It was 2014. I had joined Caritas four months ago. A new job. Along with work, I was doing an evening MBA course at Dhaka University's IBA. There was hope in my mind that having an MBA would help with promotions in the future. Back then my world consisted of heaps of books, academic studies, and poetry—sometimes a bit of prose here and there. These things filled my days, my nights, my structured universe. Since childhood I had grown up in a rather confined space, bound by rigid routines. Read books, eat your meals, finish eating and sit down to read again. This was the entirety of my world. I had never really stepped outside this conventional world of mine. Actually, not that I never stepped out—I never had to.
Whatever time was left after academic studies, I would spend reading books, watching movies, listening to music. When the mood struck, I would write something too. To me, that was all the world meant. So walking the paths of the world, I never wandered through many byways and alleys, never saw them, and consequently never came to know them.
I lived in IBA's hostel. On Green Road. Room number 203. Everyone would joke that I lived in a room with two co-wives! While friends would finish classes and spend time together chatting, playing sports, wandering around, sitting on park benches with girlfriends eating peanuts, I would be thinking about finishing this particular book and picking up another, or writing something. Writing brought me great joy. Or I would sit in front of my laptop watching some classic movie that had been sitting unwatched on my hard drive for ages. My world was very small—books, cinema, music, writing. I was an extreme homebody, keeping myself locked up indoors. This was just who I was!
My friend Joyonto. Very lively, restless, mischievous, and utterly frivolous by nature. He saw life as colorful, not through the lens of books like me. He knew many byways and street corners of the world well. Outgoing by nature, the exact opposite of me. He lived four rooms down from mine. Room two-oh-eight.
One day, afternoon sliding into evening. I was half-lying by the window, absorbed in Samaresh Majumdar's 'Moner Moto Mon.' The room door was never really kept closed. Friend Joyonto came up from behind, put his hand on my shoulder, and with a kind of mischievous air began saying, "Friend, you can't keep the world imprisoned just inside books, step out a little and see what's where, which flowers bloom in which gardens, which banyan tree stands still at which street corner, which flags fly in which alleys!" Hearing such language from his mouth left me somewhat bewildered, and I asked, "What's wrong with you? Is your stomach upset? Why are you acting like this? What do you want to say, say it quickly! Don't create problems, say what you need to say and get away from here! The book is really good, friend! I'm reading, don't bother me!"
Now came another mysterious smile! With a kind of greedy look, biting and chewing his lips, he began saying, "Come on, today I'll take you to a new place. I'll make a man out of you today! You'll really like it."
Joyonto was my college friend. He works at a bank now. He often pulls such stunts. Without paying much attention to his words, I turned my eyes away from his face and plunged them back into the book. I threw the packet of salted cashews toward him and said, "Stop bothering me and eat this and leave! There are apples by that pot, eat them if you feel like it." I saw that friend was chewing nuts while gently patting my back and began saying in a hushed, coaxing voice, "Come on, man! Today I'll show you a new world. Promise, you'll like it!"
Now I was getting somewhat annoyed. I said, "Friend, I don't have much desire to see the world, when the time comes the world will show itself to me! If you want to see it, go see it, see even more! But leave from here, don't pull and tug at me! When I'm done reading, take the book, read it, you'll like it."... Hearing this, removing my hand from the book and placing his hand on my shoulder, pulling me close, Joyonto said, "Go on, get ready, today I'll take you to a very beautiful place, more beautiful than all your books, a mysterious world. Come on, man! Bastard, what's the point of dying in such an inhuman state? And yes, bring quite a bit of money with you."
