A Scene From My Novel
Sharmila�s sole proprietorship was flourishing with new referrals by the day, adding to a growing base of satisfied customers.
Today, it seemed her services were being solicited by one of the most unlikely customers: Prasad Londhe, president of the Hindu Students� Council.
Sharmila was taken aback upon answering the door, in spite of herself. She was no naive damsel -- she was wise to the ways of her seemingly innocent peers -- but she didn't quite think Prasad would have the gall to come to her and risk poking any holes in his clean reputation.
Prasad, however, was not soliciting quite was she was expecting or willing to offer.
"Hi," Prasad muttered quickly, going directly to the couch to sit down after being let inside. "Look, I'm not here to, you know," he said, waving his hand uncomfortably.
"Aww, Prasad," Sharmila smiled soothingly, sitting down next to him and stroking his arm, "That's OK, I've had first-timers here before; I'll go through everything from the basics. I also want to assure you that everything that happens in here will be kept absolutely confidential."
"For your own good!" Prasad proclaimed in a raging outburst, shifting himself to the edge of the couch. "I'm not here for any of your sick, so-called sexual services. I'm here to talk some sense into you."
"Oh, I see," Sharmila smiled coolly. "Are you trying to shut me down?"
"No, I won't do that. I could have called the cops on you, but I'm hoping you'll make the right decision for yourself and stop being such a disgrace to the South Asian community."
Sharmila raised her eyebrows curiously. "You think I'm a disgrace to the South Asian community?"
"How can you even ask this?" Prasad asked, astonished. "Is this what your parents taught you? Do you know what shame you would bring to your family, and what about the university? Do you think UC Berkeley wants to have a prostitute attending their university?"
"The current administration, probably not," Sharmila shrugged matter-of-factly, "But that's not really my concern."
Prasad's jaw dropped in astonishment. "Look, if you don't care about your parents or the university, at least think about what will happen to you if the word gets out. Sooner or later this will leak to the police or the press; who will hire you then? How will you get married later on?"
"Sweetie, I take each day as it comes," Sharmila yawned, slouching back into the couch.
Prasad sat upright, infuriated. "I can't fucking believe this. Man, if my mother ever found out about you attending this university, she'd be so worried about the distractions, and I have a little sister, I don't want knowing about trashy people like you."
"Ah, the real reason for not reporting me," Sharmila smiled knowingly.
"Don't you have any fucking pride? Living off the money of desperate men. Some of whom make an honest living, mind you."
"Oh, Prasad, how unfair," Sharmila pouted, "Gori can strut her stuff and reap the rewards of your honest living, but can't see a brown sister gettin' some cash of her own?"
"What are you talking about?" Prasad demanded, flustered.
"I heard what a wild time you and your boys had at Centerfolds for Rajiv�s twenty-first. Don't you have any pride, my friend?"
"Yes, we went there. That has nothing to do with this. I don't think too highly of those strippers either. It's unfortunate that some women have to turn to such things for money, but a lot of them are just pathetic, trashy women, completely lacking dignity and trying to make easy money."
"What?" Sharmila frowned quizzically. "You paid money to watch women degrade themselves and their communities, and exploit your hard-earned cash? But don't you realize that you have the power to put us out of business? Come on, Prasad, you'll need to take it in your hands to stop supporting us. I know you really care about those women who get into it for financial need, but maybe that's your calling, huh? Prasad-funded rehab for restoration of strippers' dignity? I'm sure the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, Christian Coalition, and lots of other forces of good will back you up full throttle."
Prasad was silent, shaking his head and heaving in frustration.
"You know," Sharmila said softly, sitting upright with a dazed expression, "Every time I shower, I think about how I could be making a fortune by taking a camera in. A picture of water running over these young, supple brown breasts, or an mpeg film, the camera panning over every curve as I tease it, moving my index finger in and out of my mouth, and down, exploring every crack and crevice. Panting. Heaving." She turned her gaze to Prasad, leaning closer to him. "How much do you think a guy would pay for it? And how many guys would buy it? Just imagine how easy is it is for a girl to make a fortune, and how few girls cash in on it."
Prasad was aghast, his face flushed as he watched Sharmila's fingers shamelessly tracing her breasts over her blouse. "You know, you are really sick. I had heard how much of a whore you were but nothing could have prepared me for what you are saying. You are seriously demented. And who do you think you are behaving like that in front of me anyway -- Sharon Stone?"
