Saturday 24 November 2012

They call her a Whore!


The play of orgasm and money which still knits behind the veil of urbane civilization dates back to the oblivion. A practiced heinousness since the most ancient years and even in the most sacred times evinces the sanctity of the squalidness of prostitution- A sordid portrayal of femininity. It’s ghastliness behind the curtains of those disgraced
 walls of the brothels…... have always been a celebrated custom in the evolving race of the rampant world. The sexual game that breeds in the narrow lanes of the Profaneness and Poverty has permeated well from the aristocratic Harems to the raw modern society.
The voyage was not disparate for her…. from any of those obtrusive women who shared the dark corners of the railway station or thronged the most obscure drenched streets of the city…. placing themselves to be mutilated by the infernal weapons of lust and animosity. Bimlamati had been 24 by then!!! Nine long years of estrangement from the clean social niche and bereavement from affection had been her life for all that time. Intense inimical environ and infliction of pain beyond human endurance had made her elope from her hostile confinements to savor sovereignty and mirth.... unaware of the diabolism that waited her crouching in that swarming populace. And since then she had been grafted into that abhorred low lane of the concubines….. to gratify the men and their ghoulish desires. The nascent adolescence built on gushing hopes and frailty had been shattered once again…. and they called her a ‘Whore’.
But is she just a whore….. when they call her one??? Is she not a mother or had a mother too??? Is she not the girl who desires to be apparelled in the attire of dignity and tread the arcades with the plumes of freedom decked on her…. but how would she?? Had she not thrown it off the last night and every night…… to feed the child she mothers, to water that sprouting sprig..... and keep the moist breath alive. The upper world which nestles on the other bank watches the darkness of this filthy world grow….. and scorns this reeking world… but the smoke that they see has its fire in their own homes. It is not the brothels which tame the wretches… but our homes which nurture the atrocities. The soul needs to be cleansed… and later the frame that enshrines it!!!

7 comments:

  1. nicely written.....everything is so very true

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  2. The soul needs to be cleansed… and later the frame that enshrines it!!!
    This one was deep
    *respect*

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  3. Its awesome. esp the last few lines.. those words convey so much! moved by it.

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