It was a cold and shivering night on the last day of December in Anno Domini 1980. A young and frail woman in tattered clothes stood at the edge of the water of the Kumortuli Bathing Ghat on the banks of the River Hooghly in India’s Calcutta city. Close to her tormented bosom, she held tightly her three-day-old newborn baby. Ragini had taken the cruel decision of leaving her infant girl on the riverbank at the mercy of the Mother Goddess Ganges. She believed that a tortured and bonded prostitute should never raise a girl child. She thought that it was perhaps better for her baby to die in the river than grow up on the streets of Asia’s largest red-light district.
Located on the eastern banks of the River Hooghly in North Calcutta, between Sovabazar and Beadon Street, with hundreds of multi-storey brothels housing over fifty thousand Nepali, Assamese, Bihari, and Bengali flesh-workers, Sonagachi was like a small city within a larger metropolis.
In Bengali, Sonagachi meant ‘tree of gold,’ though no gold or any tree had to do anything with the name. A legend stated that during the early days of the city, a notorious dacoit by the name of Sanaulla and his old mother lived in the vicinity. The bandit was religious and benevolent, helping the poor and oppressed to the best of his abilities.
On the bandit’s death, his grieving mother heard her son’s voice coming from inside their hut, saying “Mother, don’t cry, I have become a Gazi” – an instrument of Allah, a servant of God who purifies the earth from polytheism and spreads Islam. The mother built a mosque in memory of her son giving birth to the legend of Sona Gazi. Thousands flocked to the mosque to be cured of various ailments or with prayers for a better life.
After the mother’s demise, the mosque gradually fell out of use and disappeared altogether. Though today one can visit the ‘Darga of Sanaullah Gazi’ here, experts say that the current structure is not the original mosque. Innumerable arbitrary renovations undertaken on the existing Darga further made it impossible to be identified as the original house of worship. Though the actual mosque perhaps did not survive, it is what gave the neighbouring ‘Masjid Bari Street’ its name while the dacoit turned saint Sanaullah Gazi or Sona Gazi’s name became Sonagachi – the name of the locality.
Thanks to the Portuguese, Armenians and other foreign sea voyagers, investors, entrepreneurs and explorers, several large markets and businesses operated in the neighbouring region of Chitpur much before the arrival of the British. Being a port district made this easily possible. Further, the locality standing on the edge of an ancient pilgrim road, which much later in history became Rabindra Sarani, attracted the multitudes. This constant inflow and outflow of pilgrims, buyers & sellers of various goods, sailors, foreigners, and business folks turned Sonagachi into a convenient pitstop to satisfy carnal fantasies.
A maze of streets, lanes, and bylanes of varying width intersected each other. Rows of unplanned and even illegally constructed houses with suggestive names such as ‘Prem Kuthir’ or ‘House of Love,’ on both sides of the roads, dominated this Labrinth of urban topography.
Skimpily clad over-decked women with tacky jewellery and cheap makeup covering the bruises on their skin hung their soggy bosoms from the balconies inviting potential customers and wobbly drunkards wading through the streets. Preying pimps tugged on passing men and lured them into the dimly lit rooms of the gloomy houses and dark alleys to haggle over the price for the right kind of gender and age to satisfy their unspeakable needs.
From pan (betel leaf) and cigarette counters to food stalls to shops of different kinds, everything was available 24×7 inside this mini-city of neon lights. From flower peddlers to drug pushers, from street swindlers to drunken brawlers, from cops to robbers, from males, females, to eunuchs, from gays, lesbians to bisexuals, one could find every type in this boiling cauldron of humankind. While the rest of the city slumbered with the setting sun and woke up at the break of dawn or slowed down for a holiday, the hustle and bustle in Sonagachi never failed to seize for a moment.
Here the life of a young cyprian was laced with unimaginable torture and atrocities. From the moment a girl or a woman was brought into one of these houses, her body was broken many times during the night and in the day by different men. This continued till she became accustomed to the sight, smell and feel of an unknown person and ready to satisfy any carnal desire with a smile on her face.
Here the life of a child was much worse than its mother’s, and that of a girl child was especially precarious. Exploitation and torture began at an early age. Ragini was one of those prostitute mothers unwilling to raise a daughter in this dreadful and filthy environment.
