The Forbidden Streets of South Mumbai

I was 8 or 9 years old when I heard about these forbidden streets of South Mumbai. My grandmother rescued our domestic help's daughter who was lured into running away with her boyfriend. He brought her to Bombay. There they stayed with a friend for a few days before he made his real intentions clear to her. She had been cheated. He raped her. Invited his friends to rape her. Again and again. She was gangraped for over a month before he decided to sell her to one of the madams in Kamathipura.

She refused to sleep with other men, refused to participate in flesh trade. They would beat her with cane on her feet. Till she would give in. She stayed there for a little over three months, getting raped by different men each night. At least seven to eight men would fuck her each night. Periods was a time for some relief if a weirdo didn't turn up who enjoyed fucking menstruating women.

She was one of those fortunate women who was rescued thanks to my grandmother's contacts and a hell lot of money. She was brought back home. She was completely shaken, depressed, scared, and pregnant. Family got the child aborted, got some tests done for STDs. Thankfully everything was normal. They got her married soon enough. She is happy now, has two kids, and husband doesn't know anything about her past.

This is one of the stories. One of those rare stories where the victim was rescued. But does it happen in every case? When my grandma recites the story now, I realise how difficult it was to track her down and rescue her. The person who helped was stabbed. Luckily he survived. I have no idea what kind of risks, money and power were involved in the entire operation. What the girl must have gone through during that period.

A friend works with an NGO that works for sex workers of Kamathipura. I happen to discuss this story with her. She tells me her side of story. Rather, stories she gathered on her numerous visits to Kamathipura. 

To be continued..

And The Residue Remains

Independence Day is over. The streets that were full of people waving the tricolour yesterday are now full of half torn and muddy flags. Nobody gives a damn about the state of the country anymore. And it's kinda sad that this cynicism has become a reality now. Everywhere you see people not giving a damn about anything. Including their own lives. Pollution, population, corruption, crime - we tolerate everything like it's something obvious and something we cannot help.

The helpless state. Or the victim card. Be the bechara to get all the benefits. Fuck the rules. Fuck the fair game. Curse reservation when you don't get a seat anywhere. Curse the upper caste for treating lower caste as shit. Riots in the name of religion and blame the religion instead of those misusing and misinterpreting it. One judgment goes wrong and we blame the entire judiciary. Victim card/helplessness is a very safe and secure place. You are right even when you are wrong. And people will listen to you. 

If that doesn't work then bribe. Pay money and get the work done. Or not done. Keep doing it. Make the system so bloody corrupt that without money they don't even give you your death certificate. Pay the bribe to get the timely slot for cremation, or the best part of the land for burial. The smell coming out of the smoke tells you if you died rich or poor. We don't spare anyone. Or anything. 

Religion - again something we feel so strongly about. Whether in favour or against. Atheism is cool. Being a theist is kind of an abuse. You kill in the name of religion. They kill you because you killed in the name of religion. A few extremists malign the entire system. All of us die - one by one. Either as victims or as an accused. Just to feed that one sentiment we misunderstood. 

The torn flags on the roads remain as residues of our so called nation love for one day. Those half immersed idols float because we don't care either about them or the environment. Fuck the logic behind immersion. It's not the system, or the religious practice that's entirely wrong. It's the way you follow it - that's wrong. Practice doesn't specify the size of that idol. Or the requirement to buy and flaunt the flag you don't have any intentions of keeping. You abandon them. And you abandon your sentiments with them. That's where you go wrong. But it doesn't get destroyed completely. It stays there. Reminding you of what you have become. 

But again, who cares?

A Place for a Wandering Soul

Have you been to a place where, after stepping there, you feel as if you are in a new world altogether? Or think that the one you live in is no life at all. Your idea of a good life is actually an illusion that you live in. Place you can call home. You feel at peace even while doing nothing at all. You meet new people and in no time it feels as if you have known them for years. You still try not to be too friendly because it all seems too good to be true. 

Such a place exists. For the first time I am taking out time to write about it while being there. Yes I skipped a nice place to visit just to spend this time with myself. Going to the terrace and reading a book, visiting a cafe nearby all on my own - I need at least one such getaway on a trip. I don't care if I end up missing out on the best structure in this world for this time. But this time is important to me. 

Auroville is much more than a home. It accepts you the moment you come here. And I am so glad I did. Second day here and everything - from people to food to places to my room - everything is just perfect. I can hear the sound leaves are making outside. Some birds are chirping. They chirp round the clock. And it's a pleasant, soothing voice. There is an old fountain outside. It's not a pretty one. Quite old, not functioning too well. But that's the best part about it. The sound of water dripping from it is the most soothing sound you can ever imagine. 

