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A Thousand Rupee / Night

Jayanta Boruah

Research Scholar

North-Eastern Hill University

I was drunk. If I were not drunk then I would have not been able to see what I saw last night. My legs were approaching to several directions but somehow I managed to reach near a cottage at the dark end of a road.

I could hear several sounds coming from the cottage. Those sounds were a mixture of different emotions. Few were of pleasure, few were of pain and while some others were of unseen horror.

Suddenly a shadow stood beside me and said that it is only one thousand rupee/ night. And she with her fingers invited me inside the cottage. I went inside and stood at the entrance, while she said me to wait there till she comes back.

I looked into each and every rooms of the cottage till I saw the one which was for me. In each room I saw a carcass lying on a bed giving pleasure to hungry perverted lions that hanged on those carcasses for minutes or for hours till they lose their stamina or discharged their strength. But the carcasses were just breathing deep and fast.

Their death had different stories in each room. Few were due to poverty; few were due to inhuman legacy, while few others were due to strong desire for intimacy. While, the lions on the other hand represented every dignified profession in our society. One of the carcasses had tears in her eyes but could not shout as her lips were sealed by the lion above her. The power of position, the value of money and the strength of white collar were dictating the prestige of decency.

The smell inside the rooms was so terrible that even a hungry vulture would vomit before approaching these dead bodies. But still the so-called lions were searching for pleasure in it.

And later when I was send inside the room which was arranged for me at the cost of one thousand rupee. I saw the eyes of my sister, felt the hands of my mother, recalled the love of my wife and sensed the breath of my daughter. At last I found myself lost in the laps of a woman. I that time sensed each drop of alcohol in the nerves of my body and for the first time in my life felt ashamed for being a man.

I could have sensed the beauty, but would have lost my purity. I had an opportunity but I maintained my dignity. I looked into the eyes of the carcass lying beside me; they seemed to be proud on the decision taken by me.

I just wonder that how the future generation who will foresee the next morning in the laps of these carcasses would introduce themselves. Will they reclaim the honor for serving the perverted humanity or will be ashamed for being blame on our dignity?

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