as Bhai took me to his right side, away from the man. I started perspiring. I wanted to run. The five minutes seemed like eternity…

When we reached the station, I simply broke down crying. I felt horrible, as if I was naked, as if someone had raped me in public. After a long time and a lot of consoling, I gathered my senses as we started walking towards our destination. And as we walked, I just thought how a prostitute’s life would be.

I do not believe any woman opts going into prostitution willingly. Reasons like financial distress, birth in a family somewhat related to such an atmosphere, or forced prostitution seem more legitimate. Young girls are kidnapped from places all across India, and ‘sold off’ to pimps in such places. When born in an illiterate family facing economic hardships and situated in the proximity of such places, there are chances of landing up there. But then as we walked, I came across a porn CD seller, selling a Sunny Leone CD. Would she have also faced the reasons to join pornography as I liked to believe?

Ask any prostitute, I believe she will say she dreams of getting married and settling down in a small house, have kids and leave prostitution, if given a choice. No prostitute will want her daughter to follow her in her business. They see their world as a trap and wish to break free, if there are chances. But how? And do what? Will working as a maid from house to house help her earn as much? Will she opt being a beggar or sell toys and balloons at traffic signals, earning less, but live respectfully? As we crossed a signal, a small girl pulled my hand and signaled for alms by hand gestures. And almost unconsciously, ignoring all of Bhai’s scolding, I removed a five hundred rupee note and gave her- it might save her from prostitution.

I cannot imagine how someone can surrender her body to an unknown man, whom she has never met, even for money’s sake. Risking your body, health and possibly life to dangerous STDs acquired from such encounters, being subject to insult and fearing being pregnant to a child from an unknown customer – is the fee worth it? However, for one reason, it is – it avoids the potential rapist with some cash in his wallet. All he has to do, is spend some of it, rather than rape an innocent.

And then it dawned upon me how lucky I was, merely to take birth in the family I had – something that had no reason, nothing done to deserve it. Would I be what I am, if things had been different? And how many of those girls would do wonders to the world, had they been in my place? “You’ve been very quiet, Tanu. You all right? What are you thinking?” asked Bhai while he put his jacket on me as it grew colder. I was thinking that while I gain the comfort of the jacket’s warmth, some young girl would be stripped off her clothes at this very moment at the red light area, for no great fault of hers.