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Just drop in a mail at toiblogs timesinternet. When dusk settles and the streetlights begin to glow, Munshigunge changes its character. Men, mostly taxi drivers, park their vehicles by the road. Then, depending on their mood and preferences, they disappear into the pigeon-hole sized rooms with their squeeze for the night.
The going rates now is Rs per shot. Some just come, haggle over prices, force themselves on to the girls and then leave without paying the fixed amount. The girls are left behind to deal with a sinking feeling of depression and a gnawing sense of emptiness.
With each passing day, they realise how crippled their lives have become and how their fate has been helplessly trapped between their legs! Yet, love happens. Or so they say. In privacy, some of the greatest cynics there still hope that men in shining armour will come, if not on a horseback but at least on a cycle, to rescue them.
