Gunnah e Shab

6. Stories • کہانیاں

In three words I can some up everything I've learned about life : it goes on – Robert Frost

A flurry of skirts climbed up the large staircase in a hurry. Purpose filled steps clashed against the sleeping giant. The synchronisation with which tens of steps smacked against it, was a performance of its own. Like a dozen flamingos flying away from a body of water. Their wings flapping in a single rhythm. These women, rushed to get to their designated rooms for the night. A sense of duty awakened in them as they proceeded to get on with the night be it willing or unwilling. Eyes clashed against each other, a fury, an untouched tension filled the tiny crevices of the floorings. An arrogance in them as they brushed past against each other. It was after all a profession that pit — women against women.

Laila was among the group of women, like fluttering butterflies, they scattered in all directions. Their bright dresses, clashing with the pale walls of the large farm house. Like petals thrown around on the arrival of an important guest. These women were all married, married to their career. To their bodies, they were devoted. And to men, they served. Their selves, their souls, their salvation, their damanation. Everything in the hands of — men. Revolting, disgusting, hypocritical men. Yet ofcourse, they with their greying beards and filled to the brim pockets, got to keep their respect. Their status, their pride and a seat at every respectable family's dinner.

She turned a corner, and entered a dimly lit room. It was sparsely decorated, clearly the owners had focused more on perfecting what the guests would actually. Inside these rooms, the eyes were always on the women. It didn't matter that the bed was dingy or that the closet hung on the wall, sloppily. Taking a deep breath, Laila settled herself on the foot of the bed. Only her hushed breathing and the rustling of the linen underneath her. She mentally counted down until her first client stepped into the room.

She did not have to wait long. For a mere five minutes later, he was inside the room. A sinister smile on his thin lips. Laila passed a polite smile, gathering her courage and wits. She looked down at her feet, her heartbeat fastening. And then her pupils, widened. The chocolate of her eyes vanishing, only a darkness of her pupils remaining. Her maroon lips, pushed under her teeth, softly biting onto her flesh as she looked up once more. In that micro second time frame, Laila had been replaced by Rani, the confident alter ego.

Laila or Rani — if you will, took five soft steps. Her mouth pulled into a grin. Her inexperience would not control her, she decided. She would let her body follow it's own voice. The man's gaze, irked her. But here the customer was — God. And this was her life. Her hands traced all the way up from his arms to his soft shoulders. The tip of her nails dancing against his hot, sweaty neck.

Javed shuddered, this was the first time a woman took control. His arm, wrapping around her waist. Their chests crushing. Feeling the warmth of his palm seep into her dress, she rubbed the tender skin behind her earlobe.

"Ap kafi thakay huway lag rahay hain, sahab". [You look very tired, sir.] She let out a breezy giggle.

Javed passed a tight lipped smile. The discomfort in his body, only increasing with her soft voice and tender caresses.

"Ap hain nai is thakawat ko dur karnay keh liye". [You're here to help me rid of this tiredness.] He winked.

She let out a giggle. Her voice, breathless. Breath rate increasing exponentially as he threw her on the bed. Rani skillfully guided his hands to the back of her dress. Enjoying the feel of his rough palms against her own heated skin. She felt a flush over take her body. Her fingers, tugging Javed's clothes off of his body.