“Okay! Comment on the YOUNG INDIA take by the minister”
“What is there to talk about? After all that we hear every
day, how can this generation be trusted.”
“Yes, you are right. We
surely have most of young people in our country, but not the whole generation is
sane.”
“And that creates a huge difference.”
That day I heard a group of people discussing young
generation as I walked back home. The last night had exhausted me really bad.
But my mind was alert to everything which was happening around me. I had inherited this
from my experiences. My past had positively prepared my mind and body to work in
every condition.
The time I unlocked my flat I instantly walked into the
kitchen, gulped the whole bottle of water in a go and I lay on bed. As I was
trying to sleep, the words I had just heard struck me. How can this
generation be trusted? How can anyone be trusted? Trust? What is trust?
I woke up to a call. “Asha, I am going to meet the
Commissioner. I will call you after that; we have to discuss that village issue.”
I hung up and walked lazily to the washroom. It wasn’t my daily routine.
Actually I didn’t really have a routine, I never had one. Every day for me was
a new day, every morning was a new place and every night was a pain. I kept my
mind busy because even a pinch of my past was enough to weaken me to the cores.
I walked downstairs to buy milk packet. had a super
market opposite our colony. I use to visit the store so often. The owner was in his
late twenties. He was not there all the time. Whenever we had met in the past
was a refreshing time as we used to exchange our work experience. And it was
rare for me to meet people outside my work.
That day when I visited the store I didn’t find him. But I
met a new girl.
“Hi, do you guys have olives?”
“Hain?”, her response told me she didn’t know
English.
“Beta, yaha olives hai? Jaitoon?”
“Ma’am she is new here. She doesn’t know anything”, a
regular worker told me.
“Oh, no problem. Do you have olives? I am not able to spot.”
I asked again.
“Yes ma’am, this way, I will bring it to you.” he was polite
as usual.
I was in the billing counter when saw the girl again in the
corner. She was gazing the road continuously with a blank but expecting
face.
“Who is she?” I asked the girl in the counter.
“She is Abhay sir’s cousin, Meera. She lives in village; is
here for on vacation.
“That’s great. You
look nervous, is it your first time away from home?”
She did not reply.
I left for home but her face was
flashing before my eyes. People feel discomfort in new places but her! She was
doomed, as if she wanted to escape something. She actually reminded me of my
own childhood, her face resembled my teen age.
I saw Ramesh at the other end. I paid to the auto driver and
crossed road. We greeted and without delay, we headed to cafe for exchanging our
research.
“I got this final list of girls.” He said.
“Only girls?”
“Yeah just girls, we have a list of twenty one girls; sixteen
of them have been trafficked as domestic helps in different cities. They are
yet to be located. There are five girls that police claims have been sold as a
sex worker”, he explained.
I was stunned. I couldn’t say a word. It wasn’t that we had
confronted such issue for the first time. All these years that had passed working
for children who accidentally or forcefully fall into trafficking, these stories
were so common for us. People called us activist but what if this trafficking
had not existed. Then we could live a normal life, and then maybe I too had
slept peacefully at night.
Ramesh nudged me away
from my thoughts. When I gained my senses again, we were set to apart to
different destinations. Just then, I got a call from the police. Next ten
minutes I saw Ramesh’s anxiety growing as my reactions worsened. I couldn’t keep it
for long, “six of the girls have been recognized, and they have been trafficked
to our city Ramesh. Police have successfully traced the dealers and they are on
their way to raid.” I continued in single breathe, “They have called us to take
the data, and then we can start chasing the places that have been traced.”
“Yeah, yeah! Sure! Let’s go.”
We had taken the same way for according to the latest update. On our way towards the police station we were hoping to find
the six girls. We prepared new strategies, talked and talked, and then reached
the station.
Everyone in the station was in rush. Few of them were
calling other work stations to circulate the details, fax machines were getting
used for the same; few teams had already been sent to raid and then there was
head inspector who was waiting for us.
We were given the details of the six girls. We were studying
the details when the inspector got a call. As soon as he hung we were informed
to trace a new target. The information had details of a human trafficker.
“These people have been accused and inquired in past about human
trafficking. We did not get enough evidence to file a case then but their
actions and work is questionable.” And he started going into the details for
each one of them.
He listed one by one and we recorded the key points as we
had to visit each of them to search. Every time there was a case of human
trafficking in the city, we used to help police by all the ways possible. It
was our job and it basically wasn’t a help but we felt it to be our
responsibility.
“Abhay Pratap Singh. He is a twenty eight years old
businessman who belongs to a nearby village. He owns total of 8 shops in the
city including 2 rice go-downs and 6 general stores. He had been accused for
supplying girls from her village to the dealers and had also been arrested
twice for keeping drugs in his go-downs...” he was yet to complete when I
interrupted.
“I know this man” I yelled.
“what?” was the reaction from all the men out there.
“Yes. He runs a supermarket opposite my building, I have met
him several times but I never felt anything wrong about his profile.”
“He might be innocent. We have no strong evidence.”
“no! no no no!” I panicked this time.
All were asking me what, why, how and so many other
questions as I started checking profiles of the six girls again, and again.
“No it is not her” I relaxed. “Is it possible that we have
more of the trafficked girls in the city?” I queried again.
“Yes. We have no clue about nine girls yet.” said the police.
“I think we got one” I announced
bluntly.
We reached the store but the girl
wasn’t there. I inquired the workers about her to which they replied, “Abhay
sir had come, he took her back, she didn’t seem happy here... He said he will be
back after few days... He would be off to village by now”
Police searched Abhay for next few days. All his properties
were seized. We kept on working and got nine girls instead six. Three were sent as
domestic helps to high-society villas. Two of them, we saved from getting married.
And the other four were to be sent abroad, were saved and sent to their respective
homes.
But I got relief only when Meera was found. I didn’t even
know her real name; neither did I get the chance to see her again. Abhay was
imprisoned. Meera disclosed more names which helped us reach 8 more girls who
were sent to different cities. I would have regretted all my life for not
recognizing the culprit and the victim even after confronting them... if we
couldn’t have found her.
The thing that pinched me the most was that Meera had been
sold by her parents. We were alike. This whole issue pushed me back to the
memories of my own childhood. Fifteen years had been passed. But there was no
change in the lives. I was once sold by my mother in the exchange of money. I worked as a household servant for years, and then I was pushed to be a sex
worker. I thank God who helped me escape all that, and gifted me a new purpose
of life. But after all these years, even today, I hear the same
stories time and again.
That night I couldn’t sleep as the questions kept tumbling
my mind. How many years would it take to end this trafficking? What else should
we do to get through it? Who were the origins of this crime? We had done
everything to save humans till date, but we could never stop them to be trafficked. I had no answers but every question was generating a new question.
I woke up next morning lazily. I checked my cell phone, had
no meeting lined up. I opened my news app. ANOTHER HUMAN TRAFFICKING RACKET HAS
BEEN UNVEILED WITH THE HELP OF YOUNG ACTIVISTS, it read. My neighbors would be happy with this generation, I
thought... just then I read another headline, THOUSANDS OF GIRLS MOLESTED BY THE
MOB DURING A CONCERT IN A METROPOLITAN CITY.
No comments:
Post a Comment