I am Fatima, and I work at a brothel at the famous red light area in Delhi…the ‘Sona Bazaar’, and this is my love story that changed my life forever.

Chapter 1

It was 11 pm on a rainy Thursday, I had already ‘attended’ around 10 clients today and was in no mood for any more labour. Just then, a young boy entered the brothel. He glanced at the whole area with curiosity, as he took off his jacket, which had got a little wet. His baby-type face was telling that he was still a teenager or in his early twenties at max.

“I am Rajat …what is the procedure of getting a girl here,” he said.

For god’s sake, I died laughing listening to him asking for the ‘procedure’. It was evident he was a first-timer here. After Rocky, the manager explained everything to him, and he started looking at all the girls available, including me. I wasn’t expecting him to come towards me, as there were many more beautiful ‘options’ available, especially the new girls.

But no, Rajat just pointed his finger towards me. Giving money to the manager, he started coming towards me. I was completely perplexed. Why was he choosing someone 10 years older than him? But, what had to happen, had happened. Now I was inside the room with this young man. Little did I know, it will change my life forever.

CHAPTER 2

10 years ago, I had arrived in Delhi, eloping from my house. My eyes were shining with the dream of modelling. But, when I saw so many beautiful girls here, I was left wondering, how I could even compete with them.

As it turned out, it was not that easy. I was finding it difficult to find any loads or contacts. After some two days of roaming here and there, my eyes fell on a small poster in the corner, “Girls Needed for Modelling”.

My eyes glittered, I thought this is the opportunity I was craving for all this while. I reached the address mentioned in the poster at the designated time of 5 pm. Surprisingly, there was no one other than me and just one person, whose name was on the poster, Shantanu.

When I reached there, a middle-aged sober-looking man was sitting there, waiting for me. He asked me to do some dance steps and sing something. So far it was all fine. But, once I drank the juice from the glass kept there for me, I started feeling drizzy, my visuals started getting blur and I felt I’d faint.

FEW HOURS LATER

When my eyes opened slowly, I found myself at a huge and dark ‘haveli’ like place. As I looked around myself, I realised it was a brothel, with many dressed like all others at the brothel. Before I could’ve tried crying, my voice got numb looking at the 3-4 bouncers  After some while, I was also thrown inside one of the rooms with a ‘customer’. I had entered this dark world.

Initially, it seemed like a very threatening job with one after the other, I encountered extremely creepy and brutal maniacs there. Some were so ruthless once getting inside the room, that you couldn’t bear it, while some frustrated souls even resorted to physically assaulting woman. At one point, it felt that I will die in here. I tried to elope, but the bouncers here hold a vigilant guard. One day, as I came out of my room in night, trying to run away from here, I saw three bouncers thrashing Geeta.

“Will you dare to elope again? Tell me” the dangerous-looking Lokesh said as he stood there grabbing Geeta by her hair.

“It seems she has died…I told you not her that hard. Will have to dispose off the body now,” said Naseer, the other bouncer there.

My breath had stopped for some minutes. I don’t even know how I brought my near-lifeless body back to the room without uttering anything.

FEW DAYS LATER

When I was not able to understand anything, I tried to contact my family. I somehow managed to reach a PCO, and made a call to my house’s landline number.

“Ammi…Abbu…I am Nazma…you all are fine?”

It was Ammi on the other side of the call.

“Please help me. I’m stuck with some bad people in Delhi. Can you please come…”

Ammi interrupted saying, “Nazma, you are dead for us. The day you eloped with a boy, tarnishing the reputation of this family, we have considered our family of just three members.”

“Ammi, don’t say this…I’ll die, please help,” I begged.

“Then please die”

The call was cut, and so were all of my hopes. Now, this ‘Sona Bazaar’ was my fate and I had to live with it.

Chapter 3

It had been more than 15 minutes since we entered the room, and Rajat was still wondering. He was not even able to make eye contact with me.

I honestly hadn’t experienced this in my life, where the only clients I got were literal monsters who treated me and others as piece of flesh.

Is it your first time?” I ended up asking.

“Yes…no…how do you know that…I mean, why would you say that?” a perplexed Rajat asked.

“Well, the way you’re behaving, it’s quite obvious”.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been working here for 10 years and you’re the first man, or boy, I have seen, who is so nervous…looking here and there, rubbing his hands, not even trying to make an eye contact… it’s pretty obvious you’re a first timer”

Rajat was left bewildered hearing this. Now, out of desperation, he moved forward, held both my shoulders from his two hands, and hesitantly moved his head towards me. I firmed my grip over the back of his head and pulled him slightly. This was enough to trickle his hormones as Rajat finally started kissing me. The boy had made his debut.

FEW MOMENTS LATER

Well…the debut lasted only 5 minutes as Rajat , suddenly put me aside and started crying. I got shocked, as I hadn’t seen something like this before. I slowly rubbed my hands over his hair to calm him down, and brought his head rested on my lap. That’s how the whole hour passed, and after the time ended, he looked at me with thankful eyes, but left without uttering a word.