Sharmila tossed her head back, laughing maniacally. "Oh, come on Prasad, you're a fellow student at the prestigious Haas School of Business. You ought to appreciate my entrepreneurship. Others will be running sweatshops, which should worry you more; I'll be completely self-made, hurting no one. In fact, I'm helping people -- there are lots of lonely guys who are too shy to ask a girl out, or need some practice and training beforehand. Sometimes the guy really just wants to talk and cuddle; we don't even end up having sex. I would really be a fool not to take up this business. Just think how much of a market I have. A sure monopoly in the market for brown university students, given all the prudes that sit around worrying about their reputations. See? I'm fair and lovely. I can quench your wet sari fetish. I can be your exotic pussy, your red hot dot-head, your barely legal honey-dip! This is a niche with an itch. I can do it live, or on video, or on the phone, on demand. All because I'm sincere with my business and believe in total quality management. I can make out with sluts of other colors. Interracial and lesbian porn are hot commodities, so there I'm hitting two birds with one stone; no, three! I insist on condoms, being a peer health and sex educator and all, but I'll do soft-core threesomes, too; who wouldn't want to be the man in the middle? I've already wasted two years by starting at 20; if only I had really started as a barely legal I could have made a-"
"Just shut up!� Prasad shouted, trembling in fury. "I can't believe what I'm hearing at all. What would your father think! Now I�m convinced I'll move back to India to raise my kids. At least then they won't be exposed to this shameless sexual liberation propaganda of you morally degenerate feminists!"
"I see, I'm a feminist!" Sharmila smirked. "I'd like to see you run that by that Isha chick who seems to think that any time a woman expresses herself sexually, it's because she's trying to be more like a man, which of course is the worse thing possible. A lot of feminists seem to have forgotten about choice, like the one I'm exercising by using my body as a commodity in what's actually the most feminine way possible, profiting from the world's oldest profession. Just look at Ms. Meghana Subramaniam, self-proclaimed radical feminist whose article I just read yesterday, about challenging male sexual entitlement. She says political progress for women and other 'oppressed people' can't be reconciled with free-market capitalism, and sex workers who enter the business by choice set things back by cashing in on the intersection of capitalism and patriarchy."
"Yes, she is absolutely right," Prasad said, gathering himself. "It's sluts like you who make it difficult for girls who are actually trying to make an honest living in this world. No wonder the top companies are reluctant to hire girls -- entirely possible that some two-dollar whore like you might try to seduce customers or sleep her way to the top."
"I see; now feminism's on your side. And in what an interesting way, at that. Way to stick to your bow and arrow, Mr. Hindu Students' Council!" Sharmila cackled.
"You are sick!" Prasad shouted, standing up and pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "How much is the opportunity cost of your whorish enterprise? I have taken up some time when you could have been degrading womankind and mankind. How much do you want? One hundred? Two hundred?"
"I don't want your money, sweetie, just get out of my house," Sharmila replied, opening the door.
"No, let me pay you. You were expecting me to come give you money for your sick business, so I�ll at least do that much."
"Prasad, just get the fuck out unless you want me to call the cops on you for trespass."
Prasad stomped out, sweating in humiliation.
---------------------------
I came up with a novel idea (pun intended) in 2002, and wrote the above scene in 2003 (though I've touched it up a little for purposes of this post). I am now resurrecting the project -- maybe. I'm just going to write bits and pieces as I feel the inspiration. It might morph and take another form. Maybe it will just be a bunch of short stories. Or maybe it will just be this one blog entry.
I want the book to be satirical propaganda, without being too in your face about how I, as the author, feel about certain issues (until very late into the novel, at least). I want to give fair weight to a lot of perspectives and even give heavy credibility to some with which I violently disagree.
Above was an example that I would love some feedback on. Was it entertaining? Did it make you think? Was it really obvious where I stand on the issue of prostitution, in its relationship with feminism? Were the characters too contrived? Both of these characters are such that they can't altogether avoid being symbols/caricatures to some degree, but they should possess at least a modicum of realism. (It should be noted that these are fairly minor characters, but the issues raised by each weave throughout the novel and come up with many other characters. Also, the focus is not solely on sexuality, but is generally an anti-libertarian manifesto.)
