Bangalore, , India
Team Management, Communication Skills, English Language
0 टिप्पणी करें | 16 लोगो ने देखा है | 21 अक्तूबर 16  | Smrutiranjan Tripathy
Yesterday night many ladies got caught by capital police for getting involved in illegal prostitution. Police took them all to lock-up and kept them the whole night. Early morning, police started torturing everyone, asking different odd questions.


After some time, most of them got bail and few others got bail after evening by their relative.

The lady officer saw one lady among them sitting silently in the corner. She marched towards her and started asking different filthy questions regarding her identity. Still the lady remained silent, didn't utter a single word. Only sound that the lady officer could listen from her sniffling.

The lady officer got back to her seat and carried on with her daily routine work. After some time the frequency of her sniffling increased. Infuriated, the lady officer got back to her and roared “Didn't you feel sad when you were enjoying at the bed with different people? Wipe out your crocodile tears and give me your detail. Come on, I don't have time to watch your drama, bloody bitch! What will happen when your father comes to know that you are derive your pocket money by warming the bed of others?”

All of sudden another lady constable rushed towards the senior and murmured something in her ear and showed her something on a cellphone. The lady officer’s eyes bulged out and she told the victim, “Congratulation, madam, your movie has been released on big screen.” She then went on to show the video clip to the lady.

The lady didn’t glance at the cell phone screen. She kept her head down and remained silent. Her silence further incensed the officer’s rage. She pulled the victim by her hair and started slapping her. “What is your name? Who are you? Tell me your father’s name? Who are your clients? Give me the names of everyone, or else you are not leaving this station.”

It was at this point that some sort of response was discernable from the victim. She raised her head ever so slowly and stared into the eyes of the lady officer. “Do you want to know who my clients were? Do you want to know who is my first ever client? Let me give you his identity. He was my very own father. Where were you when I was getting raped every day in my own home by the same person who I hate to even call my own father. Let me tell you one thing, I don’t regret getting into prostitution because I would rather share bed with strangers than with my father.”

At this point everyone in the lock-up was silent. Only the victim’s continuous sniffles were heard echoed by the walls of the jail.

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