Nightmare on Juhi's Street

LHM


This story is by my colleague Juhi Chaudhary. She literally "dreamt" it up one night. I like it because it's so detailed. It has colors, faces, names, sounds, everything a Hollywood movie has. Do you all have such vivid dreams?



I really don't know how it started. I guess it started with the news of my friend Ari coming to Delhi. However excited, I couldn't meet him once he hit the town. It was only when his companion Raz joined him here, that I got a chance to meet them and decided to escort them to my home. We boarded a blueline bus and while riding it, Raz and I suddenly started to get the feeling as if we were riding a tram in Milan. Soon, the concrete road turned into a cobbled street. We could feel the Old world whiz by... but somehow Ari was giving us irritated looks. Probably, the transition wasn't complete. He could see loads of kachra dher with the back of the cows shitting around. Raz and I were shouting out of the windows in ecstasy ... ''It looks like UK...It is beautiful'... O man!! Delhi is beautiful!' It was beautiful! I tried to pep up Ari by showing him some European cows on the roads.. I didn't understand then that why he gave me worst of his anger-filled look.. after all, the cow backs were so beautiful! Finally the tram stopped right at my house gate. It would still take me a few years to understand why I was the only one who got down from the train (from this point our 'Italian tram' changes to a 'train'). Probably I forgot that i had invited them for dinner (it was still daytime!). I stood at my house and bade them goodbye happily... while Ari was looking back at me in shock from the train window.. but thankfully Raz was lost in her own ecastic world and cajoled the driver into giving them a free trip of this European tour! ( I am sure Ari that all you wanted to do was to kill both of us). We were too happy! But I didn't know that things would shape for worse. Or they were already shaping..

As I turned around to enter my house, suddenly it turned night! I could see the womenfolk of my house in hoods (like death-eaters of Harry potter) kneeling in darkness in their black robes and holding a small transistor. Some news was running about vanishing people, allegedly being kidnapped by the aliens and then released back again mysteriously, only to find some of their organs missing. There had been such a strike again. Everyone was talking in hushed up voices. I saw the reporter on the transistor (not on the TV!) And Bingo! I got the inspiration to choose the broadcast journalism as my career!

Then I found myself wearing a nice dress with stilettos standing at a Peepal Tree with my sister. I looked back and realized that my mom and other woman were huddling against one another in the car in their black robes. The tree was shaking under the fierce moist winds. The enormity of the situation suddenly dawned on me. I realized that the women were scared to get out of the car in the stormy night. So they had chosen me and my sister to perform the ritual of lighting a lamp at the peepal tree to ward off aliens. We were without cover! And wanted to finish this off before they struck on us... I lighted one matchstick after the other... it seemed that it took me ages to struggle with the matchstick.. finally after performing this solemn duty.. I looked back to check if my mom and aunts were safe in the car.... and suddenly "EVACUATE THE CAR!" Everyone darted out of the car! We tried to look through the confusion and to discover a cop marketing MBA guy wearing a casual shirt smiling wickedly, his gold teeth glistening in the night, and shouting slogans at us ' NEXT COULD BE YOU'. He turned out to be a brand marketing guy who was advertising his company's new anti-aliens car! He demonstrated new steel cars that could disrupt the satellite signals of the aliens. Before I could overcome my fear, a soft and yet firm voice of a cop told us that he is right. Aliens had established the signal with the normal cars and could easily track them on their maps and could strike. These anti-alien cars worked like ghost cars and remained hidden on the galaxical map! Of course, this broadened the smile of the marketing guy who started demonstrating his magical cars. While the womenfolk were engrossed with that, I neared to the cop and looked at his familiar face. He was my long lost love Captain Albert Louis, well polished, Sauvé, extremely handsome. I could feel his breath. It took me back to the time when I loved him dearly only to discover one day that he was in love with some other lady! On seeing him, I couldn't resist and inched to get closer.... when there was a sudden screeeeeeching sound!!!!! a lot of fumes.. cosmic red rays.. Aliens have struck again! Captain Louis disappeared in the darkness..


