On a starry night of November, the shack in which Korim rickshawalla lived was shaken as a baby girl pooped on the hands of her Dai ma as she faced the new world with her shrilling screech. They named her Zerin and she grew up to be a prostitute.

            It may seem very impractical to give away the climax of the story in the first paragraph. But that’s what had happened with her, Korim planned her price the day she was born.

            Zerin had seven older brothers, she being the last of Korim’s child. Zulaykha Banu, her legitimate mother was jealous of some of the illegitimate sons in the horde. Although they were a nice source of income, she could never bear them. And at times when quarrels broke out, she would end up literally fighting with them. In fact once they had ganged up against her and she was terribly injured – she had lost one of her breasts.

            It happened when Zerin was twelve. Korim avoided Zulaykha after the incident, burdening her no more with his seed. He married a second time and moved on with life. The very shack where Zerin was born became the sick-house for her mother. After suffering from grave fever, one rainy day, Zulaykha left her earthly abode.

            That very humble shack was the place where Zerin at the age of fifteen was first robbed of her virginity. Without her mother to shield her from the rough world, she ended up in the arms of her savage neighbour.

            This was Jamal Mia, the regular customer of the brothels nearby. He always had his eyes open for the opportunity to taste Zerin. ‘Taste’, that’s what he said in his native tongue to encounters like these. He didn’t even care to ask Zerin’s father; breaking through the fragile door, embracing her and then forcing her to give up. Zerin knew she was being wronged but what could she have done?

            Very soon offers knocked at her door. She had the reference to work for any of the brothels around. Without delay, Korim seized the opportunity to get rid of an urchin that was bothering him for a very long time. He sold her for a price of a few thousands.

            Like an animal she was shoved into the bus with a stranger who took care of her in the most intimate way. This man was to travel with her to the city and deliver her to one of the best brothels in the country. Sitting by the window, Zerin bid her village goodbye. Her eyes watered as she thought of her mother. Although she never received any affection from her father, she still felt an inborn love for him. She knew she would miss her brothers who at that moment knew nothing about her. The next day they were told she had run away from house.

            The night swooped down with darkness on its wings; sending Zerin to a desperate sleep decorated with nightmares. As the night died away, she awoke to see a big jungle of glass and steel gleaming in the horizon. She had arrived in the capital of the country! She was at the gateway to heaven!

            The old lady, who received her at the front door of the huge mansion was no other than the mistress of the legendary brothel called ‘Hundred Stars’. Welcoming Zerin into the palace with a warm embrace, she handed the packet of money to the stranger.
            “Welcome to my sweet abode where dreams comes true and men drown in the pool of desire, lust and sensuality.” She said with suitable gestures, “Follow me darling.”

            Zerin followed without a second thought. She knew the place was evil and she also knew no farishta could help her out of this mess. In the next room she was undressed and scrutinized inch by inch. There were questions about her cleanliness. And there were praises for her ripe features.

            “Done with you, sweetheart!” the examining lady gave her a kiss and her clothes.

May be Zerin’s ashen face arose some sympathy in the mistress’ mind because she ordered, “No more for you today. Go and rest. Eat your food. Tuntun will have your clothes ready by then. In the evening you’ll be called for the beauty bath. Go babe.”

Zerine was accompanied to her new room by three of her co-workers. Each of them were dressed ostentatiously – thick lipsticks of dark colours, sarees adorned with pearls and glass, sandals embedded with colourful stones, hair tied at the back with butterfly hair-clips and a perfume that was powerful enough to set any man’s mind racing.

Cupping her breast they measured the size of it. They commented on it, being too small, though the silver lining was it increases with use. They tried to undress her once again; fondling her in the sensitive places. But this time Zerin resisted, she tried to push them off her. She wanted a way out of this labyrinth of hellish lust. But God knows why, she never found a way out. Being lean and short she couldn’t fight the three monsters. Two of them held her hands and the third removed the torn saree that she was wearing. And then they did what even animals would think twice before doing – they made use of her. Tired, broken, exhausted, wasted they left her, lying on the bed.

After an hour or so, a glass of water and three chapattis with some vegetable curry arrived. The middle-aged lady who brought it was unlike any of the people there. She was kind, just and reasonable. She helped Zerin out of the bed, helped her wear a new saree and fed Zerin herself like a mother to a daughter.

The following evening, Zerin went through the first grooming session of her life. They tidied her up; shaving her, giving her a rose-water bath, polishing her nails, sorting out the best hair-cut for her, bleaching her face and lending it a new look. When it all ended, the mistress was more than happy because she had found her baby doll.

From the next day onwards Zerine was classed on dancing, talking and performing. She learnt how to do the hip dance and the butt dance. She learnt how to talk to gentle customers and rough ones. She was taught the small things that customers enjoy during sex – like sucking a candy, drinking a little and so on. And finally they taught her the most important thing – the several ways in which she could please a man. She learnt how to give a man the maximum pleasure of an orgasm and how to make him feel like returning to her every night. And they taught her the safety tips – what should be done if any customer loses control of himself. There were health lesson also where she learnt the exercises she needed to execute before and after the intercourse so that she doesn’t lose the elasticity of her womanhood.

Zerin had accepted her life just the way it was. After bothering her for a few days the first three co-workers left her alone. The lady, who was the cook, loved her like a child and Zerin grew fond of her. Each day was a battle for her to be what she never was. But she was victorious at the end. Her first customer arrived a month later.

He was a business man. There was a mark of worry on his face. He never allowed Zerin to touch him. He had come to satisfy his hunger, but guilt didn’t allow him to. He felt he was betraying his wife. She passed the night sitting on a sofa opposite to him.

However, the next customer on the list was a driver and a good driver too. He drove her to the edge of yelling out in pain and gasp for breath. Her puny physique could take in no more. For this beastly driver, sex was like food, it didn’t matter how he ate it, what he ate or with whom he ate with. All he cared about was his hunger got to be satisfied. This left Zerin out of work for two days. She had to be given some medical care before she could get back into business again.

Every night she slept blanketed with dreams of happiness; the seemingly desolate moon watching over her torn self. Someday she would own a house, a bungalow, a baby car; her dreams tempted her. Sometimes she dreamt of her first love – the boy in her village named Arafat – tall, dark eyed and a sports-lover. The crystal ball of her dream showed her that she had husbanded Arafat and they had three children. But more often a particular nightmare disturbed her merry dreams. She never told anybody about it; it sounded crazy to her; of course dreams are always non-sensible.

Day in and day out, she lived the wretched life that she was put in. Her price grew with her experience. After six years of labour, she was on top of the price chain. Only rich men could visit her heavenly self. The mistress in order to interest the customers named her ‘the girl with soft feet’.

Zerin no more felt pain when they rode her. She no more missed her ancestral village or her prince charming Arafat. Her mothers face faded away from her mind and she learnt to deny the existence of her father. Only sometimes in sleep she would see her mother in the sick-bed dying without proper medicine and food.

At the peak of her success after twelve years, she met an author by the name Mahmud. Mahmud had gone to ‘Hundred Stars’ to relax. His family life was a torn one with many scratches, scars and stitches. He desperately needed a gateway to leave behind his family life at least for a while. And he thought a total uninterrupted sex after three years could make him feel relieved. He was looking forward to feel the void that one feels after an orgasm.

Zerin was chosen by him. Although the mistress warned him of her expense, Mahumud gave her half the money in advance. With no more warnings, she led him to Zerin’s room. Welcoming Mahmud in, Zerin offered him a drink. Then she sat on his lap, and they kissed. The intensity increased and the heat rose. After a while Zerin unbuttoned his shirt and massaged his body. Slowly moving down to his pant she unbuckled the belt and then removed it from his pants. Salaciously unveiling his manhood, she did what was her business. Without waiting much longer he grabbed her hair and tore her dress. Mahmud then entered her in a very delicate way unlike any of her other customers. For the first time in her life Zerin felt she wasn’t just giving, she was receiving too. This man was giving her pleasure – something that she never felt in her life. They slept in each others arms afterwards.

At some time in the middle of the night Zerin woke up with a screech of horror. Mahmud, incomprehensibly, looked at Zerin. “What is it?” He asked.

“It was a nightmare.” She answered gasping for breath.

He rubbed her back. Zerin rested her head on his shoulder. “Can I know what it showed?” He asked thinking she would not answer.

“I often see a nightmare. It haunts my sleep almost every night. It happened when I was young but it is as fresh as the day before.

When I was a young girl, growing up in my village, we had to go for bath in the pond. This particular pond that I am talking about had a deep side and a shallow side. Usually we swam in the shallow waters. But sometimes my older brothers would help me swim in the deep waters. One day one of my older brothers took me to the deeper waters and after a while when I could manage a little, he went to fetch a friend of mine. I was doing fine but suddenly I lost it. I couldn’t swim. I was drowning! My body was violently moving its hands and legs to come up to the surface. But nothing worked. I was simply losing my breath and my eyes were losing the green vision.