In the silver light of the full moon night, the baby drifted away in a shoebox on the still and glassy river surface as her mother turned and walked away. Her slow-moving thin silhouette vanished into the dazzle of a filthy bylane.
While at Sonagachi, carnally starved men and flesh addicts ravaged on the feminine form, just in the neighbouring locality of Kumortuli, communities of potters and earthen craftsmen made mud idols of Hindu gods and goddesses to be worshipped at pujas and religious festivals all over the city. The two localities were twin colonies yet at the opposite ends of the spectrum of piety.
Just like the brothel colony, Kumortuli was also a maze of streets and alleyways, however, instead of flesh goddesses housed to be ravished, its windows, doors, and balconies displayed clay deities for religious worship. While at Sonagachi, men ventured to satisfy their certain physical needs, at Kumartuli they went for their religious creed.
The East India Company’s, decisive win over Siraj-ud-Daulah, the Nawab of Bengal, and his French allies at the Battle of Plassey in 1757, opened the gateway for British colonisation of Bengal and India. Three years after the battle in 1760, John Zephaniah Holwell, the temporary Governor of Bengal, allocated separate districts to the Company’s workmen, such as Suripara – the place for wine sellers, Collotollah – locality to the oilmen, Chuttarparah – for the carpenters, Aheeritollah – vicinity of the cowherds, and finally Coomartolly – the porters’ quarters.
Initially, the porters of Kumortuli started by making pots and pans of clay from the mud of the river Hooghly. As the years passed, they gradually shifted to making idols of gods and goddesses, which were worshipped in the rich mansions and the communal Puja Pandals all over the city.
Bhokto Pal could see the dazzling silver moon in the heavens from under the surface of the water. As he ascended from the depths of the river during one of his nightly bathing dives, he saw the silhouette of a rectangular box drifting above on the glassy surface in contrast to the illuminated goddess Luna of the nocturnal sky. The nightly bathing ritual helped him cool down the burning flames of desire which flowed through his unsatisfied body.
The man was extremely shy and unimaginably ugly. In the past four decades of his existence, he could never sum up the courage to woo any woman’s hand. Further, his abhorring looks and crooked physiques did not do anything to help. Everyone pitied his unsatisfied life and mocked his ugliness. He longed to be with a woman but could not even muster the courage to visit any of the neighbouring brothels.
Disgustingly the closest he ever got to the female form was when he moulded idols of the goddesses. He was not religious but was utterly ashamed of himself when at times he felt the fire burning inside while laying and caressing moist clay to build a deity’s feminine form.
That night the forty-year-old bachelor idol maker from Kumortuli found a bastard infant girl from Sonagachi drifting in a shoebox on the still waters of the river Hooghly. He named her Lokhee after the goddess of wealth, fortune, power, prosperity, and beauty.
By the age of fifteen, the girl grew up to be healthy, beautiful, and always spotting a smile. Those who were kind and gentle loved and admired her. Those who were evil and lusty craved for her. A tempest of contradictions even raged inside Bhokto’s mind. He was uncertain about his relationship with Lokhee. On one hand, he had raised her as a father and on the other, he felt torn with jealousy when other men looked at her. He loved her, there was no doubt about that but whether as a daughter or something other, that even to him was not clear.
“Where is Lokhee Bhokto kaka, she has not come to school for the past seven days,” enquired one of the girl’s friends along with a bunch of other teenagers at the idol makers doorstep. “I don’t know where she is. The ungrateful wench seems to have left me and fled with some ruffian. Isn’t that what girls of your age nowadays do,” answered the sad and ugly man without looking at the girls while applying coats of clay on the human-size idol of a goddess.
Bhokto completed the idol of the goddess in just ten days. No one had ever known him to finish a deity in such a short time. It seemed he did not eat or sleep during the entire duration of sculpting. Like a mad man lost over the loss of a loved one, he just kept on working till the idol was complete. After a buyer took the idol away, Bhokto retreated into a life of melancholy and seclusion. He was not the same man anymore.
“Did you read this horrifying news in today’s paper? During an ongoing puja ceremony in a pandal not very far from here, the face of the goddess just broke and fell, revealing a dead girl hidden inside. The cops have arrested the idol maker,” said a prostitute to another while reading the newspaper and drinking her morning tea standing on the balcony of a brothel in Sonagachi.
