Character
10
A Bar Girl
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Yesterday was a bad day. In the morning, I went to meet a teacher
at school where Simran- my daughter, is enrolled. In the evening, I slept with
a fat, old man who gave me just Rs.2000 for my services. I was promised Rs.
10,000. And at night, I got locked up in the jail for 5 hours! This isn’t the
worst day of my life!
My name is Shabana. My fans call me Shabbo. Some even call
me Dil-ki-raani or Dil-jaan or Jaanu! Having such aliases is common in my line of business. Rarely
does anyone know our real names. Only the ‘trusted’ fans know my real name.
Day before yesterday, I was watching one kids-dance show.
That made me go back 15 years in my past and I kept thinking about how my life
took turn; for the worse though! I entered this profession when I was 14 years
old. Normally, kids at this age play with dolls or small toys or play badminton
or cricket, etc. Some even participate in talent shows related to singing or
dancing. Even I used to dance at the age of 14. The difference between me and
kids participating in the TV shows is that I had to dance not out of hobby or
liking, but out of compulsion. There were no judges to rate my dancing skills.
There was no audience to encourage me. There were only ‘seths’or customers who used to appreciate my dance by showering
notes of Rs. 10 or Rs. 20 or Rs.50 or even Rs.100! Sometimes even 500 and 1000
notes!
I am a native of a village on the outskirts of Hyderabad.
Unfortunately, I was born to a poor couple who already had 5 kids. I still ask
God as to why I had to be born in that family! Can you imagine how it is like
to be born as a 6th child and that too when the house is just 200
sq.ft! I have spent my entire childhood playing hide-n-seek in our area and
playing boat-boat in a gutter that used to flow beside our house. For some
reason, I was never interested in studies. The only dream that I had was to
become a good housewife. My mother was my idol. The way she used to handle the
whole family, that was worth learning from her. Because of extreme poverty, my
parents had to request my paternal uncle to take custody of me and my two
sisters. That is how we three landed up spending the rest of our life in a
far-flung suburb in Mumbai.
The initial three months, we were damn happy! But
unfortunately, saali khudki hi nazar khud
ko lag gayi! Of the three of us, I was the one who looked pretty ‘grown-up’
for her age. On one fateful afternoon, a friend of my uncle came to meet him. I
was told to get him a glass of water. I greeted him, gave him a glass of water
and went back to the kitchen. Then he and my uncle talked for some 20 minutes.
I could hear my uncle argue with him. The conversation ended with a sentence –
“haan, theek hai, 10 baje, ‘Masti’ bar
mein.” After he went away, my uncle could not see me eye-to-eye. He took me
to the Masti bar at the decided time. That was the first time I had been to a
bar. The bar was at the dead end of a road. There was a watchman standing
outside the bar. The way he was dressed, the bar seemed to me like a nice
place. He opened the door for us. The moment I entered the bar, I could see
neatly dressed waiters, many middle-aged men and around 20 shabbily-dressed
girls. There was also an orchestra going on. It had 5 members- 2 singers and
rest 3 on some musical instruments. Blue, green, yellow, silver lights were
flashing continuously on a globe made of small pieces of mirrors!
The waiter introduced us to a black, tall, heavily-built
man who was respectfully called “Jagan
bhai”. Every person entering the bar used to salute him –“Salaam Jagan Bhai…” or “Paay laagu Jagan Bhai…” My uncle also
did the same, but I did not. This, somehow, offended “Jagan bhai” and he stared
at me. I stared at him too; more out of fear and dislike. He and my uncle went
upstairs. I was made to stand near the orchestra. I could hear a few bald, old
uncles say “Abe…#$%^@#, naya, kawlaa maal hai be…”, “abee…wo dekh…naya piece…” One old man
even approached me and asked me “nayi hai
kya?” Just at the right moment, a heavily built man intervened and forced
that old man to go to his seat. I, silently, thanked that good person. The other
bar girls kept staring at me. One of them taunted “bahut choti hai…nahi tik paayegi...” The other one said “iski bhi footi kismet…!” All I could do
was keep telling God to intervene and take me out of that place. But, jab kismet ki maa behen honi hi hai, to
bhagwan bhi kuch nahi kar sakta!
