She’s a prostitute, man! A prostitute!” Aditya shouted at me.
I was pretty dumbfounded.
You see, when one of your friends comes up and tells you that the girl you have been falling in love with, bit-by-bit, for the last few months, is “one of those”, you too are bound to get shocked!
“Are you sure, Adi?” I mumbled; “There might have been a mistake.”
“I have done the full background check, bro! She’s a ‘high-society’ one, I will give you that; but you can be surer than ever, that she’s a hoe.”
“So, that means she is better than the ordinary ones?” I bummered out.
“If you care about the fu*k? YES! Her services are probably better; and restricted to the wealthy businessmen, and the spoilt sons of those as**ole ministers”, he smirked; “her rates are, probably, also much higher; but, at the end, it’s all the same, man. They are all whores! They bloody fu*k for money!”
I let all his tones and mannerisms go by, and sank into the beanbag. I was not sure what to do; besides, it was already time for Divya to come to my place for dinner. Actually, I wasn’t sure why she wasn’t already there. She was, generally, always on time.
“Adi, can we talk about this later? It’s already time for her to come; and I would like to avoid anything remotely awkward right now.”
The bas*ard was, however, busy in slushing my precious Johnny Walker Black, which had been hidden in the cupboard.
Chugging down the remnants in the glass, and having thumped it down on the table, he started for the door.
“Dump her as soon as you can, man”, the alcohol in him advised me; “and get a nice, homely girl to fu*k!”
You see, to him, it had ALWAYS been about the fu*k!
And then, we looked at the door. Yeah, you guessed it right. There she was, at the door(which, Mr. Aditya, being the great carefree persona he was, had left open); but, unlike the actresses in Bollywood films, she had no tears in her eyes;
instead, there was only a fixed, blank, distant gaze; which pierced through our bodily layers of skin and flesh; and found the dark, gloomy, unsober heart within.
Aditya, pretty much frightened of the sight before him, brushed past the door; and jumped down the stairs as fast as his feet could probably take him. (Yeah, he had ALWAYS been a coward at heart!) But, she just stood there; and knowing that she had probably heard all there was to hear, I stood there too, unable to meet her eyes.
And then, she turned around and walked out.
Well, I could have gone after her right then, and tried to persuade her; but, the look in her eyes just moments ago had told me that it would be of no avail. The other, and more justified reason, of course, was that I myself didn’t know what I wanted to do. It’s ironic to me, you know, how as soon as the middle-class commoner hears about a dignified sex worker, he starts picturing (and perhaps even, fantasizing) about the worst side of her.
It was the same with me. The greater part of me still wanted to love her just I did till before that evening, to go after her; but it’s ALWAYS the smaller part of your heart that creates all the problems! So, instead of doing what I should have done, I walked to the window, and saw her stopping a taxi with wild gestures. And then, just for a fraction of a second, as she flung open the door, I saw her looking up at me; and I swear I could see tears glistening in her eyes.
A few seconds later, the taxi had sped away along the busy, frantic evening roads of Delhi. And that took me four months back, to the first time I saw Divya; and instantly, there was a sad smile on my face.
“You’re very persuasive, Mr. Rajeev; I would have to give you that”, she smiled at me, “Men don’t generally handle rejections too well; but here you are, turned down twice in the same night, by the same girl; back for more!”
“Well, work in my company a week, and they will make you the best as*-kissers in town!”
“Ha! Ha! Okay, but I don’t understand; there are so many gorgeous girls here; why are you so dead set on me?”
“Well, I like to reach out for the very best; and that should answer your question.”
“Ooooh… flattery?” she giggled.
“Come on Divya, it’s clear that you don’t dislike me; go out with me, just this once. I promise you won’t feel let down.”
“I don’t know, you know. I was beginning to like this act of yours”, she replied with a smirk.
“Please! I have already made a good enough ass of myself tonight! My friends are laughing their butts off at me.”
“Oh okay okay, here’s my number. Give me a call”, she stopped and smiled, “But promise that you won’t fall in love with me.”
“What is this, A Walk to Remember?” it was my turn to laugh out.
“You’re pretty funny! I would be waiting for that call. Bye…”
And that was how I won my first date with Divya. We were at the annual office gala, organized once every year in Delhi by IBM, with whom i had been working for overthree years now. The very moment she had walked into the house, I had known that it was either her or nobody else that night. And there I was— an hour of persuasion, and two rejections later, with her number in my hand!