It was at such a moment that I felt my soul leaving my body like a light feather. It seemed to glide upwards and finally out of the water. I was the soul and the body! I could see my soul looking down on my body. And I could see my body fighting to survive. I shared two viewpoints, two perspectives!

I was choking underwater, water penetrating my nose and mouth, and I was smiling, hovering over the pond, free and independent.

Suddenly my brother caught me and pulled me out of the depth. I was conscious. I lived. But the experience never left me. It haunts me. In my nightmares I feel I am trapped underwater and my soul is smiling at me.”

Mahmud looked at her, amused. “After how long have you talked to somebody with an open heart?”

“I used to talk with my mother but after she left I found nobody to talk to. The lady who cooks here is a good friend though.”

The harmonious tune of Azan floated into the room. It was early dawn. And Mahmud left for his house. As the rickshawalla sped past the familiar destroyed neighbourhood, Mahmud thought of her.

The shops at his sides were broken down for being illegal. The houses were hammered for not having a land certificate. The people who lived there were now next to beggars. Where can they go after all? No other country will take them in. They have to stay here even if it’s on the road. More than six generations of these families lived in this place. Nobody cared to make a land certificate – who would deny their authority over the land? A time of more than six generation is not a small deal! But somehow there arose a group of people who questioned and drove them out of their own houses. Where would the old go? The young though had a better situation – they could make their livelihood out of robbery.

At the age of fifty-five Zerin made her first wish to her aged mistress. She wanted to go to Azmir. Realizing, she was not useful anymore, the mistress gave her the percentage of her lifetime earning and sent her to Azmir. In Azmir Zerin visited the Mazaar. She had gone there to beg for redemption of her sins. But before she could raise her hands for prayer, she fell. For a moment the young face of Arafat flashed in her mind and then she saw her mother dying. Just before the she lost her consciousness, she could see her soul hovering over her, smiling. The string binding her spirit to her body tore and she lay motionless.

Her soul fluttered away to its desti

            On a starry night of November, the shack in which Korim rickshawalla lived was shaken as a baby girl pooped on the hands of her Dai ma as she faced the new world with her shrilling screech. They named her Zerin and she grew up to be a prostitute.

            It may seem very impractical to give away the climax of the story in the first paragraph. But that’s what had happened with her, Korim planned her price the day she was born.

            Zerin had seven older brothers, she being the last of Korim’s child. Zulaykha Banu, her legitimate mother was jealous of some of the illegitimate sons in the horde. Although they were a nice source of income, she could never bear them. And at times when quarrels broke out, she would end up literally fighting with them. In fact once they had ganged up against her and she was terribly injured – she had lost one of her breasts.

            It happened when Zerin was twelve. Korim avoided Zulaykha after the incident, burdening her no more with his seed. He married a second time and moved on with life. The very shack where Zerin was born became the sick-house for her mother. After suffering from grave fever, one rainy day, Zulaykha left her earthly abode.

            That very humble shack was the place where Zerin at the age of fifteen was first robbed of her virginity. Without her mother to shield her from the rough world, she ended up in the arms of her savage neighbour.

            This was Jamal Mia, the regular customer of the brothels nearby. He always had his eyes open for the opportunity to taste Zerin. ‘Taste’, that’s what he said in his native tongue to encounters like these. He didn’t even care to ask Zerin’s father; breaking through the fragile door, embracing her and then forcing her to give up. Zerin knew she was being wronged but what could she have done?

            Very soon offers knocked at her door. She had the reference to work for any of the brothels around. Without delay, Korim seized the opportunity to get rid of an urchin that was bothering him for a very long time. He sold her for a price of a few thousands.

            Like an animal she was shoved into the bus with a stranger who took care of her in the most intimate way. This man was to travel with her to the city and deliver her to one of the best brothels in the country. Sitting by the window, Zerin bid her village goodbye. Her eyes watered as she thought of her mother. Although she never received any affection from her father, she still felt an inborn love for him. She knew she would miss her brothers who at that moment knew nothing about her. The next day they were told she had run away from house.

            The night swooped down with darkness on its wings; sending Zerin to a desperate sleep decorated with nightmares. As the night died away, she awoke to see a big jungle of glass and steel gleaming in the horizon. She had arrived in the capital of the country! She was at the gateway to heaven!