Upstairs, the deal was signed between my uncle and Jagan
Bhai. When my uncle came downstairs, he couldn’t make eye contact with me. He
just said “sorry beta” and left. Needless to say, I cried and screamed a lot.
Everyone in the bar kept staring at me; some stared out of pity and some out of
happiness. Who doesn’t like to see others in pain? From that night on, I was
one of the dancers/bar girls of the Masti bar. From that night on, my life
changed; for the worse though. One bar girl named Raano took me upstairs to
meet Jagan Bhai. Jagan Bhai looked at me and just said “Don’t worry. We will take good care of you. Raano will get you
accustomed to the life here.”
I was then taken to room where 5 bar girls were waiting for
their turn to go and dance in front of the seths/customers.
The rest of the bar girls – around 15- were on the floor, dancing to the tune
played by the orchestra. Raano introduced me to those 5 girls. One girl who was
wearing a red saari asked my name. I said “Shabana hai mera naam.” The moment I finished my sentence, she said “aaj se tera naam Shabbo. Masti bar ki
Shabbo. Yahan ke saale buddho ke dil ki raani – Shabbo…hahaha…saali…”
Another girl in a yellow sari smirked “tu
mast hari-bhari hai re Shabbo… accha khasa kamayegi tu…” All I could do was
to just keep listening to them and hope that some angel would come and take me
away from this place. I looked through the glass on the door and saw the other
bar girls dancing with old uncles, middle-aged guys and young boys. Those men
were touching and trying to kiss the girls. I just kept crying because I could
see myself dancing, being touched, being kissed! Seeing me cry, Raano took me
to Jagan Bhai. He ordered Raano to drop me home. We took a rickshaw and after a
ride of 15 minutes, I reached home. All this while, Raano explained me the hows and whats of the ‘new world.’
I could not sleep the whole night. I was praying to God
that all this better be a nightmare. The following morning, I didn’t speak to anyone
at home. My sisters kept asking me where I had gone out in the dead of night.
Being the eldest sister, I didn’t want to cry in front of them. But yes, later
on, in the evening, I did explain to them about where I had been the earlier
night and what lay ahead of me. Not even at a single moment did I crumble while
telling them all these things. I guess, one night of crying had hardened my
soul and made me ready to face the rest of the life with confidence. The
schedule was set for the rest of my life at Masti bar. A rickshaw came to pick
me up at 9.30 PM. Raano was in that rickshaw. She was around 19 years old. She
had joined this profession 3 years ago and was now sort of a master-of-all! She
gave me tips on how to entice a lazy, rich customer, how to evade a chingus, lukkha customer, how to
maintain your won vat amongst all
other bar girls, how to read the eyes of the customers, etc. I entered the bar
through another secret door which is meant especially for the bar girls. I was
given a locker to keep my purse and was asked to choose one sari from option of
4 – red, black, green and yellow. I was unable to decide which one to choose.
Since I am fair, Raano chose a black sari for me. She said it would enhance my
beauty. She played a few old songs on her mobile and taught me how to dance in
front of the customers. Somehow, I picked up the dancing part pretty easily. My
fellow mates – Gulabo, Jaani, Chamki, Rajjo and Shilpa taught me the magic of
eyes, magic of smile, etc.
