My Melancholy Musings
It was 7 pm. I was walking home from office. This evening, I had to take an unusual route from New Baneshor to Battishputali. As I crossed the Dhobikhola bridge, I witnessed an incredible scene.
A kurtha salwar clad lady was gesturing towards (in fact, calling) me. Her seductive gesticulations made me pause, ponder over and a tad later pave my way forward. The blinking red and blue bulbs of cabin restaurant and its ambience were enough for temptation. I was well aware of what goes on inside. I threw an indifferent glance at her and instantly turned straight ahead. As I ventured past few buildings, there I found numerous such cabin restaurants.
Now, as you know, sex is not only on sale in the city, it's disgustingly rampant. I know that the lady's was a desperate bid to attract customers. I also know that she, like every cabin girl, has a story to tell: that her's was a poor family from outside Kathmandu Valley; perhaps her father was an irresponsible drunkard, or he, one fine day, brought step mom which made life unbearable. Worse, she was married to a policeman/cab driver and was duped by him in course of time. The story is almost same, only the characters are different.
Having done a couple of stories on Kathmandu's sex market, I can safely say that flesh trade is growing overnight. There's no dearth of clients either. You buy sex as per the weight of your wallet. Cabins, dance restaurants, massage parlors are only variants of this age-old profession.