            The old lady, who received her at the front door of the huge mansion was no other than the mistress of the legendary brothel called ‘Hundred Stars’. Welcoming Zerin into the palace with a warm embrace, she handed the packet of money to the stranger.
            “Welcome to my sweet abode where dreams comes true and men drown in the pool of desire, lust and sensuality.” She said with suitable gestures, “Follow me darling.”

            Zerin followed without a second thought. She knew the place was evil and she also knew no farishta could help her out of this mess. In the next room she was undressed and scrutinized inch by inch. There were questions about her cleanliness. And there were praises for her ripe features.

            “Done with you, sweetheart!” the examining lady gave her a kiss and her clothes.

May be Zerin’s ashen face arose some sympathy in the mistress’ mind because she ordered, “No more for you today. Go and rest. Eat your food. Tuntun will have your clothes ready by then. In the evening you’ll be called for the beauty bath. Go babe.”

Zerine was accompanied to her new room by three of her co-workers. Each of them were dressed ostentatiously – thick lipsticks of dark colours, sarees adorned with pearls and glass, sandals embedded with colourful stones, hair tied at the back with butterfly hair-clips and a perfume that was powerful enough to set any man’s mind racing.

Cupping her breast they measured the size of it. They commented on it, being too small, though the silver lining was it increases with use. They tried to undress her once again; fondling her in the sensitive places. But this time Zerin resisted, she tried to push them off her. She wanted a way out of this labyrinth of hellish lust. But God knows why, she never found a way out. Being lean and short she couldn’t fight the three monsters. Two of them held her hands and the third removed the torn saree that she was wearing. And then they did what even animals would think twice before doing – they made use of her. Tired, broken, exhausted, wasted they left her, lying on the bed.

After an hour or so, a glass of water and three chapattis with some vegetable curry arrived. The middle-aged lady who brought it was unlike any of the people there. She was kind, just and reasonable. She helped Zerin out of the bed, helped her wear a new saree and fed Zerin herself like a mother to a daughter.

The following evening, Zerin went through the first grooming session of her life. They tidied her up; shaving her, giving her a rose-water bath, polishing her nails, sorting out the best hair-cut for her, bleaching her face and lending it a new look. When it all ended, the mistress was more than happy because she had found her baby doll.

From the next day onwards Zerine was classed on dancing, talking and performing. She learnt how to do the hip dance and the butt dance. She learnt how to talk to gentle customers and rough ones. She was taught the small things that customers enjoy during sex – like sucking a candy, drinking a little and so on. And finally they taught her the most important thing – the several ways in which she could please a man. She learnt how to give a man the maximum pleasure of an orgasm and how to make him feel like returning to her every night. And they taught her the safety tips – what should be done if any customer loses control of himself. There were health lesson also where she learnt the exercises she needed to execute before and after the intercourse so that she doesn’t lose the elasticity of her womanhood.

Zerin had accepted her life just the way it was. After bothering her for a few days the first three co-workers left her alone. The lady, who was the cook, loved her like a child and Zerin grew fond of her. Each day was a battle for her to be what she never was. But she was victorious at the end. Her first customer arrived a month later.

He was a business man. There was a mark of worry on his face. He never allowed Zerin to touch him. He had come to satisfy his hunger, but guilt didn’t allow him to. He felt he was betraying his wife. She passed the night sitting on a sofa opposite to him.

However, the next customer on the list was a driver and a good driver too. He drove her to the edge of yelling out in pain and gasp for breath. Her puny physique could take in no more. For this beastly driver, sex was like food, it didn’t matter how he ate it, what he ate or with whom he ate with. All he cared about was his hunger got to be satisfied. This left Zerin out of work for two days. She had to be given some medical care before she could get back into business again.

Every night she slept blanketed with dreams of happiness; the seemingly desolate moon watching over her torn self. Someday she would own a house, a bungalow, a baby car; her dreams tempted her. Sometimes she dreamt of her first love – the boy in her village named Arafat – tall, dark eyed and a sports-lover. The crystal ball of her dream showed her that she had husbanded Arafat and they had three children. But more often a particular nightmare disturbed her merry dreams. She never told anybody about it; it sounded crazy to her; of course dreams are always non-sensible.