Yes, it sounds too poetic. Or not. Who cares. The place is magical. It's almost untouched. A place where you would want to come to without a plan. And stay for as long as you want to. A place where the company doesn't matter. A place you want to visit on your own. And not leave. 

It helps you find yourself. And connects with yourself. What music does to you. Auroville has the same effect on you.

Scattered Thoughts

I think I need to clear the dust before I start writing here again. At least clear it off the laptop screen. There is so much to write about, so much to say and share and so little time. I have been busy with so many things. Mostly travelling. Travelling more than working. And that's a bloody good feeling. This year I made two trips to East/North East and three to North. And the next one is planned already.

More than the travel part, it is about meeting different people. Learning about different cultures. Realising that your country is more beautiful than you can ever imagine. Realising that those google images were less beautiful than the place. The value it holds. You look at the place differently from everyone else. 

Life experiences mould you. How certain things change you as a person. How you look at someone you know changes. How indifferences disappear. How easily you can now let go. Forgive. Forget. Move on. Or, live with it.

Or completely opposite of it. The person you couldn't live without once, is no longer with you. You may even hate him, or miss him like crazy and still want him. Some relationships leave you bitter. Some make you better. 

And some things don't change at all. Anger is one such thing. It's good so far as it's healthy. But the moment it starts controlling you, or making things worse for you, you need to take the charge. Start controlling it. It's not possible always, but not too difficult either.

My anger has always been on the extreme side. It's just so easy to make me angry. I can blast even if you say A and I don't like you. I can blast the hell out of you. I don't care where I am or who is in front of me. I cool down quickly but by then the damage has already been done. People who know me well know this about me. Rest are no longer in my life. 

Do I regret? No. If I really love you, and get angry at you, and don't try to makeup within max a day, then you are wrong. Amendments? It depends on your wrong. Some things cannot be amended. Or altered. Some things are lost forever. Anger is just a medium to severe ties. To detach. They were never meant to be. And they will never be.

I wrote this article in bits and pieces over five days. I have been trying to write, but unable to due to many reasons. Mind is not at peace. It's not disturbed either. It just lacks motivation at the moment. I am off to another trip. Another experience. I hope I come back motivated. To write.

Life, Travel and Stories

Being so busy that a break feels awkward. Travelling so much that your city doesn't feel like home anymore. Then where is home? what do we want? Why do we work so much? What's the ultimate motive of everything? Questions questions. With lame answers. Rather, stereotypical answers. There are so many things we want to do. Or don't want to do. Money - whether you agree or not, at least to earn bread and have a roof on our head. And to travel. Yes. That's very important.

Travel. Gather stories. There are so many stories in different cities, different towns. Every person is a story walking on two feet. At times four. wherever you go. And they teach you so many things. They teach you to live, to be happy, to be content. They teach you something you never knew or imagined its existence. They teach you the difference between the good you and the bad you. They teach you to be you. 

You are taking a walk in some strange city, or sipping tea at a quiet joint in some small town. You see women and children passing by, or playing. A kid is selling tea, a woman is rolling a bidi, a priest is doing pooja for some foreigners, a man is breeding bees for honey, someone is distributing clothes and food in the temple, some people are feeding the pigeons - you notice this while sitting at one of the ghats in pushkar. The lady rolling the bidi offers you one too as she sees you staring at her. The priest can't help giving you a cunning smile when he sees that you are observing the rituals. The kid sees a tea cup in your hand, thus doesn't come near you. 

But most of the people around you are curious. Because you are sitting there alone, doing nothing. You are talking to strangers, letting them cheat the foreigners, sharing their simple life, eating from their plate, letting them see your so called fancy phone, buying one more tea as the kid passes by again. Yeah fuck acidity, that smile is worth anything. The pigeons stink but they still give you a perfect picture when they all fly together - hundreds of them. 

Yes, it's a different life. Something you wish you had had. They might also be wanting your life. Just might. Or maybe not. They are happy sharing their story. Don't ask you yours. Even if they do, it's never about your life. And why do we want their kinda life? Because we see happiness lurking around there. And that content feeling. And peace. And for all these things you travel. And gather stories. To learn something from them. To learn how to live. And be happy. You take the learnings and go back home.

Happiness and Peace - That's our ultimate motive. For that we can go to any extent. We may cry, laugh, stay alone, go out, travel, drink, smoke - anything. And yet it runs away from us. We may get it for a while but that's that. It lasts like a temporary phase. After that you are again chasing the peace. You again travel to a new location. You go back to get some new learnings, to find a new kinda happiness and a new way to attain peace. And life goes on.