Chhanno

            Chhanno’s house is locked. Where has she gone! I wonder! It was said that she was a prostitute and was running a brothel. Her house was in the main street. Her other  neighbors were decent and 'Khandani' people. We, as teenagers, were very curious abt her house. We heard so many stories about her and seen some bad famed women visiting her house. It was a mixture of curiosity, fear and excitement when ever we passed through her street. Some times police raided her house but after spending some hours at police station she was back to her business. I never heard her being in jail on account of prostitution. While passing through her street we used to have a glimpse at her house in the quest of something exciting. But never found a thing which could please our eyes. Of course whenever we found the door open we heard an unusual conversation and Chhanano’s laughter was always louder than others. There was an obsequious pinch in her laughter, which was, I think, always required, keeping her forty plus clients and paramours have their wallets open. And whenever we found the door closed we ran the horses of our imagination as far as they could go. I don know if it was her misfortune or adventure that she was into a profession which is not seen with patience, though, she was fortunate enough to have one of India’s least disturbing communities, partition migrants, as neighbors. Chhanno had a full-fledged family, a husband whom I some times saw drunk and being thrashed by his wife out of house, a daughter, I don’t know if she was also being served to Chhanno’s clients but she was an active partner in those unusual conversations, she was around 18 yrs, beautiful, fair and slender waisted. Chhano was around fifty, had many extra pounds on her body, beetle nut stained teeth. I could never dare to notice any thing more. Her house was on main street and today, after many years when I passed through the street I was curious to see it locked, more than the times when was open. But I’ll b a fool if enquiring abt a ‘bai’. And I’ll b one if I continue to write abt a prostitute as I never had a relation with that house other than lot of imaginations. And I can’t risk my character for the sake of the imaginations.