So, I called her a day later; and we went to The Garden Restaurant for our first dinner date. It was a beautiful night, and she had looked simply stunning. Dressed in an ocean green gown; she flashed just the right
amount of cleavage, with a somber but beautiful pearl pendant floating above it; and just a hint of glazed make up topping it off. Yeah, quite a few heads had turned! The night went pretty nice; the food was excellent; we saw a movie in
the nearby mall; and then I dropped her off.
As the days passed, our calls became more frequent, we started meeting on a regular basis; and in spite of her warning on the night of our very first meeting, I could find myself falling head over heels for her. The one and only glitch to me, however, was the fact that she never revealed herself too much, even to me. Though she would be very happy, wrapping her arm in mine, walking by me and listening to the long and boring talks I dished out about me and my personal life; she
would be pretty intent in changing the topic every time we neared hers.
Finally, on 3rd October- our fifth date, I decided to confess my feelings for her. (You see, I would have done it a lot earlier, but certain TV shows have taught me otherwise!)
I had the evening all planned out. Or so I thought! We had a light dinner at the Hyatt; and then we hit the clubs.I bribed the DJ to play The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra; and as the lights dimmed and the romance gripped us, the slow dance taking my hormones to a new tantalizing level, I whispered the three magical words into her ear.
She looked up, glassy eyed and all; and as she was about to coo something back, her phone rang!
Yeah, I know. Those bloody mobiles, right? So, we left the floor. I watched on, as she spoke animatedly.
“But I had the night off; you can’t do this to Me.”, she yelled.
“Okay, I’ll be there. Give me the stupid address.”
When I asked her why she had to leave, she mumbled something about some call-center, the job being very important, etc. etc.; she gave me a short kiss, and left.
And my great plans were undone.
And that’s when I realized I had to know more about her. So, I called up Aditya, one of my closest friends. You see, he worked with this security agency downtown, and I realized he would be the right man for the job. So, I gave her details to him, and asked him to get back to me with some information on her.
Of course, what happened after that is already known to us!
I tossed and turned in bed all night, unsure of what to do. But by the time morning came around, I had decided that I had to somehow get her back. One-by-one, I called her ten times within an hour; but, she didn’t pick up. So, I decided to go to her place instead; but, just as I dressed and proceeded to leave, my phone rang.
It was her.
You know, life has these situations, when, just a moment earlier, you think that you have figured out exactly what you need to say. And then, the call actually comes; or the person steps in front of you, and then you realize that all that preparation has gone out the window.
For me, it was one of those.
“Hi Divya”, I spoke slowly.
“Hi, Rajeev. I saw a lot of missed calls from you. Mind telling me why?” she answered with nonchalance, as if nothing had happened.
Why do you think I called, you fool?
“Listen Divya, I am really sorry for what happened last night. But please, I don’t want to do this over the phone. I was just on my way to your house…”
“No, Rajeev”, she cut me off, “Don’t come here right now. I… I… okay, I’ll meet you— I’ll meet you tomorrow night at eight, at your place.”
And then, we said goodbye, and cut the line.
It would probably be the last chance I would have with her. Damn! I would have to nail it. Guys, there ALWAYS comes a time in your life, when you regret not having learnt to cook from your mom. This was one of those.
For, shouted Romantic more than a nice, tasty homely candle-lit dinner. And what better way to win her back, but loads of Romance! All the Chinese and Italian food in the world couldn’t create an aura as such!
She arrived impeccably on time. Again. I had laid out the food, with candles and flowers all around; and we sat down for dinner.
We ate in complete silence; as I searched for words to make her more comfortable; and sure as hell, I couldn’t find any.
Awkward moment? You don’t say! Instead, I took away the dishes, poured out two handsome portions of wine (drunk men are always better talkers!), turned on the music; and as I handed her the glass, she looked up at me for the first time that evening.
Her glossy eyes did look beautiful. And then, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I’m sorry, baby. It’s just that I wasn’t getting to know anything about you, and I like you so much. I’m really sorry.” I blurted out.
She just looked up at me, and asked softly, “Why did you have to do that?”
And then she cried, cried, and cried some more. It felt as if with a hard tug, someone had thrown out the hard outer menagerie she had put up since that evening, and exposed the soft, vulnerable woman within. And at that moment, I realized how much I actually loved her. I hugged her close. She was still sobbing; and at that instant, I don’t
know what got into me, but I lifted her head, and kissed her, as passionately as I could. (Told you, wine can do wonders!)
She didn’t pull away either.
