Ig - uglynakedguy_0709
She was born there. Allegedly, it was her inheritance. A brothel. She was curved like swell of the ocean and her face was a gesture of glory. She was quite the perfect notion of nature. A man who can praise beauty could do anything to capture the glory. Though, this is the problem with the most men as they want to seize everything. Her nature was not into much of anything. She was calm, always holding her composure. She seemed to be one of those women who can drift something sometimes with their shadows. The other women there were fair enough. Doing their job and envying her beauty. And that was acceptable. Envious causes you to have ambition somehow. You have to just accept it right. She was not much into it. She was barely into talking on or off work. Nobody can say that what was she thinking at a time and what'd she do next.
On an overcast evening when she seemed to have nothing to happen about work, a boy visited there and inquired for a room. He was carrying a backpack and couple of sheets in his hand. He asked her to make a deal so that he can stay there in night. She didn't say anything, turned around and made her way to the small shade like room. He followed her through the small door with his head down. She closed the door and started undoing her clothes. He asked her not to do so and also motions toward a not so clean white chair to have a seat. He sat on bed. Silence waved at each other.
"How old are you?" he asked out of nowhere. "26," she said thinking about the question again as she'd heard it right. "Hii," he tried to strike up a conversation. She did't say anything. "You are beautiful," he said. Indeed, she was beautiful. She looked at him and thought of something for a moment. He was a normal looking guy. Neither tempting nor repulsive. But it was something in his eyes that caught her attention. They were glowing, searching, talking, wandering and making her jealous. She felt something new and alive.
"People of your age never have visited me before, she paused for a moment, they are ugly men who come here to get what their wives don't give them.
"Sex" she hesitated. "With pleasure," added confidently.
He didn't say anything, just nodded leisurely. He looked upon her shadow casting over wall from low illuminating red light. He carefully noticed curves and lines of her face there.
"How come...," she cleared her throat. "How come you are here? Doesn't your girl satisfies you?" she asked and smiled in a mixed way of pleasant and unpleasant both.
"Can we go outside?" asked the boy.
"That includes extra charges and extra care," she suggested.
He actually didn't like the odor in the room. He was not used to it. He nodded to her suggestion. In next five minutes, they made their way out of the house.
"Where to?" she asked.
"May be we should eat something before heading to somewhere," he made a elicited gesture and looked upon her in order a get a reference of the place.
"How come you are here?", she asked again and found herself taking interest in him.
"I am kind of a vagrant now though I wanted to be a writer but things didn't work out and I ended up being this", paused as if he flashed his memories. "But I am doing good", tried and failed to reassure himself. "And answer to your question is that I don't have enough money so I can stay in a hotel and also there isn't any place around where they'd let me stay without any appropriate money in my pocket." Her interest in him vanished with his answer. They kept walking on the road for some time.
"You are not here for the pleasure then?"
"No", he said lowering his voice.
"Are you willing to pay me then?", she asked though she was not sure whether she should ask it or not.
"No", he said and looked down. "But I'd share my food with you and as for the pleasure, I'd read you my stories." The deal somehow seemed fair to her and she agreed lately. Eventually, she decided to know him as she could feel her thoughts urging. And she was more happy about the thought that this particular one night she won't be doing something she has been doing almost her whole life. Deal was fair, she convinced herself.
They did their eating in next half an hour and he took care of the charges as he said. They started walking back to the brothel. Neither of them talked their way back to there.
She started thinking about the moment she'd imagined her whole life, "Love as a person, love in a person." But she know how hard it is. Love is not for everybody and she has known it very well. "Loving for life and living for love" were far away from her life. "Why would God make someone a prostitute?", and she was longing for answers. Then she thought that she'd ask God herself when she will be in heaven if she ever gets there. "Will she be in heaven ever?", this was more than a question for her, perhaps a longing or desperate desire for her identity. Her series of thoughts broke when he grabbed her hand and pulled aside. She was about to fall in a pit left open for maintainence of water line in the city. Couple of minutes after, they were standing in front of the house. They didn't know that this night is going to be a different night for both of them. They got into her room. Smell in the room was less stinging and light was bright this time for him. Maybe because he now owe her a debt. Silence again greeted each other and stayed there for another couple of minutes.
"You were saying something about you reading me your stories?" Well, it is about time, she said and sat beside him on the bed comfortably.
He began and before reading his own stories he narrated a short story to her. It was about a man who used to live in a forest. He was so handsome and his eyes used to shine like a diamond upon reflection. He was fond of admiring his own beauty. He'd walk to a lake and look into water staring at his own reflection for hours. One day he fell into it and drowned. Another day after his death an angel appeared in the forest and went to lake and asked her, "You must be feeling sad for this handsome man who used to admire his beauty in your water?" And then lake answered, "Yes I feel sad but not for this man but instead myself. When he used to see his reflection in my water then I used to admire my own beauty reflecting in his eyes. How clean my water is! How happy the living beings in me are! How deep I am! Alas! I will never be able to admire my beauty in his eyes."
He looked upon her for her reaction on this story but she was busy thinking and understanding it. He didn't say anything and kept looking at her. In a while she paused and then said, "It is like loving a person who makes you love yourself. The more you love that person the more you love yourself." It was the best reaction he has ever got from someone on that story. He smiled and his desire to read his stories became stable and strong. Now this time he started with one of his own's. All of his stories were love stories and she wondered that why he had not written any stories upon other social matters. Like, why any woman is not allowed to chose her life? Why is there a need of being a prostitute? Why men do not do this to their wives? Why they come to her? All she could think about herself and what matters to her. None of his stories were upon inspiration, hope, reality, dreams, desires. All he could write was about nothing but love. But all of his love stories were consisting these topics in their own unique way and she had liked them. There was one more thing about his stories about which she wondered. None of them were complete. Not the stories but the love stories he had written. None of them reached to their destination. Somehow, in each of them, they were not destined to complete. She wondered, why?
Time was running fast that night. But she was happy that this night might bring peace and love in her life. She was looking at him as he was busy reading his stories to her. She felt something fresh and alive in her heart for the first time. "Love?", She wondered. "How come you can fall in love with a person in just one night?" She had heard stories about this. It takes couple of meetings, holding hands, sharing thoughts, smiling anytime in memories, well planned hypothetical get together, first kiss in imagination, walking roads together. How can she fall in love with a person who is a complete stranger to her. She knows nothing about him. He is nothing but a vagrant and he said this himself. Then how come? She was not sure whether it is love or she just want to adore him, admire his work or show his kind love to him to prove him that he is not alone who is longing for love. There are people like me who is living without a soul, without a hope. She found that this is the first time she had given this amount of time just in thinking and she liked it. The urge of showing love to him became confident and in a moment she hold his hand and in his response he turned his head toward her then she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. She did nothing further. Neither did he. Both knew that going further will ruin the relationship they just started nurturing. She moved closer to him and wrapped her arm into his arm and rested his head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and took a cold deep breath. "You gave me hope today," she said and "I would write this story to its destination. And you will always be a vagrant and you will always keep wandering in my heart," she laughed and tightened her grip over his arm.