Day in and day out, she lived the wretched life that she was put in. Her price grew with her experience. After six years of labour, she was on top of the price chain. Only rich men could visit her heavenly self. The mistress in order to interest the customers named her ‘the girl with soft feet’.

Zerin no more felt pain when they rode her. She no more missed her ancestral village or her prince charming Arafat. Her mothers face faded away from her mind and she learnt to deny the existence of her father. Only sometimes in sleep she would see her mother in the sick-bed dying without proper medicine and food.

At the peak of her success after twelve years, she met an author by the name Mahmud. Mahmud had gone to ‘Hundred Stars’ to relax. His family life was a torn one with many scratches, scars and stitches. He desperately needed a gateway to leave behind his family life at least for a while. And he thought a total uninterrupted sex after three years could make him feel relieved. He was looking forward to feel the void that one feels after an orgasm.

Zerin was chosen by him. Although the mistress warned him of her expense, Mahumud gave her half the money in advance. With no more warnings, she led him to Zerin’s room. Welcoming Mahmud in, Zerin offered him a drink. Then she sat on his lap, and they kissed. The intensity increased and the heat rose. After a while Zerin unbuttoned his shirt and massaged his body. Slowly moving down to his pant she unbuckled the belt and then removed it from his pants. Salaciously unveiling his manhood, she did what was her business. Without waiting much longer he grabbed her hair and tore her dress. Mahmud then entered her in a very delicate way unlike any of her other customers. For the first time in her life Zerin felt she wasn’t just giving, she was receiving too. This man was giving her pleasure – something that she never felt in her life. They slept in each others arms afterwards.

At some time in the middle of the night Zerin woke up with a screech of horror. Mahmud, incomprehensibly, looked at Zerin. “What is it?” He asked.

“It was a nightmare.” She answered gasping for breath.

He rubbed her back. Zerin rested her head on his shoulder. “Can I know what it showed?” He asked thinking she would not answer.

“I often see a nightmare. It haunts my sleep almost every night. It happened when I was young but it is as fresh as the day before.

When I was a young girl, growing up in my village, we had to go for bath in the pond. This particular pond that I am talking about had a deep side and a shallow side. Usually we swam in the shallow waters. But sometimes my older brothers would help me swim in the deep waters. One day one of my older brothers took me to the deeper waters and after a while when I could manage a little, he went to fetch a friend of mine. I was doing fine but suddenly I lost it. I couldn’t swim. I was drowning! My body was violently moving its hands and legs to come up to the surface. But nothing worked. I was simply losing my breath and my eyes were losing the green vision.

It was at such a moment that I felt my soul leaving my body like a light feather. It seemed to glide upwards and finally out of the water. I was the soul and the body! I could see my soul looking down on my body. And I could see my body fighting to survive. I shared two viewpoints, two perspectives!

I was choking underwater, water penetrating my nose and mouth, and I was smiling, hovering over the pond, free and independent.

Suddenly my brother caught me and pulled me out of the depth. I was conscious. I lived. But the experience never left me. It haunts me. In my nightmares I feel I am trapped underwater and my soul is smiling at me.”

Mahmud looked at her, amused. “After how long have you talked to somebody with an open heart?”

“I used to talk with my mother but after she left I found nobody to talk to. The lady who cooks here is a good friend though.”

The harmonious tune of Azan floated into the room. It was early dawn. And Mahmud left for his house. As the rickshawalla sped past the familiar destroyed neighbourhood, Mahmud thought of her.

The shops at his sides were broken down for being illegal. The houses were hammered for not having a land certificate. The people who lived there were now next to beggars. Where can they go after all? No other country will take them in. They have to stay here even if it’s on the road. More than six generations of these families lived in this place. Nobody cared to make a land certificate – who would deny their authority over the land? A time of more than six generation is not a small deal! But somehow there arose a group of people who questioned and drove them out of their own houses. Where would the old go? The young though had a better situation – they could make their livelihood out of robbery.

At the age of fifty-five Zerin made her first wish to her aged mistress. She wanted to go to Azmir. Realizing, she was not useful anymore, the mistress gave her the percentage of her lifetime earning and sent her to Azmir. In Azmir Zerin visited the Mazaar. She had gone there to beg for redemption of her sins. But before she could raise her hands for prayer, she fell. For a moment the young face of Arafat flashed in her mind and then she saw her mother dying. Just before the she lost her consciousness, she could see her soul hovering over her, smiling. The string binding her spirit to her body tore and she lay motionless.

Her soul fluttered away to its destiny.