Chapter 4

There was a time when I didn’t work at any brothel and even my life used to be ‘normal’. Coming from a conservative family, it was a tedious task for me to live a modern life. I used to depart from the house in a Hijab with my face covered, but after boarding the bus, I used to take it off and put in my bag. I tried to live as stylish and modern lifestyle as possible, and all this was possible only while I remained at the school.

Returning from there, I used to follow a similar playbook. Putting on the Hijab, after entering the bus to return home. I also made a social media account, with a different name to conceal my identity, while also catching up with my friends.

I had huge aspirations. I wanted to do modelling, come on screen, act in movies. I knew my family would never understand my dreams. Only two people knew about it, me and my secret boyfriend, Amar.

Everything was going fine in our relationship, before that creepy Ramu saw me making love with Amar in school bathroom, and despite I requesting and Amar threatening him, he complained to the warden. Our parents were called, I was thrashed mercilessly at house, and my schooling was stopped. It was decided that I will be married off. It took my family just a minute to decide the outcome of my life. But, I was also next-level rigid. I decided to take ownership of my life.

I and Amar decided to elope from the city. Everything was planned, I had the train tickets, and was at the railway station. But…despite waiting for over an hour, Amar didn’t came. What only came was his text message, “Sorry Nazma, this is a big decision, and I can’t leave my family like that. And come on, we barely know each other.”

It felt as if a huge storm blew me up after reading this message. What hurt me more than Amar not coming, was he saying that “we barely know each other”. Well, I don’t think he thought this while he used to kiss me all over my face, or when he used to grab my breasts.

But, as I said, I am rigid of highest-order, so I decided to board the train alone and give a new chapter to my life. When the ticket collector asked me, “anyone with you ma’am?” I replied, “No, I’m alone.”

The last line just turned out to be the whole motto of my life.

Chapter 5

After a few regular days at the brothel, Rajat again came here. Paying the money, he again chose me. We entered the room, as I looked forward to another ‘peaceful’ hour.

This time, Rajat didn’t wait to break his silence.

“Why do you need to keep doing this work?” he said with a dead serious face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why do you need to work in this brothel? Why can’t you work in a good place…like others?”

“What do you mean by a ‘good place’… aren’t you too sitting here. Why the people like you have no problems with those visiting here for pleasure, but consider the women working here for a living ‘dirty’?” I said in desperation.

Rajat didn’t have any answer to this question. So after a brief period of silence, he held me and started kissing me. But, again, he stopped and held me by the shoulders “I can’t do this anymore.”

He barged out of the room again.

TWO DAYS LATER

Guess what, Rajat again came to the brothel, and as usual, picked me after paying the money.

As we entered the room, he said, “I’m sorry…I abruptly left that day”

“Nazma..my name,” I told him. He looked at me with surprise. He, perhaps, wasn’t expecting me to tell him my name.

“You asked me that day, why do I have to do this work, didn’t you?” I asked. “It’s easy to ask that question from a position of privilege. Try getting into the shoes of a woman with no family, and has to raise a 5-year-old daughter.”

“You have a daughter…but?” asked a bewildered Rajat

“What but? Why you sound surprised?”

“I mean…you…”

“So you’re surprised that how can a prostitute have a daughter…or let me rephrase it, how can a prostitute dare to have a daughter…right?”

“Shut up!” shouted Rajat. “That’s what you think of me”. This was the first time I heard him raise his voice.

Following this, I briefly told him my story.

“In brothels, many men come, from diverse backgrounds. Though, we ensure all protections during intercourse, some careless angry folks don’t take any precaution. One of those episodes left me pregnant. I realised only after a few months. Everyone asked me to drop the child. But, after all these years of getting hate, neglect and torture, it was the first time that something tender was going to enter my life. How could I’ve left it like that. I decide to have the child. And that’s how my sweet daughter, Zeba was born. She is the single-most point of happiness, I have in my life.

Chapter 6

“Nazma…I have to say something…” Rajat, who was laid beside me at the bed, said.

“Yes tell me…you don’t have much time left in your duration” I said and held the glass of water beside the bed.

“Will you marry me?”

The water splashed out of my mouth as I heard this. I wasn’t expecting this at all.

“Are you okay Nazma?” he asked.

“It seems so, but what happened to you? Why are you talking so strange?”

“What do you find so strange in me? I love you and want to marry you?”

“Are you serious…I don’t even want to talk about it…I think your time is over, please go now, please go”

I literally pushed him out of the room. I don’t remember getting this angry on anyone lately, and myself felt bad for a bit, but what to do.

FEW HOURS LATER

I reached my small one-room house, where my daughter was waiting for me. When I went in, I found her sitting in a corner, extremely sad.

“What happened Zeba? Why are you so sad?”

“I won’t go to school from tomorrow”

“Why? What happened, Zeba?”

“Everyone makes fun of me. They say I don’t have a father, and my mother is involved in dirty work. Everyone was laughing at me,” Zeba said and broke down into tears.