Now my curiosity grew a little. Let me see where friend takes me! I got ready. Closing the book and placing it on the table, I went along holding friend's hand. I didn't know exactly where friend was taking me. But I could sense this much—we were going somewhere I had never been. The two of us got into a rickshaw. Even after leaving the book table, my mind was still stuck on Swapnashish's cricket bat. The rickshaw pulled us along toward that unknown world. I asked Joyonto several times where we were going. He wouldn't say anything, just said, "Come on man, you'll see!" Gradually the rickshaw came and stopped in front of house number 14, block 4, Dhanmondi Road 2. We got down from the rickshaw, took the lift and Joyonto pressed 6. Flat number six-B. As soon as the doorbell rang, a gentleman named Robin, presumably over forty, opened the door and called us inside. I understood that Joyonto had spoken with him on the phone while we were coming in the rickshaw. The flat was furnished with cane furniture. Touches of taste and tidiness everywhere. Entering the flat, I saw Akshay Kumar mercilessly punching Shakti Kapoor and just kept on punching! Punch after punch until his nose and mouth were split and bloody, a complete mess! Zee Cinema was playing on the 32-inch TV. Thump thwack!
I saw that Joyonto was now grinning mischievously. I really couldn't understand anything. Robin saheb shook hands with us. Pointing to me, Joyonto said, "Yes, that's Rakib. I was telling you about him." Robin saheb was very amiable, gentle, modest. A little over five and a half feet tall, cloudy complexion, pockmarks on his face, eyes that seemed somehow sunken into their sockets, henna-dyed graying hair. I whispered in friend's ear, "Friend, exactly why did we come here, explain it to me a bit!" The answer I got was, "Come on, just see!" Meanwhile snacks had arrived. Lemon juice, cake, apples, chips.
Now breaking all the kingdom's mysteries, Joyonto said, "There are fairies here, man, fairies! You'll spend time with fairies, have pleasure, have fun, pay money." I understood that prostitution operates in this flat. Realizing where I had come, my entire world was crumbling in shame and embarrassment! A little later I was glancing here and there. Trying to see who lives in this kingdom. What's really happening here! I saw that the flat had three bedrooms. Side by side. We went and stood in front of the first room, along with Robin saheb and Joyonto. There, three girls were sitting on the bed. Smiles on their faces. Those smiles were largely imposed. Seeing us, they stood up and greeted us. One of them had been sitting with her head down, my eyes had gone to her first. The other two were relatively more at ease. The room wasn't very tidy. It seemed only the drawing room was neat.
I noticed one thing. In that house Joyonto was quite natural, there was no hesitation in him. He knew those who were there too, talking with them with great laughter. He seemed to know the rooms as well. I understood that he comes here regularly. I was shrinking with embarrassment and fear. I was thinking, where have I come? What if the police come now? What if they blackmail us? What if there are hidden cameras here? God knows what else was coming to my mind. I was staring at the floor, counting the tiles very carefully so that there would be no mistake... as if all the answers to mysteries were there, all solutions to problems were there!
I had meanwhile started calling Robin saheb "Robin bhai." There was an elderly woman in that flat, she was doing the household chores. Coming to Joyonto with a big smile, she said, "Son, you'll have to give me a hundred taka today! You forgot to give fifty yesterday." There was a young boy there, running various errands. Robin bhai came to me. Seeing me, he perhaps understood a bit what kind of storm was raging inside me. He said, "Brother, everything in this world has a first time. You haven't done it before, now you will, what's the problem? You won't die from doing this, right? After today you'll see, a kind of confidence will grow in you. And don't be so afraid, your privacy won't be hampered. There's no security problem either. You can enjoy without fear. There's nothing so shameful about it. You'll do this sooner or later anyway, right? Don't take offense, we're like friends... frankly speaking, in this world, when the lights go off, all men are sons of pigs! As long as there's light, men are good only that long. The man who can keep his head straight when he sees a woman is either a great soul or a eunuch. I'm speaking from experience! I've seen a lot, brother!"
I realized the man was a broker for this line of work. Robin Bhai went on, "Brother, I've been in this line for many years. I'm a pimp. Some of my clients call me MD Sir out of affection! That's my code name! Don't you get it? Ha ha ha! This is my original business. All my other ventures started from this. I have a share in a petrol pump, own a restaurant, and have some money in the stock market. That's it! Allah has kept me well! No want or need, though there was a time when there was plenty. So much hardship, you understand? I lived for days on just bread and water!"