Handing over the newspaper to her frail companion, she added, “the paper has even published a picture, and the weirdest thing is that the face of the dead girl encased inside the idol of goddess Lakshmi looks exactly like you, my friend.”
Copyright © 2022 TRISHIKH DASGUPTA
This work of fiction, written by Trishikh Dasgupta is the author’s sole intellectual property. Some characters, incidents, places, and facts may be real while some fictitious. All rights are reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including printing, photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, send an email to the author at trishikh@gmail.com or get in touch with Trishikh on the CONTACT page of this website.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Trishikh Dasgupta
Adventurer, philosopher, writer, painter, photographer, craftsman, innovator, or just a momentary speck in the universe flickering to leave behind a footprint on the sands of time... READ MORE
Weekend Stories by Trishikh 
Amazing, interesting story Trishikh, Thanks for share!
Have a wonderful time!
Elvira
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Thank you so much Elvira. Always a pleasure to receive your appreciation.
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Thank you Trishikh. I t’s my pleassure too.
Take care
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You are most welcome.
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Thank you.
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And thank you for your support always.
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It gives me great pleasure to visit your blog too.
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I appreciate it. Thanks.
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Feeding on the female body is an old system that has not changed for centuries, the most despicable form of exploitation and unfortunately the girl left in the river does not change her fate and returns to find her mother with a bitter end.
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Yes, unfortunately flesh trade is one of the oldest trades. Certainly despicable and inhuman. Not all outcomes are as per our desire. Sometimes we do not like the outcomes, this is something, I also wanted to strongly convey through this story of mine.
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Very interesting read…. clearly depicting the contrast in our society….words and beliefs not aligning with Karma..
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Yes, Piyush, sadly contrasts do exist in our society. Sometimes I wonder whether such places are required to maintain a balance in society. Whatever the case Karma certainly will get us, that I too believe in.
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Thank you so much for always being so supportive and appreciative of my writing.
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Reblogged this on Ned Hamson’s Second Line View of the News.
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Thank you so much Ned for reblogging this story of mine – A tale of twin localities in Calcutta. At one they worshipped goddesses of flesh and at the other the deities of mud and clay. Good and evil both both live with and within the very fabric of humankind.
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My goodness. The same thing her mother ultimately was trying to avoid happening. Happened anyway maybe if she would have just kept her a different path would have been aligned for mother and child.
This was horrible yet an amazing read well put together!
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Very true, I wrote this story a bit on the morbid side. Sometimes life is hard and unjust, and I wanted to bring that out. Not all stories have a hero and a happy ending.
Thank you for your lovely comment. I really treasure it.
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Very true. Blessings
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Thank you so much. Love and blessings to you and your family too.
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This heartbreaking story, Trishikh, is as beautiful as it is terrifying, proof of the mastery of your writing. It is so well constructed that the ending takes your breath away. Thank you.
Joanna
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Dear Joanna, so glad that you think so high of this story. Yes I too am much satisfied with the ending. Somehow as always things just worked out.
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You are welcome.
Joanna
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Great story. As always, captivating. Once you start reading, you cannot stop. Well done.
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Thank you so much Michael. Am glad that you find my story captivating. Nothing gives me greater joy, than receiving a good appreciation.
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You deserve it. Keep the stories coming.
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Will do my best Michael.
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Just to tell you that Deepak Sharma would like to be a writer and I gave him some advice privately. I would not have time to edit his writing but I did correct one paragraph. Perhaps, he was expecting more since he didn’t come back.
Joanna
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Okay. I also try to give as much as writing advice as possible.
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The prayer house
is in us
in the dialogue
with the soul
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I too believe it, that our soul is where God resides, if we want him to stay there.
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The soul
and the spirit
is in us
not out there
the unapproachable
must us humans
remain a secret
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Deep, very deep, and thought provoking.
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Your righteous indignation brings particular heat to this poignant story, and, I believe, carries some of your strongest writing to date. A painful tale on a topic that is a worldwide scourge, though the coverage and willingness of societies to address it are woefully inadequate. Excellent work!
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Dear Annie, I too think this is one of my boldest stories. I completely agree with you on society not taking a strong stand against this structured system of atrocity. We are unwilling to douse the fire until it burns our own skin and kin.
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This was such a disturbing read for me, yet I’m sure that was the desired effect by you, Trishikh.
