SHOTS - HUMAN TRAFFICKING

Note: Again, a long pending draft... When I reread these even I felt horrible... Don't ask me how or why I came up with these things.  And the truth is I do not know anyway that writing this could actually help anyone?!
How can common people stop any of this, or contribute in some way to stopping any of these things?
One thing we can promise ourselves is to make sure that the next generation is inspired to be good.


She tried to contain her excitement! She felt proud to be doing this, joining work on her 16th birthday...!!
Not many girls from her elementary school had survived unmarried and NOW she would work to support herself and her family!
She would be the son her parents had always wanted...until her little baby brothers were born that is but they are little and sick, so she could be like an elder son! 
She held on to her little sister with more resolve, the puny 12 year old hands gripping her tight in response.
They walked into the "firm" and were happy to see many girls of their own age or lesser.  She was glad her sister had someone to play with.
She was not sure why Chacha did not look proud or excited for them.  He smiled with resignation and relief as he pocketed the amount carefully and patted her head saying "we will save your little brothers don't worry"





Twins were such a rare thing as it is and both boys meant definitely good things to come.  She had seen it in happening in the past year.
Two of her sisters getting married to the old station master and his helper on the same day!  Even Arasi said everyone in the village were jealous of her family.
Then her father refused to give her away in marriage though she turned 13 last month...
AND NOW she was being allowed to go work out of town.
Kumar mama had made them see the possibility of her and latchumi supporting her family.  Of course dad got drunk silently and mom moved her big bellied frame as silently out of the house as she could with almost inaudible sobs.
She would take latchumi to a movie with their first salary.  They will eat one meal less to make up for the ticket.
The memories kept repeating themselves as it did almost every morning.
She tried to be strong as she walk to the dormitory where girls her sister's age lived and worked - cleaning and sewing for them - unless someone rich asked for one of them specifically. 
Or like her sister today, turned 12. 
May be she could bribe auto Ravi with a free round to help sneaking them out to a movie and back...




With this one, it added up to Rs.10000.  That would be more than enough to pay for everything.
She would need to hurry to send the money order in before evening - it was Friday, the busiest nights mostly.
Her calculations were interrupted by the discomfort of the mundane routine.
This one was always quiet and dissociated she recalled. 
She almost thanked him for the respite he gave her. 
Then she remembered and then it hurt. 
She swallowed her pride and shame.  Like everything else...




The 10 volunteers were all young men and women arranging the boxes all around for them all to pick one each when they left.
So she stood up trying not to shout at these "know it all" bunch of youngsters that had decided to educate the poor prostitutes!
Of course, one of the educated customers, or a TV ad, or a stray commoner uses one.
But they knew the reality even better.  Even the chatty Sekar had beaten her when she asked him to wear it once.
"We can suffer the disease than go through the beating everyday", she tried to maintain her tone.
She was angry that these young men and women who have probably never had sex yet, came to show them how they could be safe. 
After everything that had happened to them, why do they think AIDS was a big deal! 
She probably already had it anyway.




His friends had played a dare on him for his 20th birthday and he was not sure anymore why he agreed!
He was not sure if he was ashamed or horrified.
The experienced hands that were promised to initiate him belonged to that of an almost pretty 15 year old girl...
She did not even show any surprise at the sight of him.
He said "I don't want anything from you" but I will stay here for an hour so they pay you.
Her sly smile both teased him and thanked him.  He had his first crush and heart break at the same time. 
The NGO and the police received an anonymous tip that night.

Hers. . .

She always felt like she has known her for a long time. . . There was something about the look in her daughter's eyes like she knew her mother too well for her age or time would have permitted her to know.  The serene smile, yet, so innocent as it was worn on the little face. . .

The skin so soft.  The soft silky brown hair undecidedly folding into curls at the ends.  The little hands and feet.  The milky fragrance of her little body.  Even when the baby cried relentlessly in the nights during their initial days together, she did not get irritated. If she was tired, the minute she lifted her daughter, she was grateful for the warmth and comfort the little body offered her.  Her daughter was the most beautiful thing she had ever looked at, ever held. 

The little crinkles near the beautiful brown eyes. . . And those eyes.  That sometimes, soothed her... Sometimes disturbed her. . . It was colour she knew only too well.  She had not thought about it clearly for a long time though it used to nag her mildly, constantly. Every time she looked at her beloved child, she would invariably get hooked to the eyes.

Then it came to her one day. When she was going through her school photographs.  But it couldn't be.  It may not really be for it was not distinctly that shade of dark brown.  It was like a somehow more feminine version of the same eyes.  But it could just not be.

Everytime she thought about it, she became uncomfortable.  For her general wondering grew into a disturbing curiosity.  Then it drew her imaginative mind's interest far more deeply.  And before she could stop herself, she even started hoping that it was true. . . That is when she had to stop herself.  She did not want to disturb her calm, peaceful, in fact beautiful but a little lonely life.  Stop.  What was she thinking.  This is why she had to stop.  She wasn't Lonely.  She had her daughter.  This is what she had chosen.

She had the perfect life, she told herself.  An independent and interesting career.  A cozy little house for herself.  She is making enough money to support herself and her beautiful little daughter and still saving for her only daughter's future. . .