He became somewhat absent-minded again. It seemed old memories were churning in his head. I asked, "How did you get into this line?" Returning from his reverie, he began to speak: "There was a time when I didn't have even two taka in my pocket. I was studying at university then. Third year, I think. Wandering around, I met a big brother. The man was good—he'd give me money from time to time, treat me to biryani at Chan Khar Pool. Back then I was a poor man, brother—whoever gave me money was good for me. But I realized after a while that his character wasn't particularly admirable, though he had good money in hand. What does it matter if someone with money has good character or bad? The saying is the same—even that poor man has to beg from the rich man. If some dependent son-of-a-bitch starts lecturing me about character, I feel like grabbing him and slapping him around!"
Anyway, that man was first-class as a human being. Good-hearted, open-handed type of fellow. When someone was in trouble, whether anyone else came or not, Kabir Bhai would definitely show up! Brother, every month he'd give money to poor people. So one day that brother offered me to come into this line. The man was good—even if you go to hell with a good man, it's still good. I agreed. Staying with him, I learned the trade. No investment needed, just courage and you have to become shameless. The earnings are quite good too. You can't take anything anyone says to heart, and you can't trust anyone. These are the two fundamental principles of this business. And one more thing. I've had an experience since coming into this line. Ninety-eight point five percent of the men in this world have no character to speak of. The rest are mostly coward's eggs! Those who look like proper gentlemen—put them in the right place and you'll see their real face. You can't recognize people in the light; you have to recognize them in the dark. Ha ha ha..."
Later I started the business myself. I rented a small flat. Whatever the rent for that flat was, my rent was twelve hundred taka more than that. Again, I had to give extra money to the caretaker and gatekeeper. For every guest who came to my flat, I had to give them fifty taka each. Mentioning my name and flat number, they wouldn't need to make entries in the register book. Now come to what the story was about arranging girls. You're not my competitor, so there's no harm in telling you. From staying with that big brother, I already knew the contacts of some girls. Most of them were poor; some weren't poor but did the work for extra money. With that money they fulfilled various kinds of desires. Brother, they travel Dhaka-Chittagong by plane, won't wear a dress under ten-twelve thousand taka, use MAC company cosmetics. Think about it—quite good, isn't it? Rather than staying free in the name of love with someone day after day and then suffering after a breakup, isn't it better to do the same work in this line, earn money and live happily? What love-shove? It's all scheming to get free meals! I tell the girls—rather than giving it free in the name of love, give it in exchange for money; that's much better. Love happens in this world only to break up. Sleeping with one person a hundred times or sleeping with a hundred people one time each—it's the same story! If the first doesn't work out, it's a total loss; in the second, there's no question of working out or not... it's all profit! Of course, this is my personal observation.
There are some girls who study—they have to pay their own semester fees and pocket money, and support their families too. Then there are girls who can't find jobs anywhere, but have no one else to run the family. There are many such girls engaged in this part-time profession. There are girls from many schools, colleges, and universities in this line. They need money, they're not begging from anyone, they're selling their beauty and youth. Quite honorable, really, when you think about it. The society that gives you big lectures—when you're in trouble, that same society won't help you with even one taka. I used to seek out such girls. Many would voluntarily seek me out too. You get links to other girls from one girl. You also get information about many girls from guests. Girls are very happy when you get them good, wealthy, generous clients. There are some girls who do this just to enjoy. If they don't like a guest's looks or figure, they won't sleep with them even if offered crores. There are many models, many actresses in this line—they're in my network! But their rates are much higher; they don't work just anywhere; you have to take them to good, secure places. Arranging normal girls is no big deal, but arranging beautiful young girls isn't easy. Anyway, that's how I came into this business.
I understood—the honorable MD Sir Robin Bhai was a very "humanitarian" person. He was helping many girls, in various ways.