Any and all feedback please... thanks!
Today, it seemed her services were being solicited by one of the most unlikely customers: Prasad Londhe, president of the Hindu Students� Council.
Sharmila was taken aback upon answering the door, in spite of herself. She was no naive damsel -- she was wise to the ways of her seemingly innocent peers -- but she didn't quite think Prasad would have the gall to come to her and risk poking any holes in his clean reputation.
Prasad, however, was not soliciting quite was she was expecting or willing to offer.
"Hi," Prasad muttered quickly, going directly to the couch to sit down after being let inside. "Look, I'm not here to, you know," he said, waving his hand uncomfortably.
"Aww, Prasad," Sharmila smiled soothingly, sitting down next to him and stroking his arm, "That's OK, I've had first-timers here before; I'll go through everything from the basics. I also want to assure you that everything that happens in here will be kept absolutely confidential."
"For your own good!" Prasad proclaimed in a raging outburst, shifting himself to the edge of the couch. "I'm not here for any of your sick, so-called sexual services. I'm here to talk some sense into you."
"Oh, I see," Sharmila smiled coolly. "Are you trying to shut me down?"
"No, I won't do that. I could have called the cops on you, but I'm hoping you'll make the right decision for yourself and stop being such a disgrace to the South Asian community."
Sharmila raised her eyebrows curiously. "You think I'm a disgrace to the South Asian community?"
"How can you even ask this?" Prasad asked, astonished. "Is this what your parents taught you? Do you know what shame you would bring to your family, and what about the university? Do you think UC Berkeley wants to have a prostitute attending their university?"
"The current administration, probably not," Sharmila shrugged matter-of-factly, "But that's not really my concern."
Prasad's jaw dropped in astonishment. "Look, if you don't care about your parents or the university, at least think about what will happen to you if the word gets out. Sooner or later this will leak to the police or the press; who will hire you then? How will you get married later on?"
"Sweetie, I take each day as it comes," Sharmila yawned, slouching back into the couch.
Prasad sat upright, infuriated. "I can't fucking believe this. Man, if my mother ever found out about you attending this university, she'd be so worried about the distractions, and I have a little sister, I don't want knowing about trashy people like you."
"Ah, the real reason for not reporting me," Sharmila smiled knowingly.
"Don't you have any fucking pride? Living off the money of desperate men. Some of whom make an honest living, mind you."
"Oh, Prasad, how unfair," Sharmila pouted, "Gori can strut her stuff and reap the rewards of your honest living, but can't see a brown sister gettin' some cash of her own?"
"What are you talking about?" Prasad demanded, flustered.
"I heard what a wild time you and your boys had at Centerfolds for Rajiv�s twenty-first. Don't you have any pride, my friend?"
"Yes, we went there. That has nothing to do with this. I don't think too highly of those strippers either. It's unfortunate that some women have to turn to such things for money, but a lot of them are just pathetic, trashy women, completely lacking dignity and trying to make easy money."
"What?" Sharmila frowned quizzically. "You paid money to watch women degrade themselves and their communities, and exploit your hard-earned cash? But don't you realize that you have the power to put us out of business? Come on, Prasad, you'll need to take it in your hands to stop supporting us. I know you really care about those women who get into it for financial need, but maybe that's your calling, huh? Prasad-funded rehab for restoration of strippers' dignity? I'm sure the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, Christian Coalition, and lots of other forces of good will back you up full throttle."
Prasad was silent, shaking his head and heaving in frustration.
"You know," Sharmila said softly, sitting upright with a dazed expression, "Every time I shower, I think about how I could be making a fortune by taking a camera in. A picture of water running over these young, supple brown breasts, or an mpeg film, the camera panning over every curve as I tease it, moving my index finger in and out of my mouth, and down, exploring every crack and crevice. Panting. Heaving." She turned her gaze to Prasad, leaning closer to him. "How much do you think a guy would pay for it? And how many guys would buy it? Just imagine how easy is it is for a girl to make a fortune, and how few girls cash in on it."
Prasad was aghast, his face flushed as he watched Sharmila's fingers shamelessly tracing her breasts over her blouse. "You know, you are really sick. I had heard how much of a whore you were but nothing could have prepared me for what you are saying. You are seriously demented. And who do you think you are behaving like that in front of me anyway -- Sharon Stone?"