The narrative was gripping. Distressing for sure but such stories need to be told and read.
Keep writing and sharing
Best wishes, Harshi
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Dear Harish, as you have rightly observed, writing this story was tormenting to me too, but truth needs to be told. While I have showcased so many shades of Kolkata in my different stories, I strongly felt that this side needed to be told too. This story is also a reminder that every tale cannot have a happy ending, bad things do happen, at times there are no heroes, and sometimes we cannot comprehend the will of God. Thank you so much for your lovely comment. I treasure it from the bottom of my heart.
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Harshi 😦
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Blundering Typhoons, a grave typo Harshi, hate the auto correct feature. 😭
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Completely agree with you and you have done a wonderful job!
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Thank you Harshi.
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Brilliant and disturbing, an engaging combination!
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Thank you so much Bob, yes disturbing indeed.
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Thanks for sharing another wonderfully penned tale. Happy Writing.
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Thank you so much Goff for being a constant support to my writing. I treasure your encouragement.
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Pleasure. A great story.
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The pleasure is equally mine.
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Chees. Happy Monday, Trishikh.
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sad but a thought-provoking story well woven for a great read!
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Yes, this story did come out very sad and grey. It shows the existence of both good and evil both within us, and sometimes evil takes the better of us. I thank you for your comment. It gives me great joy to receive appreciation.
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The best thing with your stories is the end, that has an element of surprise. This story is not an exception. It keeps one captivated till the end. So many human emotions come into play. The characters of all the three, Ragini, Lokhee and Bhokto have been well conceptualised. An interesting read, Trishikh!
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Dear KK, your comments always gives me such great joy. I try my best to create an unexpected ending. Yes, this story has a lot of emotions, many underlying thoughts and philosophies. Its a depiction of the chaotic human too, one can say. You always love my characters, and I am thankful for that.
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You’re always welcome 😊
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Like how i wait each weekend for your amazing stories!! Excellent as always
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Am glad Arpita to be able to bring forth these stories. Your appreciation means a lot.
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Your stories run the gamut from love to sadness to the tortured soul. I travel far from my home to read them. and it often takes me awhile to get back to my quiet corner. I always learn something. I treasure the experience! Very good story once again. (and I am still digesting!)
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Reading your touching comment at the start of the day brings a streak of smile on my face. It tells me that my stories are contributing to this world. I am glad that my breadcrumbs of knowledge appeals to you. I always want to share knowledge, that’s the only way in which I can grow my own. This is perhaps one of the most serious stories that I have written till date. It delves too deep into the human mind. Well! Have to start writing the next one for the next weekend, amidst all the rigmarole of work pressure and family commitments. Thank you for being a constant support.
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I’m not sure how to respond to this story. Did the idol maker kill the young girl. It is such a tragedy in our present world how exploited and controlled women are in all societies. Even in the US, the entire anti abortion movement isn’t at truth concerned about the child….as if so, there would be more support for feeding, educating and caring for that child once born. It isn’t about sex…..as viagra is paid for by insurances and yet women struggle to get birth control and medical support for their female body health concerns. It is all about how to control women. It is part of why I work so hard everyday to bring about change in this world.
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Dear Katelon, writing this story was also not easy for me. In the past I have portrayed so many colourful side of my “City Of Joy” Kolkata, so I was thinking whether I should uphold this dark side. However, I always believe that the first step to fight against evil, is to accept it’s existence and practice. I too have worked for “Anti human trafficking” programmes in the past, and it grieves me greatly to see how age old systems and structures have been devised to control women. I salute you for dedicating your life to such a noble cause of uplifting the afflicted. I am filled with admiration.
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Thank you Trishikh. I have learned to face the darkness too in my 40 year therapy practice, life long activism and this spiritual work I’ve done for 7 + years as a warrior.
Thanks for all you’ve done as well.
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It gives me great joy to meet someone whose heart is filled with light. Best of luck to you for your noble cause.
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I am residing here in ignorance, in a simple but comfortable, somewhat uneventful existence, more by choice than by necessity, while contemplating your story. It is not because we do not know of such situations of injustice and brutality, it is because we know and still continue with our lives of ignorance and selfishness that I want to scream.