Robin Bhai called the three girls to the drawing room. Just before they came, he gave us some encouragement: "Brother, Joynt Da knows about me. I have connections with many high-level people in the administration. Though I'm a small man, I can manage everything. Police are no problem either—many big police officers are my regular clients." They came. The three girls sat on the sofa directly opposite us. One of them wasn't looking at us; she was busy with her mobile, probably chatting on messenger. She was smiling a little at something. This was the same girl who had been sitting with her head down in the room. Robin Bhai came very close to me and, pointing to her, whispered in my ear: "Bhaiya, this girl is new to this line, absolutely fresh. Take her—she came just a month and a half or two months ago. You'll enjoy it, and her service is very good too. Very decent girl, no client has any complaints about her. Not regular—she does very few programs, knows good studies too." I listened to Robin Bhai's words in a daze. He pressed two packets into my hand and continued: "You may not want to use the packets if you wish, no problem. She's absolutely fresh, so there's no trouble, but it's better to use them. The demand is a bit high—you can see she's young, tall, slim, beautiful." He was saying all this in front of the three girls. Looking at the girls, it seemed these words weren't novel to them.
I raised my eyes and looked directly at the girl. She was staring at me steadily, a gentle smile spread across her face. Joyonto and Robin Bhai could see a call girl, but I could see two large, elongated eyes full of untold stories, unspoken words, scattered pain. Those eyes were saying so much silently, without spending a single word. The girl had a round face, slim figure, raw yellow-tinged skin color, quite tall. To tell the truth, I liked what I saw immediately. I wanted to have this girl for myself, but I didn't want to accept her as public property. In this shameful quarter, being beautiful was the greatest qualification. The second qualification was having everything that should be in a woman's body in full measure. That body had to have all the elements to satisfy a man's hunger.
Robin Bhai gestured for the girls to go back to the room. All three of them returned to the first room. I requested Robin Bhai to step away a bit. He went to the veranda and started talking to someone on his mobile. Joyonto came to me and said, "Friend, that beautiful girl you saw—let her be your share today, I'll take the one in blue." I gripped his hand and said, "Dost, let me off today. I really can't do it, my heart isn't agreeing. You take that girl and enter the room, I'll wait here. Please!" "Oh come on, bastard! Enjoy!" he said, releasing my hand and cheerfully, in a buoyant mood, whistling, he wrapped his arm around the waist of one of the remaining two and entered a room. Robin Bhai returned and took me to what he called the "VIP room." He said, "Brother, you have those two packets in your pocket, right? Tell me if you need more, you can tell her too, I'll slip packets under the door. But it's your first time, so two should be enough. Still, there's something called by-chance." I listened to Robin Bhai's words like a robot, just nodding and shaking my head this way and that, agreeing with his words.
Within three minutes of entering the room, the girl knocked on the door, called out "I'm coming!" and pushed her way in. Though I smiled and said "Hello!" when I looked at her, I almost immediately started sweating. Such embarrassment, such embarrassment! I saw it was quite a well-appointed, beautiful bedroom. An AC room with a big LED TV, a made-up bed, tissue box on the bed, fresh towels. I went to the bathroom. There I found new soap, shampoo, shower gel, liquid soap, disposable toothbrush, toothpaste, toilet tissue. Everything was there, just right. The room had air freshener, Good Night's mosquito liquid vaporizer plugged into the socket. I went and sat curled up in one corner of the bed. I must have looked like a newly-wed bride. I pulled the bedsheet lying beside me up to my chest. Here and there, toward the girl, toward nowhere in particular—instead I stared fixedly ahead at the TV placed in front. The TV remote was in my hand. I was watching the Animal Planet channel with great interest. I never watch this channel in my life, but today I found it quite enjoyable. It seemed like how had I lived all these years without watching Animal Planet! A herd of elephants was running somewhere. I was deeply worried. Where do they go? Why do they go? And why do they run? What's wrong with walking? What's all this running about? Amazing!
From the corner of my eye I noticed the girl was probably Facebooking on her phone and glancing at me from time to time. It was winter, the AC was off, the fan was running, and tiny beads of sweat covered my entire body. She got up from the sofa and came to sit right beside me on the bed. I moved away and sat a little farther from her, focusing more intently on the TV. Now a tiger was chasing some deer, and the tiger caught one of them. Complete bloodshed! I got excited—how does a tiger tear apart and eat a deer? Why hadn't I seen this before? Strange, very strange!...The girl was probably thinking I'd come to this room just to watch TV. My TV at home had broken down, so I'd come here. I'd turned away from her and was watching TV with undivided attention. The funny thing was, I'm someone who doesn't even watch TV. But today this TV-watching craze had seized me!
