A soporific afternoon of the impending summers. Nothing to write really. But an itch to just let my fingers punch the keys.
Muskan sells trinkets the whole day and is a prostitute at night. Yesterday ,she flashed her purest of regular smiles. I bought her trinkets and made her wear them. Amidst annoyed expressions, she suddenly broke into a mirthful laugh. She fled her aunt's place after her cousin tried to force himself on her. Barely a teenager then, she landed in this city. She says that the urge to save herself proved harsher and dearer than one rape she could escape. She misses her parents and weeps when recalling how they were burnt to death in the 2002 riots.
I met Kittu once on the metro station. He used to beg. His father(once a rickshaw puller)was sentenced to life imprisonment in a relatively weaker case. Our meetings became a routine later. Then i got busy with my life to make frequent trips to the place. A few weeks ago, i could not recognise his smiling face peering out of the yellowish white school uniform. I gave him a quizzical look. He said that after his mother died, his sister moved from working as a cook to working in massage parlours and insisted on his joining school. She threatens of committing suicide if he would ever beg again.
Sahista came to the city to pursue higher studies. An averagely decent student, she realised it required a patient wait and consistent perseverence to move up the social ladder. Her cravings for branded clothes and lavish lifestyle pinched her limited pocket money. What began as a light mood flirtation in college ended up as her part time assignments now. I met her en route for an interview. She flashed one of her memerising smiles and we talked of Marquez and Coetzee till we parted ways.
The coffee tastes bitter in the mouth. I realise i have nothing more to say. Perhaps, there is nothing left to really add to the asphyxiated feeling. Wish life was simple enough to allow to make judgements!....And perhaps decide which of the either/or sides we ought to sit on.