The following is a true story of Women Trafficking. Names and addresses have been modified only.

Maleka gave a last, mournful glance. She could see the moss-infected large signboard infront of the 4-storey building. It read “Thakurdar Shopnopuri”. A deep revolting hatred mixed with nausea bubbled up her gut at the sight of it. Dark memories came back. She remembered days when she failed to recognize her own face in the mirror, days when she thought suicide was the only medicine for the disease that they have infected her with. Every waking moment in that brothel was a nightmare to her but ironically, they called the place a ‘shopnopuri’.

Now with the journalists and police escorts around her she felt safe. Police have somehow tracked down the devils and seized their playhouse. At a distance, she could see Himesh bhai-the mastermind behind “Thakurdar Shopnopuri”. That man, no he was not a man. He was the devil’s son. He was the one who went to the remote village of Habiganj where Maleka lived and managed to lure her with lies and false promises. He promised her to make her the next Shabnur. Blinded by her misleading ambitions, she left her village in the dead of night hoping to surprise her amma by appearing on the next hit ‘Bangla film’. Yes her plans were dramatic; but sadly, the reality turned out to be even more so. He took her to Dhaka alright, but from there he managed to smuggle her to a well-known Calcutta brothel. There she learned firsthand how girls were bargained by the rich, lustful members of society in the ignomity of brothels; she learned how the girls were forced into prostitution by inflicting them with untold tortures; and she learned how big dreams can turn to living nightmares in the span of minutes. All these she learned and more.

Now she felt light headed. Who was she now? She had no dignity, no home and no one to care for her. Besides the number of days she would live were already limited. About a month ago, a pale looking doctor diagnosed her with HIV. She did not know what HIV meant; the doctor only told her that she would not live long. That made things easier because she did not want to live this nightmarish excuse of a life. All the time she felt ‘high’ thanks to her frequent use of alcohol and crack cocaine to numb her physical pain. The famous Himesh bhai introduced these chemicals to her when she couldn’t stop screaming after a serious abuse; after that she became rooted to them for life.

She did not want anything else from her existence. She got up on the police van quietly. Only one thing bugged her- could she see “amma” one last time before death welcomed her? "

***