Suddenly, interrupting my cherished TV viewing, the girl spoke up: "Hello, mister!" I jumped as if startled from meditation and immediately stammered back, "Hi!" After giving that response, I was looking at the TV again. This went on for about 10-15 minutes. She listened to three songs. Two by Atif Aslam, one by Sonu Nigam. I felt like a complete fool. I couldn't figure out exactly what to say, how to begin. Silence seemed best at this time. CNN was now on TV—some protesters had taken to the streets in the United States over some health policy of the American President. They were shouting loudly. I felt sorry for the President. Poor guy!
The girl broke the silence again. In a very confident tone, she said, "Sir, should I take off my clothes? Do you have any special demands?"...Hearing her words, I jumped up with a start! Looking directly at the girl, I said, "Stop! You don't need to do anything. Watch TV! Come, let's watch TV together, okay?"
I saw she had a very sweet face, couldn't be more than twenty or twenty-one perhaps...there was a mole on the left side of her cheek, her eyes heavily lined with kohl, her thin lips painted with light pink lipstick...like the petals of a freshly bloomed rose. The girl's golden eyes kept glancing at me repeatedly. Her long hair, reaching almost to her waist, was flowing this way and that in the slow fan's breeze. The front strands kept touching her eyes, nose, and cheeks before moving away. Her complexion was like raw turmeric, as if painted with all the colors of the kingdom. Around her neck was a necklace of golden beads or pearls. On her wrist, a golden bracelet. Right in the center of her forehead, a black dot over the red bindi. She wore a solid black, thin georgette sari with a low-cut red blouse. In that black sari wrapped around her snake-like slender body, I could see a play of countless colors. She looked like a butterfly—as if you could just attach two wings and she'd fly away to some distant flower garden. The girl was looking at her phone, biting her lip, some irritation visible on her face.
Meanwhile, my fascination kept growing. This was the first time I'd observed the girl so carefully. Seeing this beauty, these eyes, these cheeks, these lips, this form, she seemed like a freshly bloomed flame tree flower in a garden. I wondered, why is this girl here too! Why did she have to come here! I kept sweating. I got up and turned off the fan, set the temperature to 27, and turned on the AC.
Breaking through my enchanted state, the girl spoke up. "Sir, it's been almost 40 minutes, you can start your work." Saying this, she busily pulled her sari's veil away from her chest and began unbuttoning her blouse. "Sir, are you new to this line? Look, you can't be so shy in this place. Save all this shyness and decency to put in your pocket for after you leave here. Not being shy is the rule here, being indecent is ordinary decency here. Shy, genteel men come here to take off their masks and return with faces restored. Do you understand, or not? My figure is quite good, look, you'll like it."
Taking out my handkerchief and wiping the sweat from my forehead, I looked away from the girl toward a corner of the room and, embarrassed and bewildered, requested her not to remove her blouse. She stopped. She pulled the sari's veil over her half-open chest. I saw her now looking at me with wide-eyed astonishment, as if all the world's wonder was painted in her eyes. "What do you mean? What do you want to do? Won't you do the program with me? Don't you like me? Should I send someone else?"
I'm a chocolate lover. I always have chocolate in my pocket. Taking out a Snickers from my pocket, I extended it toward her with trembling hands and said, "Here, eat this Snickers." She reached out and almost snatched the chocolate I offered, threw it angrily onto the carpet in front of us, and came a little closer to me with sharp eyes, saying, "Hey, are you fooling around with me? Am I your girlfriend? Or are you scheming to eat for free next time? Have you come here to make love, or to waste my time? Get in line, brother. I'm a very good player. Play, you'll enjoy it. Play and leave. Game over, goodbye! That's it! Stop the act. However many shots you want to take, take them. If you have sexual problems, you can even cuddle and hold each other. No problem. But the account settles when you're out. One out means one shot finished! I have other guests besides you. I have to go to other places. Robin bhai will give a missed call in a little while. Start your work. Do what you came to do."