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You have very rightly pointed this out. Believe me there are many respectable people who live in these areas too. At the fringe of it – and they also have come to accept it. Though prostitution in India is illegal, it’s unbelievable to see the scale and spread of Sonagachi, the largest red-light district in Asia. Many want to do something, but do not know how. I think what all of us can do is spread awareness, and ofcourse not encourage and engage in using such services. Thank you for your thoughtful comment. I always look forward to hear from you.
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Wow! What an amazing story! Thank you!
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Thank you Dawn. Always look forward to your comment. You have always been a great encourager.
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My pleasure, Trishikh!
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This is not “a short story”, it’s “a long & larger” reality. For its significance, I would rate it 10 stars. The story highlights the highest value of being a mother and her love.
As you say, it was your motive, to show the darker side of Kolkata city — let people be aware of the complex society — where some voices are always ignored or suppressed.
Your purpose was fulfilled. It’s a success story. The voices should not be ignored or suppressed. And them freely live their life. Because in a democracy everyone is equal (has a right to live).
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Dear Lokesh, as always – reading you comment not only gives me great joy, but kindles a feeling of achievement.
I do not know whether I deserve 10 stars, but I accept it from you with great honour.
Yes, we need to discuss about the wrongs as well. Then only can we better ourselves.
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Thank you so much for promoting my story in your blog.
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Bonjour
Mon petit passage du jour pour venir te dire bonjour, j y dépose ma petite image pleine de bonheur pour réchauffer ton cœur pour passer une agréable journée…
Amitié bise Bernard
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Thank you Bernard.
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Shocking end… a dark tale from the darkest corner of “city of joy”.
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Dear Debashis, this is indeed one of the sad realities of our beloved city.
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Amazing story as usual
Well done friend!
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Thank you so much. Appreciate your beautiful comment.
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Astonishing story! It felt so real, can’t imagine it to be a fiction. Waiting for another breathtaking one.
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Thank you Anamika. All my writing would not be possible without your constant support.
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The ירידות הדורות curse defines g’lut Jewry. Examples of this Torah curse, they flourish like daisies on a Spring day. But a general statement, as expressed comparable to the opening thesis statement here, requires qualifying particulars. Its the latter which separates a Torah תוכחה\\rebuke// from religious rhetoric//propaganda. Therefore the theme of the current discussion which this blog introduces shall make the codification of the תרי”ג Commandments made popular in Reshonim codes which categorized the 613 into 248 positive and 365 negative commandments. Publication of these codes produced a domino effect that cursed the Jewish people to this very day.
Mitzvot commandments define Torat Moshe … the Torah revelation. Not till about 6 Centuries after Rav Ashi and Rav Ravina sealed the Talmud Bavli, did rabbis representing g’lut Jewry first start their attempts to organize the commandments into nice & tidy codes. Torah functions as Common Law expressed through the discipline of comparing commandments as precedents to make a depth analysis of other Torah commandments. The concept of opposing Yatzirot, as learned by Rabbi Yechudah Ha’Nasi in ברכות, this interpretation learns from the story of Adam Ha’Reshon eating fruit produced by the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.
Rabbi Yechudah interpreted the incorrect spelling of לבבך\\לבבכם as expressed in the opening first two paragraphs of the Mitzvah דאורייתא of kre’a shma. This later mitzva serves as the foundation upon which stands all avodat HaShem as expressed through the mitzva of tefillah. Torah mitzvot commandments compare to braids of a woman with long hair. Mitzvot commandments, when braided together, they give a depth dimension to the 2 dimensional single hair strands.
Torah Common Law radically differs from statutory\religious law which the Reshonim codifications of the תרי”ג Commandments, their false scholarship foisted upon the Jewish people. This pathetic era, 950 – 1400 CE, wherein virtually all rabbis kissed, and made love with that foreign alien woman of Torah faith — her name “Assimilation”. With all general statements, exists exceptions to the rule. The French Ashkenazi Rashi\\Tosafot school of Torah scholarship more successfully fought off the seductive kisses, whereby that foreign alien woman sought to seduce g’lut Jewry. Alas the Rambam Civil War, several of its most terrible consequences — the total destruction of the Rashi\\Tosafot school of T’NaCH & Talmudic scholarship, followed by the forced imprisonment of Western Jewry into Ghetto prisons; the forced mass population transfer of Jews unto Eastern Europe, primarily unto Poland.
