Yea, I am that type of girl who takes risks. Not always does taking risk bring me good. Sometimes, it’s awful too. However, the experiences and lifelong lessons I get to gain from acting a daredevil are remarkable events in my life. Similarly, yesterday was a normal day. I along with three of my other friends went to the Naval Beach which is at one hour drive from my university. Gazing and genuinely giving a deep thought about things approaching my way I was searching for a topic to write about for my blog. Usually friends complain when on a long drive I don’t talk and embrace silence while considering things gazing out from the window opened. Well, this is the time when I allow my mind to speak after seeing things in this busy city of Chittagong. Every time you go out you would see something heartbreaking, something you wish you never had to see. Poor people sleeping naked on roads, legs and hands both broken and a person is lying begging for money, pile of garbage and dirt, would witness persons dragging carts bare foot on roads and you pass them by, to my surprise you would also see people starving to death. You literally would see male and female underweight. This is what makes me speechless when friends chill and enjoy loud music while on a long drive. I almost end up with disappointment and reaching the beach I would lie down on a bench gazing stars and wandering in my thoughts about “Can this world be ever better” where at least people get to eat something, wear slippers at least and have a hut to hide themselves at nights. With these thoughts my mind would keep wandering and I reach back my hostel. This time the scene was unusual. While having dinner on “Boat club” I heard loud music downstairs. It felt like as if some DJ party is going on and people are enjoying to the hell. I seek an urge to go and see if somehow rushing in could be made possible. To my surprise, we were allowed in may be because my blond, short, and curly hair made them see me as an American or somewhere from Europe. I recall the event managers saying “foreigners, foreigners” as if we are going to rock the party once we enter in. We were welcomed with full zeal and respect. As we entered I saw two couple dancers on the stage. Three girls dancing and the rest were old men standing encircling the girls. With full music and lights off the stage was decorated with red and white and green lights. People could barely listen to each other in that loud music. I and Hawa my crime partner went to the corner and instead of dancing we preferred to watch what was going on because this time the DJ party was sounding unusual. Normally when we dance on DJ parties it does not rain money but in that party a hundred dollars each were thrown on those who were dancing on the stage. The girls would pick them up, keep them in their bags and come back and dance. Fully drunk what so called the renowned rich people of Chittagong were throwing dollars over and over. To their eyes we might have looked aliens and dissimilar from the rest. Therefore, people started coming and introducing themselves to us. Someone working in the senate, someone is the reputed business man, someone owner of the multinational company. We were privileged to meet the idols and what was more advantageous was to see the faces which were covered in masks from the outside. How you see a senate member from the outside and how his actual face is, how we see successful business man and what they really are. There is something wrong with us in choosing roles models for us. Those distinguished famous stake holders are very well respected in the society. It’s a cultural based common faith of everyone in the society; those who are very wealthy are the only reputed individuals within the city or country. They are more respected more valued and looked up on every time.
Then suddenly I saw a friend of mine coming in and dragging out scolding us. I could not hear what she said exactly because the music was so loud but I could see the rage on her face. For the time being I got scared. When we got out of the room she goes like “Do you have any fucking idea that you just entered the prostitution DJ party”? I was like “How am I supposed to know that prostitutes have DJ parties too. This is how we kept arguing and I realized yea that would only be a prostitution hall where money is poured as drops of rain from the sky. We then headed to our destination. While reaching our comfort zone where I lay and stare at the sky and think and talk to myself, my mind burst into so many questions. On one side where malnutrition is killing lives with hunger, where bare feet are feeling numb, where a person is broken into pieces and left out for begging, in the same city, on the other hand, it rains money nonstop for physical lust, it rains money for buying girls as if they are objects, it rains money so that husbands of another wives could sleep with girls more tempting, stimulating and more sexually appealing. I then imagined myself looking at the mirror for quite long and came to know how beautiful I am created. From head to toe I am a beautiful soul. I then felt sorry for it because of those women who sell it, who objectify it and give people chance to come up with the term misogyny. I don’t know what makes those women prostitutes but whatsoever the reason might be I wish there could always be an alternative that a woman can choose. I wish instead of worsening money on buying girls those extraordinary fake heroes under the eye of everyone could act like “real man” and help the world get better. A real man is someone who respects a woman and thinks of her as the same soul as his. While rests of my friends were still scolding me on entering a random party just like that I ended up thinking “Is life fair enough? Would it ever be fair enough to every one?
PS: “I am glad I randomly entered that party and came to know how the real World works and how gold appearing things are gold platted”