Brajesh was trying to sleep but stayed disquiet on the bed, tossing and turning. In dark midnight, with his eyes closed, he was not able to sleep. He had a clear picture of Fulmaya floating in his mind.
“I am also intransigent and arrogant to this society,” he murmurs.
“A Hindu Pundit, who recites Purans’ verses mentioning that the so-called the top-most upper-caste Brahmins should not eat tomatoes, angrily beats his wife for not using tomatoes in his meal morning or evening,” Brajesh argues to himself.
“I want to uncover Phulmaya. Why does this society pounce at Phulmaya like a hawk attacking a pigeon?” Brajesh has questions.
“The problem was not merely Phulmaya Tamang. Instead, this problem is the problem of thousands of Phulmayas who have been used as deterministic things in their country and foreign territory,” Brajesh keeps thinking.
“Sir, no one listens to us,” says Phulmaya introducing herself as a prostitute, a ‘characterless’ woman in the bright part of society. But the other part of the same society is such cruel and fearful that we could only breathe in breathlessness.
“Yes, this is my introduction, and I shall discuss in detail why I don’t regret this life,” she adds.
Brajesh sees Phulmaya’s picture when she uncovers herself in words, in front of the people who introduce themselves as contractors, ministers, leaders, and human rights advocates of the society.
“My home lies in that remote and isolated part of Nepal, where having a complete one-day meal might probably not be possible even during what it is called the ‘Great Festival’ Dashain,” Phulmaya speaks out in a sobbing voice.
“Though I was born in such a village, I need not live there since my childhood. With the help of an uneducated local political leader of that time, at the age of 12, I was brought to a big house in Kathmandu, probably the house of a corrupt judge. My rise and fall both started simultaneously from that day.”
“Fall in a sense that the house owner and the political leader were already leering on me. Soon after some days, they started to attack my body. They brutally interfered with my way of living and being raised naturally as a child. Consequently, I am present here in front of you as a prostitute.”
“Rise in a sense that I am a Master’s Degree in sociology. They paid for my education and living but in return, I had to give them my body. I am now capable of choosing my job. I am ready to regard this as a ‘rise’ because I could do nothing if those two people had only abused me, but they, at least, sent me to school, college and the university. Even though the opportunity of my education was at the cost of my maidenhood, it made me able to raise my voice for justice to the profession where I am now.”
“Generous, especially ministers and leaders, why don’t you think of us when you let the people in every profession make favorable association and unions? Why don’t you give a respectable solution for prostitution as “professional sex workers?” You might think if it would be possible. Why not? If there are professional doctors, professional lawyers, professional artists, why not professional sex workers? I would like to ask those people and agencies who think they are shouldering the responsibilities of human rights conservation, probably called ‘the human rights advocates.’ Are our rights human rights or not? If our rights do not incBecauseusiness that you claim you are doing. Can’t a person independently choose own profession? Because of not getting recognition, many women are compelled and stuck under oppression and facing legal cases of sexual abuse. So, isn’t this injustice?”
“What plans and visions do you have for its solution? Nothing, Right? Why do you ignore our voice? What have we asked you for? Just the protection and management of our profession, trade recognition and protecting our right to choose our own job. Isn’t that all we have asked you for? Sir, won’t it also help to run the country in different ways? Our country gets revenue from our industry no less than through other professions. You send youths for foreign employment. While you trade youth muscles as crude labor to foreign countries, what makes a difference when we do flesh-trade in our own country?”
“You don’t blame your leaders for keeping us in the rented hotel rooms with an undeclared intro if it gets accredited as a profession. Further, prostitution will aid the country’s economic growth for sure.”
Each of Phulmaya’s words was worth notable and the words were awakening everyone’s heart and mind. Each word of Fulmaya was based on reality and addressed prevailing social discrepancies. Maybe, Fulmaya, as a young and educated lady as a prostitute, portrayed the society that she has faced since her childhood. Perhaps, she was talking about the characteristics of politicians or the self-declared renowned people who would not even be trusted for not abusing the children sexually when they have them as housemaids.
Were her words less polemical? Have we forgotten our leaders’ cases with wine and women? What they wanted doesn’t seem illicit. Even its trade’s axiom that one can trade whatever of his belongings. What is wrong if people like Phulmaya, who are victims of rampant and unconstrained sex abuse, would like to end the physical abuse they have been bearing and instead make it an income source?
Why are people not speaking anything? Question from Kamala, a Phulmaya’s friend, startles Brajesh.
Even Kamala’s pain from her past is no less poignant. She used to go for tuition for her SLC exam preparation. One day, when Kamala was returning from her evening tuition class, some random people dressed as security guards with masks on their faces took her to an unknown place in the name of investigation. Still, she is not sure if they were indeed the security guards as security guards didn’t need to cover their faces then. Many brutal, cold-blooded demons in the form of humans, who claim themselves as soldiers, used her for their sexual pleasure for three months and left her alone in a street of the country’s capital at midnight.
Neither could Kamala go her home, nor did she have any skills to sell for a living. By no choice, she made her looted body a means of employment and she is enjoying her profession now even though not extremely happy.
“Sir, I found only this profession where we as the sellers can enforce the conditions get them followed; first getting paid then giving the service.” Kamala comes forward, picking up a peculiar benefit of her profession
“Are there such facilities elsewhere?” Brijesh becomes perplexed and cannot reach any settlement. He is confused if the reasoning of Fulmaya and Kamala are illicit. He can neither stay away from his conventional thoughts nor ignore reality.
Phulmaya and Kamala feel the pain of sexual abuse in every step, and many are compelled to become sex slaves in foreign countries. What is wrong with Fulmaya’s and Kamala’s logic? Why don’t we regard them as licit? It is their right to use their body as of their desire. Who gave us the right to judge their choices as right or wrong? Are we trying to make ourselves fate-deciders of others forcefully?
Still, Brajesh tries to fall asleep, but his sleep is still too far from his eyes. Phulmaya’s voice is requesting to take their voice to everyone. Her request is to all the people who have authority to help them establish as a recognized professional sex worker.
Phulmaya’s powerful message rings Brajesh’s ears while he is trying to go asleep. He wishes if someone would make it a topic for argument and they are ready for arguing.
“Alright,” Brajesh considers that this subject should be a topic for the argument. He was tossing and turning on the bed.
The writer, a notable published writer of many books including children literature, has experience of working in different professional fields like journalism, human rights and public health. He lives in Vikal Niwas, Arubari Gokarneshwar Municipality, Kathmandu Nepal.