Parvati(Part Two)

    Next morning, when she was walking towards her shabby tent-house beside the pavement, she could notice the stares of the neighboring boys. Some of them whistled and passed vulgar remarks. By now she was clever enough to know why they were staring at her. She had also become one of those Dhandewali (whore). She had heard about the girls selling their bodies and earning money. Now she had also become one of them
    Jamaiya was still asleep when she came inside. She stared at his face for a while, and suddenly got furious. She spat on his face with a loud vulgar shout," You bastard! You made your daughter a whore! You pimp!  "Parvati did not notice that the boys of the area had gathered outside her hut. She came out and gave them a hard stare, and they begin to disappear one by one.
    After that day, Parvati began to cash on her body. She had suddenly changed and she openly contacted the loc al pimps who arranged customers for her. She would go out with her customers at night and come back to her hut early in the morning. Within a few months she had saved enough money to buy a small apartment, with the help of a local pimp.
    Meanwhile, Jamaiya's health began to deteriorate, for he had started drinking excessively with the money which was so easily available to him. He had to be hospitalized. In spite of the good medical care, he did not survive long. One night he vomited blood and fell unconscious. He never came to senses again. The father's death was only an incident for Parvati. After the cremation of the dead body, she entered her room and began to drink from the bottle which her father had left. Within no time she was drunk, and she began to throw his belongings out of the window. The vagrants in the street happily collected those things and ran away.
  Parvati was a famous name among the pimps in the Bombay Central area. Sometimes she had to entertain one of the local police officers to get the favor and to avoid the harassment she faced when the raiding police parties troubled her. She was happy as she was. Life was easy, with all the money to spend on good food, clothes and ornaments.
    One night, after about two years, she had a strange customer, a rich man's son, about 26 years of age. He had paid her Rs.6oo for one night. His name was Vijay Kumar. Unlike other customers, who would immediately undress her and fulfill their sexual demands, Vijay Kumar spent the whole night chatting with her. The questions were the same which she had heard hundreds of times from her other customers: why did you enter this business? Don't you have any family? And so on. The customers would ask such questions but having enjoyed her body, they never stopped to listen to the woes of the poor girl. But, this boy was different.
  Vijay was from Pune. The boy was studying in Bombay, so he had told Parvati. After the first night, he began to visit her every Friday night. This continued for about six months, but during all this period he had never tried to get what he used to pay for. He informed Parvati that his father had passed away and his uncles had taken over the business of his father. Vijay seemed to be gloomy all the time. His mother had died when he was only ten years old.
  "Parvati, now I don't want to go back to Pune. Will you marry me ?" asked he, so casually that Parvati was thrown off balance. She had no words in her mouth. Since she had become a prostitute , she had stopped thinking about a married life and family.
  "Answer me. Will you? I love you. I don't know what you are , or how many men you have slept with, all I know is that I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life", he said all this in one breath. His tone suggested extreme sincerity.
    Next morning, Parvati called a broker and sold her apartment for Rs.60,000 , with the provision that the possession would be given after one month after the payment, for Parvati and Vijay needed time to look for another place to live, away from that part of Bombay. Within a week they were declared husband and wife by a priest in a small temple in the remote part of Bombay, near Borivali.
    With the money which she had saved and the money received from the sale of her own apartment, they bought a small house in a village in Northern Bombay, away from the people who recognized her as a prostitute. Vijay had his driving license, and he got a taxi on daily basis from a local dealer. The owner of the taxi was a generous man, and knowing that Vijay was a qualified person, he didn't hesitate in handing him the keys of a taxi, of course without any deposit or guarantee. He charged Vijay less than the other drivers. Vijay had to pay him Rs.100 per day to the owner.
    Life was easy for the newly married couple. Vijay loved Parvati very much. He would teach her how to read and write. Parvati could expect nothing more. She had all that she had once dreamt of. That Parvati from the pavement near the Church gate station had a loving husband and a small house of her own to boot. After one year, she gave birth to a boy child. Their happiness knew no bounds. Parvati was thrilled. She wanted to give him all those things which she had seen in the hands of the rich children, while she would be sitting on the pavement. Vijay had never given any chance of complain in their married life. In this way, three years passed happily.
  One night, Vijay complained of a headache. Parvati gave him aspirin. It was quite normal. They suspected nothing. But, the destiny had some other plans for poor Parvati. One day, at about noon time, she was informed by a taxi driver friend of Vijay that Vijay was in a hospital. Taking her son along, she rushed to the hospital.
  Vijay was in the intensive care unit. The doctors told her to bring certain medicines which they had prescribed. Parvati spent about Rs.4, 000 on his treatment. He came home after two weeks. The words of the doctor were haunting Parvati," He has a brain-tumor! He has a brain-tumor!" They had told her that the operation would cost about sixty thousand rupees. The medicines and the accommodation in the hospital would be about twenty five thousand.
    Parvati never told Vijay even a word about his illness. One month later, Vijay was hospitalized. Parvati had arranged money by pawning the house. She sold all her ornaments, but she was still short of about twenty thousand rupees. There was no way she could raise the remaining amount of money to treat Vijay. Operation was to take place on Sunday. There were five days in her hand. There was no other way but to go to her old acquaintances, the pimps. She left her son with a neighbor for five days and once again entered that mire from where she had come out so happily. The customers were not hard to find. She worked day and night. Right from Rs.100 to Rs.2000 per night, she entertained almost all the customers, sometimes ten in a day. She wanted to save Vijay at any cost. For all her attempts, she could not save him. He died two days after the operation. After his death, she realized that she would have to go back whence she had come.
    There was no time for mourning, for had she tried to dress like a widow, carrying the memories of her loving husband, feeding the child and her own survival would have been impossible. She had already sold most of the household goods. Now she had only one aim-to give a better life to her son. She would never let it happen to her son. She determined to collect as much money as she could by selling herself to the so-called civilized men of the society, who kissed, licked and sucked every part of her body. She was fully back in her business, and the apartment, but this time she had taken the apartment on rent.
  She had sent her son to a boarding school, away from that filthy place of her own. Once in a week, she would visit him. Hardly had she recovered from the loss of her husband when a new reality was in front of her. One morning, while bathing, she noticed a small pimple on her left thigh. She didn't mind it much. After a week, three more pimples appeared on the same thigh. There was a rash around her vagina. While passing urine, she felt a burning sensation. She visited a local doctor, and he  gave her some tablets.
    She had to be very careful lest any sign of the disease should appear on her face. The day it happened would be the last for her business. Finally, it did happen one day. A small pimple appeared on her nose. She noticed some dry patches under her lower lip. She applied some cream, but in a few days the dry patches turned red. The customers did not notice much in the darkness of the room. They used to be either drunk or too dazed by her beauty to notice that she had a dreaded disease.
    One day a pimp noticed that and he demanded bigger share. He threatened to disclose her secret to the customers. Now, she began to get less and less amount of money for the services she provided to the lusty, blinded customers. The pimps would snatch away the major portion of her earnings.
    However, it did not remain a secret for long. No customers would come to her. They began to shun her. In a few months, she was thrown out of her apartment. She had no place to go to. Finally, she decided to go back to her original home- the pavement near the Church gate station. The child was with her now.
    One year later, on that pavement, a woman, a leper, was trying to avoid the flies that were trying to settle on her face to suck the liquid oozing out of her wounds. There was no nose on her face. She looked frightening. The child was playing nearby. A few passers by took pity and threw a few coins in front of her. Parvati was trying to smile but the grotesque face was too disgusting to produce any smile. Wasn't it like a dream? The ultimate destiny of a lovely woman was too cruel to be described as the God's act. The lines were ringing in her ears, " I will find a handsome bridegroom for my Parvati, my goddess."
                                                                                                                  Raja Sir.