Suddenly the area was filled with floodlights...and soon the area was filled with CNN-IBN reporters...trying to cover the scene. Out of a sudden, I thought of talking to them about my prospects as a journalist in future. As I walked towards the CNN-IBN main van to meet the reporter( he happened to be the same guy who promised me to grant me an internship with the channel earlier), suddenly a steel- frog like alien dropped accidentally from the spaceship into his van next to him!! I guess the alien was as confused as the reporter was. But on seeing me, this guy thought of demonstrating his interviewing abilities! He started posing questions about the alien's lifestyle and his motive behind the strike etc.. The alien just pointed his red long pipe at him and squeezed out all his bones!!! The next thing that I saw was the reporter limping with the folded skin like a rubber, being ushered in the ambulance by Captain Louis. The scene was bit funny. The alien was gone! But what was left behind was a vacant post at the news channel...and I was instantly granted the post of an investigative reporter!! I was the only person on earth who was happy at that time. I secretly thanked that alien!

Captain Louis appeared again and told me that the new discovery was that these aliens were basically doing their research studies on humans on earth and so they were collecting various organs of different people across the world! And the scariest part was these aliens were making a contact and tracing people who had accounts on the Orkut!! The aliens had cracked through the Orkut website.

I rushed. But I found myself travelling in the Eurostar train with my family, friends and around hundred people from all parts of the world. We were all holding special plastic wands with sparks like diwali phuljharis. I couldn't understand what was happening. Then I realized that this was the last train of earth in which the selected few earthlings were travelling to protect themselves from he aliens. The aliens hadn't left any part of the world untouched. While taking a round in the train coaches, I could see some of the people limping with missing bones, liver, kidneys etc. But they were all surviving inspite of that. Suddenly, a fear gripped me.. I realized that I was the only healthiest female in the train. In the middle of the crowd, I saw my sister and my friend Madhu working on laptop near a window. They seemed to be very indifferent and pepped up. On seeing me, they told me to delete my account from Orkut immediately else the aliens would locate the train! I told them not to login the account as aliens would have immediately cached my account. But they were determined to delete my orkut profile and they logged on the orkut! They didn't seem to be scared and told me that aliens don't kill. They just take out the organs which according to them was acceptable. I was damn scared as I didn't want to lose a single organ of mine.

Then as thought, the worst happened..as my sister was moving the cursor to delete my profile, an image of a spaceship suddenly appeared next to the cursor and started following it. It started moving along with the cursor. My sister tried to dodge the spaceship with the cursor, while I was yelling in scare. Just before she could click on the 'delete tab', the spaceship image caught the cursor and the screen started flashing in red colours. The spaceship icon started hovering on my image on the website. 'We were caught! We heard a loud ear-deafening supersonic sound. We looked through the window. The night sky had turned red. I could see a part of the large spaceship (identical to the image on internet) positioned above our moving train. There was a chaos! My sister and friend were still unnerved about it. I started running in panic in the train against the direction of the rest of the people.

I was hoping that someone would break the contact with the spaceship somehow. Then I heard the whistle and saw Captain Louis yelling in the train at the mob to restore the peace. He looked very serious and angry. I was running for my life. Suddenly he pulled me from the mob and patted me gently to calm me down. He put his arms around my shoulders while walking with me smilingly. I don't know what happened after that… but I found some comfort with him.

Malti: from Sex Worker to Peer Educator

LHM



By Sanjeev Kumar*

I came into contact with Malti four years ago during my work on rehabilitation of sex workers in the industrial city of Kanpur, India. My team was rebuffed more than four times when we attempted to establish contacts with the women as they believed we were law enforcement officers. But when we gained the confidence of women like Malti, we found out their golden souls and how bitter and hard life could be for women like her.

Malti is a 40 year old female sex worker at Kanpur. She belongs to the bediya community, whose traditional job is public entertainment at festive occasions. The ancestors of this community had migrated to Bhillaur in Kanpur from Rajasthan long ago.

The premature death of her husband was the beginning of troubles in Malti’s life. Harassed by her close relatives she had to leave Bhillaur with her two children, aged five and seven. She reached the city of Kanpur barefoot. She had no money to feed her children. She still hanged on to the hope that the city will somehow sustain her and her children. The hope soared when she met a woman she had known casually. This woman was working in a troupe of traditional dancers and musicians, locally known as Nautanki. The woman went out of her way to help her to give her a shelter and arrange work for her in the Nautanki.