The clock struck 10.30 and customers started pouring in. A
little bit of nervousness started creeping into my mind and body. I had never
ever thought that I would ever dance in front of more than 50 old, middle-aged
and young men! Raano helped me put on my make-up. Our room was filled with 19
bar girls. Jagan bhai arrived at 10.45. He ordered us to start coming onto the
dance floor. The orchestra started playing old songs such as ‘aayi ye meherbaan…” and “piya tu ab to aajaa...” I was the last
one to enter the dance floor. The regular customers immediately noticed ki aaj koi naya maal aya hai… almost
everybody was staring at me. Some men even whistled at me. Someone shouted “ye meri hai!” This made a few of my
fellow mates a bit jealous. They could sense that I was going to hit their
share badly. 2 young boys came up to me and asked my name. I said “Shabbo.” The
moment I finished saying, one of those boys touched my hip and said “tu aaj se meri hai Shabbo.” I felt very
uncomfortable. Raano intervened and requested those boys to cool down. I kept
looking at other girls and tried to copy their steps. My confidence of facing
the customers vainshed the moment I looked at the crowd of men waiting to talk
to me, touch me. I could feel their eyes piercing my body. I somehow controlled
my tears. I kept grooving on the music. When I looked at the customers I could
see them staring at various body parts. Majority were interested in the upper
half. I could hear them say “aaj se ye
mera maal….” and “ufff…teri ada
janeman…”
One bald man tried to approach me. Seeing this, another man
from an adjoining table approached me too. A fight ensued between them. I got
frightened and ran away to our room. I realized that this was the tip of the
iceberg. Raano told me that from that day on, witnessing such fights should be
a normal thing for me. I cried for 20 minutes and then Jagan Bhai ordered me to
go on to the dance floor again. Reluctantly, I went again. This time I didn’t
look at the customers. I just kept grooving to the music and tried to stay away
from the piercing eyes of the customers. The clock struck 1.00 AM. People
started leaving for their homes. A few of my fellow mates were approached for
other services. One middle-aged guy came up to me and said “chal Shabbo…mere saath chal… life bana dunga
teri…” I replied “sorry chacha.
Aunty aur apki beti muje dekh kar naaraz
ho jayengi…” You should have seen his face when I said that! He was so
ashamed that he didn’t come to the bar for next one month or so. I guess, he
needed that time to gain a little perspective on who to approach and who not
to!
Days passed by. Months passed by. Years passed by. I am now
29 years old and am known as the hottest girl at the Masti bar! Log
paagal hoke chuke hain mere pyaar mein. Log ek doosre ko kaatne ke liye bhi
tayyar hain! Shabbo jo chahe wo paa sakti hai aur jise chahe use paa sakti hai!
My rate is the highest amongst all bar girls. My rates depend upon the age of
the customer and the number of hours for which my services are needed. For men
around the age of 4o, I charge ten thousand rupees for the whole night! And for
freshers, i.e. young boys, I charge around three thousand rupees per night! Jiski jeb badi, Shabbo usko utna jyada kat
ti hai...haha! All these years, I have maintained one rule – no extra
services during the bar time! 10.00 se 1
baje tak nachneka…aur uske baad hi jidhar jana hoga udhar janeka! Shabbo usul
ki pakki hai! I guess, because I adhere to my principles, Jagan Bhai has
never had any problem with me in so many years at Masti bar. In fact, I get the
highest share amongst all the girls! I am so much in demand that I now give
more of a ‘guest appearance’ to my customers! Simple baat hai, jitna jyada bhaav khaungi, log utna hi jyada tadpenge
mere liye!
