The Story of a Shoe

Crafted I was in a shoe-man house,
My brothers and I were leather bound,
The loving hands that created my soul
Coughing over winter nights forlorn,

I was a dandy of the shop that adorned,
The best amongst the lot,
I stood tall, invincible and proud
For I knew I was priceless and beautiful without a shroud
Of guilt I stood out, craning my neck
For the beautiful dame’s grace
Oh the hands that touch me
The yearning that sets in to please,
This creature with my tease

Fidgeting to fit in right,
Tested and tried- the small walk, the gallop
The squeal of joy, the rush of adrenaline

The journey into the unknown, a land of dreams
To travel and see the world and all beautiful things
The walk, the strut, the swinging motion
The marble floor, the soft mosaic…like satin on rose

Urghhh what happens here, the pushing and the jostling
The feet I adorn, kicking and falling
Collapsing on my soul, this woman of price
A one-dime room and a brute for the night
Kicked, torn apart, raped and hurt
I survive, blistered is my soul
I crawl and lick my wounds

Something ruffles beneath my side,
I heave and find papers with marks of the might,
Scattered on the floor they lie
A testimony to the violence of the night


The hands that bend to collect them let out a sigh
The cold feet grapples for my sight
Kicked torn raped and hurt
I survive, blistered in my soul
I walk the satin rose that hurt my body like thorns


I walk with my head bent low
Counting the pebbled street slow
Bending, twisting, falling, standing
The marathon, I must finish
To my creator I must replenish my soul
To the world adieu I bid
The graveyard of hell I have lived!

Crossroads

Caught you checking your reflection in the mirror,
Walking the unpaved path, protruding stones, dingy alleys
At crossroads of life as dusk sets in,
Between the blanks of life, a memory that lingers
The quiet tranquil night and the pup rolled close to his mother
At crossroadsof life,as night calls upon,


The moon and the thousand stars embedded in the sky
The shadows of a caress that reminds you
Of the crossroads of life…

Paths chosen, threaded, forgotten and then chosen again
The hands that held you tight in their grasp
To let go, in the crossroads of life

Shadows in dreams, tales of sins
Love has a cost, a price- that we call compromise
That you decide… at the crossroads of life

Lost eyes blinded by the morning light,
Caught your reflection by the mirror, walking the alley last night
Between crossing paths with the shadows of yesterday,
At the crossroads of life.

Risings from the Underbelly

Sonagachi - the largest red-light area in South - Asia, commands an historical antecedent. Once known to entertain the noble Bhadralok, the ruminant buildings of Neel Kamal and Lal Kamal, today stand tall in the squalor of decay, waste and poverty, in line with the hundreds of shack like structures. Today, the word Sonagachi evokes various streams of emotion- contempt, embarrassment and even anger, but its existence is undeniable, as also the flesh trade that occurs freely in its streets. Women, like commodities are priced tagged here- their ethnicity, skin, eyes, figure and age important determinants of the price they fetch, in this modern day market. Every year hundreds of women, find their way to Sonagachi, trafficked from different parts of the country and outside. Violated, betrayed and abused by their own, they struggle to survive and live in this quagmire of abuse.

Yet the winds of change has not left the lives of these women untouched. Translated in Bengali to mean Unstoppable, Durbar Mahila Samanwaya Samiti is a forum of 65,000 sex workers that unites all those sold into sex slave trade and denied rights to live. This union in Sonagachi monitors minor girls coming into the areas as well as protects the women in the area from police brutalities. One of the gravest concerns in India today is the rising number of HIV/AIDS cases, and the Sonagachi Project, run by Durbar since 1999, fulfills its role of an STD/HIV Intervention Programme for this at-risk population. The union covers a population of over 20,000 sex workers, migrant labourers and street-based sex workers through 49 sex work sites in West Bengal.

DMSC has given to the women of Sonagachi, what they are most denied - an identity. The body -the priced and priceless have come together to construct a rising.