Sephardi, primarily assimilated Spanish rabbis, their clout and influence dominated both that pathetic era of T’NaCH and Talmudic scholarship, as well as the current era – the Acharonim scholars – whose “dark light” dominates the Yeshiva world to this very day. Common Law does not function in any way comparable to statutory law, religious law; the former expressed through lateral courtroom legal rulings … whereas the latter rests upon the יסוד of cults of personality…. Jews keep the halachah simply because Karo ruled a halacha; which he codified within his Shulchan Aruch. The authority of Yosef Karo among Traditional Jewry, it compares to that which JeZeus & Paul lords over Xtians.
Statutory & religious law often expressed through codifications and dogmatism. Both this and that do not require Oral Torah logic formats, whereby both T’NaCH, Talmud, and Midrashim all most essentially require. Once the Sephardi assimilated Spanish rabbis, that ‘golden and silver Age’, that tumah reigned supreme, Jews ceased to study Talmud to learn Oral Torah logic. The assimilated replacement theology organized the Torah – Talmud into cubes of religious subjects of rigid law. Something like extinct dinosaurs bones fossilized into stone. Comparable to the false picture made famous by Cecil B. DeMille, which has Moshe descend from Sinai carrying two tablets of stone with the 10 commandments.
שמות לב:טו — ושני לחת העדת בידו, לחת כתבים משני עבריהם מזה ומזה הם כתבים
Not just DeMille read this p’suk making a literal reading of its words, but virtually every beit knesset which holds the Safer Torah, employs this childish and foolish imagery. Torah prophets command mussar. To learn and understand Torah mussar commandments requires the Oral Torah פרדס logic system of learning; by and through – other Torah commandments learned as precedents. This critical sugia of the Written Torah שמות לב:טו – לה, requires the law of Common Law and not statutory law or religious law to grasp its mussar rebuke unto the generations of bnai brit Israel alone. Goyim reject to this day the revelation of the Written and Oral Torah @ Sinai and Horev respectively.
Therefore the intent of this specific blog, purposes to learn this critical sugia of the Chumash through the משנה תורה של דברים\\The Book of Deuteronomy…לשמה…the first Commandment of the Sinai revelation. This conversion\perversion/ of Common law unto statutory & religious law, this avodah zarah effectively מחני נא מספרך אשר כתבת//it expunges Moshe from the Book of Life.
The discipline of Oral Torah Common Law learns the Written Torah strictly and only by means of comparing other Torah precedents. The 5th Book of the Written Torah, specifically composed by Moshe the prophet on the last day of his life. This last book of Aggaditah serves to “braid” the other commandments located in the other Books of the Torah, with the purpose — to interpret the depth of the Torah commandments located within the first four Books of the Torah codification.
Common law Talmudic scholars debate over precedents presented by both the prosecutor and defense judges. Herein explains the ‘Difficulty\Answer’ style of the Sha’s Gemarah. Middot have a common translation as measurements. Therefore first, intend to introduce a less precise sugia precedent learned from the משנה תורה and then compare and contrast that distant precedent with a closer more precise precedent.
דברים ז:יז – כו compares and with another slightly distant precedent: דברים יב: כט – יג: ו. These slightly distant precedents, they none the less serve as powerful precedents to interpret the Spirit of k’vanna of Moshe breaking the tablets, that משל Aggaditah. Another slightly distant precedent, דברים טו: א – יא, it compares to yet another slightly distant precedent דברים טז: יג – כ.
Now contrast these four slightly removed precedents with this more precise Torah precedent דברים כג: ג – ז. Avodah zarah directly learns from Mamzarim and Bil’am the prophet. The latter, Moshe the prophet emphasizes – the avodah zarah expressed by the ‘Evil Eye’ of Bil’am, his desire to weaken and impoverish the chosen Cohen nation. So Moshe did not engrave 10 commandments upon two tablets of stone. Rather the משנה תורה defines the Spirit of K’vanna of the revelation of the Torah @ Sinai expressed through the commandment to develop a ‘Good Eye’ toward our bnai brit people. The Talmud emphatically teaches the דיוק, that hatred without cause resulted in the g’lut of Judean Jewry in the days of the Roman empire.
