Gb Road ki kahaani


The shady and deserted roads tell a tale of stories untold and unheard.


The dilapidated state of the “homes’’ and the clogged lanes showcase a story of neglect.


The bruised looks on their faces gives a story of indifference.


A walk on the GB road tells you all these stories. GB ROAD, the red light district of Delhi.


A place where humanity seems dead and the world seems depressed. That place is the home for many prostitutes who live the tragedy of life everyday


There are laws made for them. For their safety, for their protection. BUT, there’s a catch. Every law is per se against them. In case of raids, it’s the prostitutes who get arrested. They have to face the music. Every condition in life pushes them back, so forcefully, that they lose the power to come out.


They start their day there and end it there. There is no escape. It’s actually funny how people come to them as a means of escape, while they themselves can’t go out of the chains of their profession.


Here are a few lines of a self-composed poem on a girl in such a situation.


The sky seems to be full of stories untold


One of them is her story which now begins to unfold


Cheated by destiny, laughed at by fate


Nothing worthwhile in life for which she waits


She carries along with her the weight of disparity and sadness


She needs a power too huge to get her out of this mess


She wants to move ahead


But each time she tries, her past seems to cope up with her


And the tragedy of her life once again begins to stir


She needs that power so much that she agrees to pay the price of the debt


Someone has to hurry up before she drops dead.





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