Dear Aai
Thanks for making me a b'day cake and sorry for being unable to have it, again.
I know that I am dead to everyone now; yet I have survived in your heart, my memories and in this hell.
I still remember that day, every moment of it. Your hand running on my forehead to relieve me from the stress of exams and future, your 'best of luck' kiss, your promise to cook my favorite Pao Bhaji for dinner, everything. I was happy. It was last exam after all, and a bright future ahead. I remember how you convinced dad to let me study Physics. But the moment we are truly happy is the moment of ashes sometimes. My turned into ashes so sudden that I could not even realize. Yes, I survived, but because I survived, I die daily.
For you, baba and everyone, I was kidnapped and never came back. I know, in these years, even you have accepted that I am dead. And trust me, I am happy with it.
How, in the hell, do I tell you that I was trafficked and now I am what you call wh*re, slut or whatever, prostitute is a word to dignify my job. What I have gone through is not I want to tell you, nor you can understand that.
All I want you to know is I am dead, and a sl*t has been born. The only regret I have is, how in school, sl*t was a slang to us. I wish I could go back and tell everybody that no one is sl*t by choice. It is not a topic of humor, joke or debate, it is one pain, we can never understand unless we face it.
I have never tried to contact you aai, and I never will. At least in your heart and memories, I am a sweet little girl and not a sl*t. I don't wanna kill her. Don't let her die, aai. Never.
Love
A Sl*t.
This Is Just To Highlight How Girls Are Forced Or Kidnapped Into That Ugly Market.
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