She did not have an unhappy committment - nothing that would affect her comfortable existence.  Her daughter was her world.  Her family had not spoken one word to her after her decision and she was not too worried.  Time heals everything.  She has supported her baby all alone for 2 years now. . . She was sure she can do it all her life. . .

She had her best friend to support her at hard times... No. . . No, she would do even without him.  Or would she?  Please, no not again. . .  Those eyes.  They always set her thoughts going like this which is why she was always wary of them though she loved them, especially for their familiarity for she could quietly build an imagination too good to be true. . . Wait... What is this. . . Stop. . .

She looked at her baby sleeping - the angel, the saviour, the joy. . . She soothed herself that it could not be so...  She was fine. . . Everything around her was fine. . .  And then the door bell rang.  It was time for his visit. . .  She loved to see the adorable smile that spread on her daughter's face every time she saw him. . . Much like her own happy heart at the wonderful company. . .   But she feared the day when she would ask about her father and the day she may even mistake him for, if only it were true. . . Stop. . .

She shook her thoughts away to go back to her life, the way it was. . . Happy but a little lonely. . . She had to admit. . . Except for these visits. . . She might very well admit it to herself. . . Herself alone. . . 

Last wish. . .

The rubble around her intrigues her barely awake brain while she is quietly indifferent, to all that chaos and cacophony of the dying.  She is careful not to walk upon any piece of flesh whether a part of an alive being or dead and it is not a conscious effort - it is involuntary.  She is so numb with exhaustion that she is incessantly aware of every infinitesimally small change in everything around her. She extends her hand to feel the morbid air, thick with the thoughts of so many thousand weeping and feeble souls, most willing to die quickly than live the horrible pain, while clinging dearly to the little of life left in their atoms.  She braces herself against the raw cold, and walks without paying heed to the calls of the few sane people trying to help the helpless.  She is sane enough to watch and understand the hurt and gauge the gross damage. She is not sane enough to help anyone there beyond dragging herself away from them before she kills everyone to a quicker, more peaceful death.

She slowly comes around to hear her mother's voice; opens her eyes to get a startlingly clear picture of her mother with eyes that seem wise and strange - worn out eyes, sore with dried tears - reflecting a hardened soul, cold with strength, fighting against the weakness of emotions.  She sees her nod towards the doctor.  She understands at that precise moment.  Her mother did not let her down even now.  Her mother is always right - she smiles towards her gently - she knows her mother would have heard her think - I love you!  She looks at the single pearly tear that trickles down her mother's cheek, the one she always loved to rub against.  She can still recall the smoothness and the smell of it.  I love you mom!  She closes her eyes to the tiny pin prick of the needle – the last of pain she was to endure, the last of anything she was to feel in her short life.  She closes her eyes, gratefully!

Theirs. . .

It was her.  He picked the ringing fone softly flashing her name to her fav song.  Her voice melodious as always, tugged at the depth of his heart. He could hear the excitement - of a secret about to be shared - in her voice, as she invited him to their fav meeting spot to tell him about something important, "for a special surprise" as she put it.  His eyes were softening at the sound of her voice, but also had the pain they always bore, whenever he heard her.  He smiled, so she could hear it in his voice and said he'll be there, for after all, he had been expecting this call.  He went about his day of work, without any visible distraction, but a neat undercurrent of memories, wishes, hopes, disappointments, love, misery.

He was there, 15 mins ahead in time and stood at the shore and let the lapping waves soothe his tired body while his heart raced.  But he exuded calm and cool, as always.  He sensed her and turned, she walked to the spot beside him and stood enjoying the soothing waves and the beautiful scenery, emanating soft beauty, as always.  The beach was mostly deserted at this late twilight hour.  They walked to their fav bench, she entwined her hand through his elbow on the way and he responded with a reassuring smile.

As they sat at the bench, she took his hand in hers and smiled, eyes widened, he understood her question and pretended a "no guesses" shrug of his shoulders but with enough enthusiasm to egg her on.  She placed his palm on her abdomen and he heard the faint but racing pulse as his own rose to match.  He searched her eyes and she replied with her twinkle eyed smile, cracking a dimple at one cheek.  He fell in love, all over again, as always.

"I did it", she said, almost trembling with passionate enthusiasm, "Artificial Insemination, State sperm Bank, they did not reveal the donor, not even to me, rules, and am only glad.  Called mom and dad and gave them the news.  They cut, not just the call."  He could see her swallowing the bitterness and disappointment gracefully and bring back her charming smile.  He wanted to engulf her in a hug.  "It's ok", she said as his care and worry for her showed in his eyes, "this heartbeat cures more than I imagined it would", she looked at her abdomen fondly.

He did not take his hand off her pulsing abdomen till they parted for the evening.  He dropped her at her door, a cozy little house where she lived alone, refused her offer to go inside with a whispered goodnight kiss on her forehead which she returned with a warm bear hug.

He left after she walked in and waved a good bye from inside the chain locked door.  He reached home, called up the doctors, the sperm bank and his confidente, the friend who pulled the strings.  Thanked them all  for her safety and for keeping his identity a secret, as a tear drop streaked his one cheek.