We live in a world where mundanity is often overlooked every single day. But what about those who live with heartless bodies and no souls?

Within narrow lanes around the world, there exist people who gave up on humanity long ago. They spend their days in the shadows, questioning their choices and circumstances, while bearing the weight of society’s disgust on their shoulders. A society that forced them to make such choices in the first place.

People tend to turn away at the mention of red-light areas, and yet they have become an intricate part of our culture. There are districts built and areas occupied solely by sex workers who sleep in the day, and as the night walks into an abyss of darkness, they come out of their holding cells. They sell themselves and get trapped again in the cells of lust-thirsty monsters. These sex workers are women of all ages, from 13-year-old kids to 50-year-olds who are ‘fit enough’ to satisfy their clients.

They say when misery strikes, it leaves none. So is proved by these women, who have been sold to brothels by their families, lovers and anyone who they once trusted with their being. They eventually succumb to the hands of their buyer, and coexist in an environment where there is no free will, no respect, only disgust and despair.

These women are treated like commodities, exchanged for a price and then discarded once ‘they’ve been enjoyed fully’. At night, they’re locked inside the brothels with collapsing iron doors and sturdy locks, with the keys hidden away.

One must wonder what happens if they try to run or escape? They’re hurt, gang raped, even murdered if caught. To think this is all executed by their ‘madams’ who themselves are women in most cases, and prior sex workers.

In India, human trafficking for prostitution and sex tourism has become common. Little children, especially girls from backward areas and families are targeted. They’re lured into the world of sex work mostly by their lovers or people who promise them opportunities of work or education in the big cities. In many cases, these girls are also kidnapped and sold to dealers without their knowledge.

I recall someone telling me about a 13-year-old girl who was sold at a brothel by someone she trusted. When she tried to flee, she was gang raped to emotionally break her. Other sex workers in the brothel consoled her as they understood her pain and helplessness. They told her that there was no way out of the brothel as she had been sold for Rs. 10,000, and it was best to accept her destiny like all of them did and not get physically tortured. Her most beautiful day was when she had been taken for a car ride and dinner by a sympathetic gentleman whose only purpose was to talk to her and try his best to empathise.

The harsh reality doesn’t end here. When these women are asked if they’d like to go back home, they outright refuse. They’re scared that now their tainted souls and impure bodies would not be accepted by their families and society. It is heartbreaking that a place which is supposed to be their safe haven, their home has become a place they fear the most from going back.

Stories like these make me wonder about the irony that we exist in. Where one part of society is as affected by traffic, buildings and everyday motions as a deaf man in an argument, this little girl and her kind only survive to experience such incidents once in their lifetime.

The love we so easily mistreat and ignore is a wonderland thought for them.

These metal collapsing doors and sturdy locks in brothels hold metaphors to the dreams and hopes these sex workers have locked in their subconscious. The little girls who wished to study, the young ones who dreamed of love and family and the old ones who only wanted a peaceful death.

They hide behind these doors of shame and vulnerability, only to be exposed fully and without consent in front of strangers who ravish them like barbarians while looking at them with no emotion other than disgust. Even in death, they’re tied up, so no one tries to use their now truly soulless bodies.

So tomorrow, when you pass a bus or a tumbledown structure, when you touch someone you love and lie in your bed fully clothed, be grateful for what you have.

Appreciate your present and past.
Breathe that air of free will.
Protect your loved ones a little extra.

If you come across someone with a tainted life, try to find the keys to their iron doors with metal locks.