Last few years of being in this profession has taught me so
many things! I can give you in writing that I understand men better than anyone
else in this world. Kutte hote hain saale
ye mard! Jidhar acchi ladki dikhi, chale gaye peeche..saale… %$#$#$#@... I
have seen men literally cry for me. Tadapte
hain saale...They beg of me to let them have
me! The best night I recollect now was one when 6 businessmen kept
increasing their offers till the highest offer was of Rs. 50,000! I was being
auctioned! But that is OK. You pay me and I make you happy; who you are, I don’t
care. I only care about the money! As simple as that! Some even cry when they
are with me. They also share their bedroom stories with me! Some crib about
their wives not being able to make them happy and that is why they want girls
like me to keep them going! Normally, boys in their 20s come to me to check
whether they have the confidence to make their girlfriends happy. I then give
them tips to be super-heroes! Some
have even tested those tips on their girlfriends and then came back to me to
thank me for my advice! Haha! Shabbo – the advisor! I get really angry when men
cheat on their wives but are not able to digest the fact that even their wives
can cheat them! Six years ago, I slept with one 30 year old customer. After he
was tired, he kept telling me that he suspected his wife of having affair with
some guy in their colony. He told me that he used to beat his wife on the basis
of this suspicion. I stopped him then and there are slapped him real hard! He
was so much ashamed when I shouted at him “saale,
@#$#%^^!@#, tu aur kisi ke saath soyega to chalega, aur wo soyegi to nahi
chalega! Ye kya baat hui! Tera ‘sukh’ ‘sukh’ aur aur uska ‘sukh’ kuch nahi? Agar
tu use khush rakhega to aur kidhar kyun jayegi? Aur meri ek baat sun le, samaj
le, tu khud ko jitna mard samajta hai na, utna hai nahi….samjaaa?” That was
the first time in my life that I didn’t take money for my services and went
away after giving a word of advice!
There was this customer of mine who was head over heels for
me! He kept giving me roses every time he came to the bar. Almost every week,
he used to take me for a ride in this car. A long drive to Lonavla! He was not
married. He proposed me 5 years ago. Normally I don’t develop feelings for my
customers. But, he was special and he made me feel special. We got deeply
involved and got married 6 months after he proposed me. I left Masti bar. I was
very keen on having a baby as soon as possible. But he had other plans. He
wanted to marry me so that I become available to him 24X7. A few months after
unprotected sex with him, I got pregnant and wanted to become a mother. We had
several fights over me becoming a mother. He didn’t want to shoulder any
responsibility. He threatened me with dire consequences if I decided to give
birth to the baby. After getting beaten several times, I convinced that we
would become parents. But, he put a condition. If and only if the baby in my
womb was a boy, would I become a mother. Else, I would have to undergo an
abortion. We then went to a nearby illegal sex-determination clinic. As fate
would have it, it was a girl. My husband stormed out of the clinic. The
patients sitting there just kept staring at me for my helplessness. I spent the
whole night crying at Raano’s house. She didn’t stop me while I was crying. She
wanted to let me to relieve all my sadness off my heart. She asked me just one
question – “Do you want to become a mother or not?” I wanted to, but kept mum.
I didn’t know how I would be able to raise the baby in this ruthless world! I
didn’t want my girl to be someone like me. I didn’t want her to be bred in the
dirty lanes where I spent my teenage. But, somehow, my feeling of motherhood
overcame all my fears and I looked into Raano’s eyes and said “yes. I want to
become a mother.” Needless to say, I left my husband forever and since then I
have been a single mother.
With no job in hand, I rejoined Masti bar. Jagan Bhai was
more than happy to see me back in his bar. Since last 4 years, I am back to my
job as a bar girl from 10.00 PM to 1.00 AM and then waiting for some customer
to ask for extra services. I am still considered the hottest of all girls at
Masti bar! There are 3 teenage girls who have started ruling the hearts of the
customers! Life mein har cheez ka time
hota hai… aur ek do saalo tak mera time hai…kal wo teen fuljhadiyon ka time
hoga…jawani hai to paisa hai… paisa hai to jaan hai…aur jaan hai to jahaan hai!
Par jawani aisi cheez hai ki jo jaldi hi
dhal jayegi. That is the reason why I have thought of starting a small
business with Raano and Rashmi. That small business will employ poor women who
make papad and pickles. Fortunately,
last month, we were counselled by 2 boys named Snehal Fulzele and Mandar
Marathe from an NGO called 30 Dollar Finance[1].
They taught us the importance of starting a business even with a small amount.
This will make us independent by the time when we are in our late 30s...