May HaShem bless this learning to negate the domino effect known as ירידות הדורות; caused by assimilated rabbis, their perversion of Torah common law into statutory law, and religious law. The correct study of the Torah learns first and foremost, it absolutely requires the discipline of the Oral Torah לשמה logic
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Interesting story
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Thank you Anand. So glad that you find my story interesting.
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That was a very tragic story, but this seems to be part of life, it is not only comfort, peace and roses … under the circumstances she was maybe lucky to end up inside the goddess. It is incredible what humans do to humans.
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You are very right Stella, it is really unimaginable, “that which humans can do to each other.” Writing this story did bring much sadness to me too, however, as you rightly say, “life is not always a bed of roses,” and I felt it my obligation as a writer to forth such stories to the world as well.
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I understand that very well. I also sometimes write stories about death, which people don’t like so much. In the western world, death is the worst that can happen to a person. I don’t think so.
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Every religion and philosophy has its way to deal with death. It is certainly not something to usually look forward to, however, I strongly believe that every day that we live, if we are able to do good to others, our life becomes worthwhile. Death comes just once, however, we get to live every day, life is much more than death to us. Life always occupies the longer duration in our lives, no matter how soon we die.
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It’s sad the father never learned how to relate to women and his daughter became his victim.
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Sad realities of life. Different kinds of people do exist. Thank you for your comment. Am always elated to receive your appreciation.
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Brilliantly expressed Trisikh!
Truly a piece off good literature. Best, Shrabani Basu
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Your words of appreciation mean a lot to me ma’am. It gives me great encouragement. Thank you so much. So happy that you like my story.
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👏
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Thank you so much.
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I followed u
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Thank you so much. I have started following you too.
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Where we are born in the US no matter the circumstances does not have to mean where our fortunes will lead in the future. In India I suspect the caste system contradicts that view. So the baby inevitably would have a final encounter later in life with the prostitute mother that abandoned her.
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Very true, but with more education we can be hopeful that the situation will change. A lot of NGOs are doing great work with prostitutes and their children.
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That’s an encouraging sign to the “untouchable” crisis.
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Yes that indeed it. We need more of such action for the emergence of a better world.
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Glad to hear.
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Take Ukraine for example
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This story of yours is a beautiful reflection of the other side of the city of joy.
Three things sell universally – Sex, Drugs, and Weapons! Now there is a time for everything.
In our Hindu culture, there are 4 stages not age-wise but need a basis… an education for 25 years, family life for another 25 years where in your story the man was missing especially the body need aka Grihastha (householder), Vanaprastha (forest walker/forest dweller), and Sannyasa (renunciate).
The life is full circle if one has balanced 4 stages but there is always an exceptions and deviations and outside factor.
This 40-year-old virgin got deviated reason everyone started looking at the young girl in a different way…
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Dear friend, your thoughts on core subject of this story is very vital. Sex, Drugs, and Violence are always bestsellers unfortunately. Though we are beings of lights born out of love and goodness, human beings are attracted to darkness very fast. We have to constantly strive throughout our lives to be on the right path.
The 4 stages of life are an important guideline, or formula to a happier life, which the Hindu sages found out thousands of years ago. Still today it certainly has its relevance, only perhaps practised in the ways of our times. However, human beings are complicated creatures of contradictions who seem to live beyond any prescribed formulas.
I think given all the do’s and don’t the best yardstick for being a good human is the ask the one critical question before we do anything – “What I am going to do, is it going to harm another being.” If yes, then we should not do it, or find a way around it. If no then we can do it.
Regards,
Trishikh
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Wow! A very powerful story. The way you twisted the final plot was very satisfying.
I’m definitely going to reblog this.
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Such an honour Emmanuel to have my story reblogged by you. Always treasure your support.
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Thank you so much for promoting thos story of mine.
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My utmost pleasure Trishikh.
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Reblogged this on LAWET and commented:
A must read story. Go and read everyone.
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Thank you so much for reblogging my story in your blog. Really appreciate the gesture.
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Reblogged this on Musica China.
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Thank you so much for reblogging my story in your blog.
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I have a website blog that I created because of my curiosity for ancient mysteries. I’ve been most interested in ancient civilizations and their gods.
With everything I’ve read and researched, I felt that I needed a place to share my knowledge and hopefully, in return, learn from others what they have learned.
I’m looking for individuals who would like to do a podcast interview with me about what you’ve learned.
If you do an interview, you can even share it on your own website blog.
Once again, thank you for this post, and here is my website. You can find my contact information there, along with my podcast.
http://www.rebirthoftheword.com
If we all take our pieces of the puzzle and put them together, there is no telling what picture we may see.
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Thank you for your interest in my story. I really appreciate your curiosity for ancient mysteries. Right now I am not looking forward to any interview, but you are most welcome to come back and read more of my stories.
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Reblogged this on Hortereichon Show.
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It is a great honour for me to have my story reblogged by you Silvia. I treasure this kind gesture by you. So glad that you liked my story. Now many more people will be able to read it.
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this was a fantastic tale friend, very impressive..
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Dear William, thank you so much for liking this story of mine. Appreciation works like miracle for my writing engine.
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Showing the reality of today’s life and touching hearts… this story is a fabulous work!! 👏👏
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Your appreciation gives me great joy. So happy that you liked the story. Glad that you could relate to its reality and emotions. 🙏
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Harlots are not born but are brought into by trying circumstances. Change of view towards them by society is the need of the hour. There is something more than what seems to the eye. Thanks for sharing such an enlightening write-up
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You are very right Michael, they are the byproduct of a predatory society. All of us need to be sensitive about this cause. Glad that you liked the story.
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This story revived old memories. One rainy evening while returning from office in BBD Bagh to avoid a traffic snarl, the taxi driver took the infamous alley to cross over towards North Calcutta. The alley seemed unending. The driver told us to pull up the glasses of the window. Yet the catcalls could not be subdued. The older women, long past their prime, looked emotionless under cakes of makeup competing not only with younger ones but also underaged and children. It was horrifying how they stood rows after rows like the dead soldiers of Inca waiting for buyers. Many a nights thereafter I could not sleep.
Also there were men who definitely looked weird, their faces indices of their foul, filthy minds.
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You have described to locality very aptly, with the awe and fear of someone who has not seen this kind of a world. Yes it can be very intimidating when someone sees it for the first time. It is a dark world of its own in a city of lights. I used to teach children of sex workers over there, hence have witnessed a bit of their trials and tribulations personally.
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Great and courageous job I must say! Commendable.
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A life is the service of others is a privilege.
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Stay blessed
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Old memories revived. One rainy evening, returning from office in BBD Bagh, just to avoid a traffic snarl, the taxi driver took a turn into this infamous alley guarded ironically by a Shiv Mandir. The driver told us to pull up the glasses but even then the catcalls could not be subdued.
The alley seemed unending flanked on either side by female forms of all kinds from underaged to adolescents to young women to women long past their primes quite emotionless under cakes of make up and men of weirdest visages whom am sure you would not be able to see in broad daylight. Their ugly faces indices of their foul, filthy minds. Suddenly the alley broadened into a grassless ground where stood rows and rows of women with deadpan faces waiting patiently for their nocturnal predators like the dead soldiers of Inca guarding some lost treasure troves.
Thereafter, many a nights I couldn’t sleep…inarguably an incident indented in my mind forever.
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Thank you for reading, liking, and thoughtfully commenting on this story of mine. It gives me great joy when someone gets so engrossed with one of my stories.
You are right, to this dark world for the first time, and discover it’s existence in our very own city, can be a really terrifying and overwhelming experience.
There needs to be a lot of legal and Government intervention, more on the lines of rehabilitation and livelihood alternatives to gradually make the situation better for sex workers.
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In some countries it is legalized which means it is recognized as a valid profession.
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Yes, it can be seriously considered. Can you imagine if such a place did not exist, them there would be thousands of frustrated and violent people on the road preying on everyone. Whether to legalise it or not is an age old debate, but certainly things need to be done to create better humane conditions.
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“thousands of frustrated and violent people on the road preying on everyone”……Society needs to treat this frustration as well.
The end of your story is one such indication…
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Human beings are creatures of light and darkness, we are capable of both good and bad. I however strongly believe that good always triumphs in the end.
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That is hope raising
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True
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Darun…a very disturbing read for me…and that’s the quality of a good writer… capable to play with readers emotion…amazing story.
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Dear Sutapa, Thank you so much for this lovely comment. I really treasure your reaction to my story. You have really made my day.
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Amazingly written this heartbreaking story.
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So glad that you like it. Yes, it has the streak of sadness to it.
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