The wages she earned from the Nautanki was not enough to feed her children, so she began borrowing money. As she was young and beautiful, many male colleagues were attracted towards her. They tried to befriend her by providing emotional support and loans. Soon she realized that all those overtures of help were for physical relationships.

Not used to stresses of big city life, being alone and in a highly vulnerable state of mind, she fell for a colleague and developed physical relationships with him. A moral barrier had been crossed and flood gates of a different life opened. For a while she felt guilty but then she began enjoying physical relationship which was no longer confined to one person but several other members of the troupe. She began to enjoy and crave sex with many men, more so because the men offered her good money.

Thus gradually Malti entered the sex trade. Her colleagues in the troupe also convinced her that there was no harm in it as it provided livelihood and emotional support. She started soliciting customers on her own and also associated herself with the network of pimps (who charged 30% commission). The earnings were good and ranged anything from Rs. 50 to 200 per client. This was several years ago. The income was sufficient as an allurement for a woman in her situation to keep in the profession.

Her clients mostly included truck and auto drivers, petty shopkeepers, factory workers and rickshaw pullers. She usually had sex in her own house, and her two growing children became mute witnesses to this. The result was obvious; her daughter is already in the sex trade and is paid quite high, between Rs 1500 to 2000 per day. She hardly supports her mother. Her second daughter is handicapped.

Some of her clients also had group sex with her in other locations. She found this very painful as people indulging in it were sex maniacs. It was also a humiliating experience, which could only be tolerated in a state of emotional numbness, which was needed and achieved only through alcohol and drugs. Using these substances she felt confident, open and also enjoyed the act. So, professional compulsions gradually introduced her to smoking, alcohol and drugs and she became dependent on them.

All these years of her working as a sex worker, neither she nor the clients she entertained were aware of ‘safe sex practices’. What she got and cared for was money and what she lost was her identity and self respect. She was shy and avoided mixing with women outside the community of sex workers. She could never gather enough courage to go to a medical practitioner for common ailments and she could never face society. She became more and more secluded and withdrawn.

Age began to catch up and the number of clients dwindled. She became overly dependent on middlemen who began to pay her less and less. She had to shift her residence to a filthy area of the city, devoid of even basic amenities. The place was full of petty crime and sex trade. There were times when she felt that her own value as a woman had severely degenerated.

When we came into contact with Malti, she was pregnant. Initially she was suspicious of us. She considered us to be government agents, out to nab women of low morals. The kindness, sympathy and understanding and respect shown to her by the team, despite her being in the sex trade, changed her outlook and she began to confide in them. After several sessions of counseling, learning of safe sex practices and medical attention, Malti has now become highly confident and self respecting. She is now aware of the dangers of sexually transmitted diseases including AIDS. It has not been easy to bring about this transformation. Her most transforming experience was interaction with similarly placed women who had found a new lease of life after working with the team. The women now openly discuss condom use, RTI / STI and HIV / AIDS etc.

Though still continuing in the trade, Malti is now conscious of the need for hygiene and safe sex. She is confident enough to seek help of health service providers, when need arises. She discusses messages related to safe sex with her other friends. While negotiating with clients she insists on condom use. Very often she finds resistance from the clients and even takes risks of losing them to younger sex workers, but she never gives up. She is happy that a condom depot is being established in her area and there is easy accessibility to condoms. As a peer educator volunteer, she has referred dozens of suspected cases of RTI/STI and even minor problems to Government hospitals and counseling centres. Malti gets herself and her daughter checked for sexually transmitted diseases.
Malti is a different woman now. She has regained self-esteem and her identity as a woman. She is aware that being a sex worker does not deprive her of her rights and debar her from doing her duties. She appreciates the efforts of the team in transforming her into a woman with hopes, desires and self-esteem. She feels privileged when somebody visits her house and has discussions with her.

“Till nine months back I was a drug addict and alcoholic. But since I came into contact with people from your organization, I have completely stopped drugs and smoking”, says Malti triumphantly. With no alternative employment in sight as yet, Malti has reconciled to her condition, but hopes to change it one day.

*Sanjeev Kumar is President, Sarvarth, an upcoming NGO. He can be reached at
sanjeev.snarottam@gmail.com

A post - after three weeks

LHM

After a few weeks, I come back again. With a brilliant, real life tale - from a gentleman who knows how ugly life's underbelly can be. Hope you like it.

Jaimon Joseph