When I look back at my life as a bar dancer, I can easily categorize
the days into ‘good’ and ‘bad’ category. Let me tell you about the days that
made me very happy. Since my peers were of different religions and languages,
we had many occasions to enjoy our life by celebrating different festivals,
days, etc. Amongst all of us, there was this bar girl named Rashmi who was very
good at mimicking people. She used to mimick a few customers so damn well! Usne to film industry mein hi jaana chahiye!
Whoever made the highest on a particular day would give a small party to
others. There was a Chinese food stall nearby. We used to order food from
there. Beer to fukat mein hi milti thi!
Talli hoke chicken tandoori khane mein
kya mazaa ata hai boss! Dil khush!! Jagan Bhai never shouted at us. 20 days
before Diwali, Jagan Bhai used to shut down the bar and take all of us – the
staff, the orchestra and all the bar girls – for a week-long trip to a new
state every year! In that trip, some of us used to dance and rest of us to act
as customers and have fun! Rs.10 aur Rs.20 ki
note udaane mein kya mazaa ata hai! Needless to say, the nights when I used
to make above Rs. 5000 for one night were my best nights!
But, all these moments of happiness fizzle out the moment I
think of those bad days when the bar used to be raided or jab koi customer chutya bana ke pe fukat mein leta tha! Normally,
there is a ‘setting’ between the policemen and the bar owner. But, on the days
when policemen didn’t get their Hafta, they
used to raid the bar. After the state-wide ban imposed on bar dancers, legally
we are not allowed to work. But, paisa
diya to sab chalta hai! Whenever a raid is about to occur, we get a signal
in the form of lights of the bar being switched ON and OFF 3 times! That is the
time when we have to leave the dance floor and hide in an underground closet!
But, policemen are smart! They catch hold of us and we have to spend the night
at the police station. It hurts most when we are slapped on our face and told “saali, #$%#@! Samaj pe kalank ho tum sari...
#@%#@, ek ek ko pakad ke kutte jaisa marna chahiye... sukhi ghar parivar ko tod
te ho tum log...” One night, after I was put behind the bar, I was told the
same things again. I lost my cool and shouted at that sub-inspector “Saale...@$%@%#, hum log kya kheech ke laate
hain un shadi shudha mardo ko?...unki bhookh mit ti nahi hai, isliye wo log
hamare paas aate hai naa?... bhookhe kutte saale...aur Saab, aap to muh kholo
hi mat. 2 mahine pehle aap “Dildaar lodge” mein Rashmi ke saath they naa?
Rashmi ne hum sab ko ‘Sab kuch’ bataya hai! Bahut taarif kar rahi thi wo aapke
‘performance’ ke bare mein...2 minutes only! hahaha....” We all bar girls
laughed like hell. But the staff at police station became silent. No prizes for
guessing that I was beaten black and blue! But, still, I am proud of myself
that I said what I felt was right!
After being in this profession for so many years, I have
totally lost faith in God. I mean, if God does exist, can’t He see my pain?
Can’t He see the way I scrape through a day hoping the next day to be better
than the current day? Can’t He understand that I have been through hell all
these years and now I want to live a good, calm life wherein I can promise my
daughter a better and educated life? I am afraid of what lay ahead for Simran,
my daughter. Will she be an engineer or a doctor or end up being a bar girl
like me? I try my best to make her understand that only education will bring us
out of the poverty. I am afraid of the day when she realizes that doesn’t have
a dad. How will I explain to her about what I do and why I am away from her
whole night? I fear that day when she will understand ‘why I am not with her at
night”!
I wonder how long I will have to struggle in this birth. Saali, is kutti zindagi se pak chuki hun
mein…kabhi kabhi to lagta hai ki Simran ko maine janam kyun diya! Agar mere
jaisi bar girl bani to…
[1] 30
Dollar Finance (www.30df.org) is a non profit organization that seeks to
revolutionize the fight against poverty by enabling individual social investors
to make small loans to low-income women entrepreneurs in rural India.
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