Sharmila tossed her head back, laughing maniacally. "Oh, come on Prasad, you're a fellow student at the prestigious Haas School of Business. You ought to appreciate my entrepreneurship. Others will be running sweatshops, which should worry you more; I'll be completely self-made, hurting no one. In fact, I'm helping people -- there are lots of lonely guys who are too shy to ask a girl out, or need some practice and training beforehand. Sometimes the guy really just wants to talk and cuddle; we don't even end up having sex. I would really be a fool not to take up this business. Just think how much of a market I have. A sure monopoly in the market for brown university students, given all the prudes that sit around worrying about their reputations. See? I'm fair and lovely. I can quench your wet sari fetish. I can be your exotic pussy, your red hot dot-head, your barely legal honey-dip! This is a niche with an itch. I can do it live, or on video, or on the phone, on demand. All because I'm sincere with my business and believe in total quality management. I can make out with sluts of other colors. Interracial and lesbian porn are hot commodities, so there I'm hitting two birds with one stone; no, three! I insist on condoms, being a peer health and sex educator and all, but I'll do soft-core threesomes, too; who wouldn't want to be the man in the middle? I've already wasted two years by starting at 20; if only I had really started as a barely legal I could have made a-"
"Just shut up!� Prasad shouted, trembling in fury. "I can't believe what I'm hearing at all. What would your father think! Now I�m convinced I'll move back to India to raise my kids. At least then they won't be exposed to this shameless sexual liberation propaganda of you morally degenerate feminists!"
"I see, I'm a feminist!" Sharmila smirked. "I'd like to see you run that by that Isha chick who seems to think that any time a woman expresses herself sexually, it's because she's trying to be more like a man, which of course is the worse thing possible. A lot of feminists seem to have forgotten about choice, like the one I'm exercising by using my body as a commodity in what's actually the most feminine way possible, profiting from the world's oldest profession. Just look at Ms. Meghana Subramaniam, self-proclaimed radical feminist whose article I just read yesterday, about challenging male sexual entitlement. She says political progress for women and other 'oppressed people' can't be reconciled with free-market capitalism, and sex workers who enter the business by choice set things back by cashing in on the intersection of capitalism and patriarchy."
"Yes, she is absolutely right," Prasad said, gathering himself. "It's sluts like you who make it difficult for girls who are actually trying to make an honest living in this world. No wonder the top companies are reluctant to hire girls -- entirely possible that some two-dollar whore like you might try to seduce customers or sleep her way to the top."
"I see; now feminism's on your side. And in what an interesting way, at that. Way to stick to your bow and arrow, Mr. Hindu Students' Council!" Sharmila cackled.
"You are sick!" Prasad shouted, standing up and pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "How much is the opportunity cost of your whorish enterprise? I have taken up some time when you could have been degrading womankind and mankind. How much do you want? One hundred? Two hundred?"
"I don't want your money, sweetie, just get out of my house," Sharmila replied, opening the door.
"No, let me pay you. You were expecting me to come give you money for your sick business, so I�ll at least do that much."
"Prasad, just get the fuck out unless you want me to call the cops on you for trespass."
Prasad stomped out, sweating in humiliation.
---------------------------
I came up with a novel idea (pun intended) in 2002, and wrote the above scene in 2003 (though I've touched it up a little for purposes of this post). I am now resurrecting the project -- maybe. I'm just going to write bits and pieces as I feel the inspiration. It might morph and take another form. Maybe it will just be a bunch of short stories. Or maybe it will just be this one blog entry.
I want the book to be satirical propaganda, without being too in your face about how I, as the author, feel about certain issues (until very late into the novel, at least). I want to give fair weight to a lot of perspectives and even give heavy credibility to some with which I violently disagree.
Above was an example that I would love some feedback on. Was it entertaining? Did it make you think? Was it really obvious where I stand on the issue of prostitution, in its relationship with feminism? Were the characters too contrived? Both of these characters are such that they can't altogether avoid being symbols/caricatures to some degree, but they should possess at least a modicum of realism. (It should be noted that these are fairly minor characters, but the issues raised by each weave throughout the novel and come up with many other characters. Also, the focus is not solely on sexuality, but is generally an anti-libertarian manifesto.)
Any and all feedback please... thanks!
posted by Leena @ 10:58 PM
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