In fact, I could feel her giving it all back, as if she had also wanted the same. Or perhaps, she too, needed it. As our tongues entangled, we had already started undressing each other. I could feel the heat of lust rising through her heaving breasts; her sweet fragrance mesmerized me from head to toe, as she unzipped my pants; and I just couldn’t wait any longer for us to become one.
It was our first time.
Fifteen minutes later, we fell into the other’s arms, completely spent. I kissed her softly on the forehead as we lay there for a while.
“I need some more wine”, she draped a towel round her, and left with the glasses.
It was all coming back to normal,I smiled to myself. Ha! Couldn’t have been more wrong!
I took the glass; and with a long, hard sip, lowered the wine level to half. The last 48 hours had been pretty rough. And besides, men get very tired after sex, you know! I looked at her, and smiled. She smiled back. But all of a sudden, the beautiful smiling face began to blur; actually, the whole room had begun to smudge into weird shapes, colors, and
sizes. My head span; and I fell back into my bed, able to see nothing, but the pretty little face that looked over me.
I swear to God, she had spiked the drink.
The events of the following morning are etched clearly in my mind, to this day. I had slept past noon; and had to wake up with a terrible headache . My first impression was that I had been robbed; but looking through the room, I found everything— my laptop, my Tab, my wallet, and even my sandals— to be in exactly the same place as they were last night.
And then I looked beside me.
There was a letter on the bed, tucked underneath a pillow. Gathering a faint idea of what it held, I opened it slowly.
Dear Rajeev , it read,
By now, you would be sure; but just in case you aren’t, I haven’t stolen anything from you. I might be a prostitute, better off, a ‘ whore’ , as put by your lovely friend last night; but I’m no thief. I sincerely apologize for using the pills, but they were the only option left. You see, I had planned to write this beforehand; but who knew that packing my bags would take up so much time.
Yes, you heard correctly, I’m leaving Delhi. In fact, by now, I already have. You see, this city had begun to haunt me.
I mean, this is a city where rapists roam free; policemen look the other way when a girl is being molested; and our ‘highly-educated’, oh-so-mighty ministers advise to cover ourselves from head to toe, and even worship cows, to stop such incidents from happening!
Hey! Women are the guilty here! Aren’t they? And what does the great aam-aadmi of India do? He goes to his Facebook page, to post sympathetic statuses. As The White Tiger has already said, What a Fu*king Joke! Why am I going on this angry rant, you ask?
Well, my dear friend, you, and thousands of others just like you, are just as inhuman. You call yourselves the educated future of the country; but the moment You hear of a prostitute, your whole perspective of her changes dramatically.
Suddenly, you don’t love her the same way anymore. You feel ashamed to be seen with her; or to introduce her to your parents. And you think of a hundred ways to dump her. Am I wrong, Rajeev? Can you tell me the number of times you thought of dumping me in the last two days?
If not, then why did you take twelve hours to call me? Why didn’t you run after me that very night? I don’t blame you, Rajeev. I get the fact that you wanted to know my secrets, and me keeping them from you just made matters worse. But
couldn’t you come to me and ask, just once?
I won’t lie. You had made me feel wonderfully special the last two months; and the only thing missing from our relationship was, sex. And last night, we had that too. After all, nobody should be able to say that you dated a whore for two months, and didn’t fu*k her, right?
Now, I’m going to finish off in short; you see, every time I glance at you, I get this stupid feeling that you could wake up any moment now. So, When u read this, I would be pretty far-off. You see, I had been planning to leave this heartless city, for a long time now; but, then suddenly, you came along, and changed everything. Now that I think I’ve got over you, it’s time to leave after all.
Perhaps, I would go back to my parents, maybe I would be a waitress somewhere; or, I could even go back to being what I was, in some other heartless city.
Another thing, Rajeev. If you think that I’m doing this wrong, just ask yourself, Could you, your family, or your freaking society ever accept me for what I was?
The answer is, NO.
So, my dear, this is for the best. Lastly, I know how much hearing this would have meant to you that night, but I loved you, Rajeev. I really did.
Goodbye dear, take care, and please move on.
It had been the longest half-an-hour of my life. I had felt my conscience raining down virtual slaps me the whole time. And the saddest part was, each of her words was true. I preserved her letter very carefully; and every time I read it in the next few days, I felt like going after her, finding her; then pleading her to come back.
But then what?
I remembered what she had said. Could we actually accept her? Perhaps not. And hence, she deserved better– a world where people have hearts; where she could be herself. It had, indeed, been for the best. Or had it???