This was the first time I felt so helpless. Ever since Zeba came into my life, I have done everything to keep her happy and make sure she doesn’t feel any void. When she was an infant, I used to come to her after engaging with every client. I always cooked something or the other for her before I left for the brothel, so that she wouldn’t go hungry. But, it seems despite all my efforts, I have been unable to bring everything that she desired.

NEXT DAY

Here at the brothel, Rajat also was not ready to give up that easily. As usual, he came and entered my room.

“Nazma, what is the problem in me?”

“Rajat, you have lost your mind! You have been with me for a few days and are confusing lust with love or whatever…”

“Shut up! You have no idea how I feel about you,” and he broke down after saying this. He was crying like a child. I couldn’t resist, I went forward, held his head and lay on my shoulders while slowly moving my hand over his head.

“Rajat, whatever you feel for me, don’t waste your time on me…you are a young kid with a bright future ahead. Why the hell are you roaming behind a 30-year-old unmarried single mother who works in a brothel?”

“Weren’t you the one who asked me not to demean your profession that day…actually the thing is, it is you who is judgemental about people. I am not like them.

“Not like who?”

“Those who come here to fulfill their cravings. I’m not them…You don’t know what it is to have a problematic childhood. After my parents got divorced, I was put in an all-boys hostel, where I became more and more underconfident, was constantly bullied, and there was no shoulder where I could rest my head and cry. This bullying continued through college rising in severity. People started mocking me over my sexuality, calling me gay. It was at this point in time that I decided to somehow lose both my virginity and frustration in some brothel. I came here for the reason as others, but I couldn’t unleash myself like them. It’s because I feel differently for you. You know I…I…,” Rajat broke down, quite inconsolably this time.

I leaned forward and held Rajat’s head. My eyes had got moist listening to him. I kissed his forehead and then held his face further close to me. Both of us had our eyes moist. After a brief pause, the two of us kissed. It was the most passionate kiss of my life, one which I never wanted to end. I realised, I too had fallen for him, just like we did on the bed, embracing each other in our arms.

Chapter 7

“Are you mad Rajat? What are you even thinking,” said Nishant, one of his friend.

“Absolutely man, you can’t marry a prostitute…I mean, your quality can’t stoop this low,” said Mayank, the other friend.

“Shut up…you idiots! Who the hell do you think you are even talking about. And by the way, how many hours you spend at brothel Nishant? And you Mayank? What happened to your quality then?”

“Man, you are not understanding…” Mayank tried to point, but was cut off.

“I have perfectly understood people like you…till it’s pleasure, you guys have no problem fucking around, but as soon as it comes to emotions or some feelings, suddenly you all start caring about ‘quality’?

“Bhai, but try to understand, even if you do accept her lovingly, will your family, society accept her? Your new life is beginning, start it afresh” Nishant asserted.

“I don’t know all of that. What I know is I love Nazma, and tonight we are indeed moving for our fresh life

FEW HOURS BEFORE

“Nazma, as I told you, I have got a huge job in Chennai, and I have to move for my new life. And I want you to be a part of my life from now on, okay? I will come to take you tomorrow. Please be ready. Just come at the bus stop round the corner at 6 pm tomorrow. We all can have a beautiful and much better life,” Rajat told Nazma.

PRESENT TIME

It’s 6 pm, Rajat has been waiting for Nazma for more than an hour now. It was raining heavily now, and he started getting impatient as the train was at 7:30.

Suddenly, a child selling balloon who had got within the shed of the bus stop, approached Rajat.

“No I don’t want it, please go”

“Are you Rajat?” he asked.

Rajat, out of bewilderment looked at him, and asked “Yes, how do you know?”

“Today morning, a lady told me that a young well-dressed man would be waiting there at the bus stop for me. She asked me to give this letter to you.”

Rajat quickly snapped that letter, gave Rs 100 note to the boy and started reading it.

“Dear Rajat,

I know you love me so much. And trust me, I too genuinely started loving you. After looking at all these monsters at the brothel, you were the only genuine person I met in my life. Yes, it would have been a very easy decision for me to move with you and daughter Zeba, as it would have secured our future. But, as I said, I too love you, and I know, despite how much you try and how much bestow your love on me, you will not be able to make your family, friends and the society accept me. A 22-year-old man having a 32-year-old prostitute at home will only worsen your social profile. And, whatever love I have for you, I can’t afford to become a burden for you. Because of this, I and Zeba eloped today morning to another city. The bouncers don’t keep a watch on older women, that much, so it was easy. And if it had not been you, I perhaps, wouldn’t had taken this decision at this point of my life. Please Rajat, if you love me, don’t come before me, You have a bright life, please live it fully, ace your career and always be happy.

Your Love, 
Nazma”

The letter had got wet from Rajat’s tears. He took his luggage and went into the bus for the station. A new life lied ahead of him of which he wanted me to be a part of it, but not to be.

I loved him enough to let him go. Some love stories remain incomplete, but at times, the care and affection they carry is more than what many completed love stories. Such was my story with Rajat.

THE END