Saturday, September 15, 2012

The thousand mile wide thin line

Another Thursday evening is born, the much awaited weekend has come. This is one event that never disappoints us, weekends will come without fail as long as the earth spins and goes around sun. The same question gets asked again - "Entha weekend paripadi?!" The answers in-order of most replied in my workplace are - Sleep, Nothing, Drinks, Family stuffs, rarely study, even rarely something good for the society. Massage must be an unspoken answer, otherwise how come there is a SPA in every corner of this place?!

My call was drinks this round, although I have been refraining from this lately since bars in Dubai have an extreme negative energy around it. They seem to be build upon lost dreams, lost souls... lives sold for the rich mans pleasure. 

Inside a hotel in Dubai there are many doors. Every door is a kalesdoscope to different worlds. People choose their doors and inside the room you can find fellows who share your pleasure. 

Families choose the family restaurant door - good food, wine, pleasant service and an artist whose hopes of fame has diminished to four walls within a restaurant will be singing live. Why would anyone want a person singing live while you eat! How can you excite two senses at the same time? Ears will not pay attention to music while your tongue is tickled with hot mirchi. Gulam jamun will not taste sweet if Lata was singing. An artist singing in a restaurant is a crime, its lack of respect, its lack of culture, its blasphemous.   

Young adrenalin pumping bloods choose the DJ door, Live rock band door. Some quite lonely souls choose the silent bars - guaranteed that you will go in lonely and come out the same.   

Then there is the russain door, indian door, luckly other specimens are not found in plenty in Dubai or sourcing could be difficult. Don't mistake that these doors will take you to Russia or India or that it will showcase the culture of these countries. But it does showcase, girls from Russia and India, on a platform, where they dance to the tunes of whatever is played; as you look at them, pervertedly, and sip on your drink. Are they failed artists? They are not performing any form of classical dance that needs to be learned for sure. The people who choose the door did not want to see ballet or mohiniyattam either.

When they look at you, its not a look asking for sympathy or a look that is asking for help. It is a bold look. A look that can seduce you for the obvious. They have trained themselves to forget hope. This is their reality and life, it does not scare them anymore. Girls as young as 16, she should be doing her homework from school I thought. But what does she know about studying, getting a degree, getting a job, getting acknowledged in the society? Respect is lost first, society has turned their back to her soul. She already has a job that will feed her hunger. Unknowingly days will pass, her body will age, will scar, earning will go down... then what? Just like an artist she is performing on the stage, to the pleasure of her perverted audience. I am sure she is doing her best. For an artist, respect is the thousand mile wide thin line that makes all the difference.. fame is the dream. But she is not a traditional artist.. but I choose to believe prostitution is an art too, created by misfortune, taught by despair, perfected by experience.  

We take so much away from them while giving so little and still we are proud to have given that 5 cent.

A wall apart in the same building families are having dinner. Do they know or did they chose not to see? 

What am I doing?

No comments: