When they called me a hooker !

 I wear short skirts.

I drink beer like a 40 year old man.

 I smoke occasionally.

I wear red lipstick all the time. 

I dance like no one is watching . 

And yes, I am not a hooker.


It’s unjust to put the blades on the patriarchy alone and blame them to suppress the fire within a girl. It’s  wrong to blame men to oogle at the TIP of my skirt as if it’s gonna split up , exposing my bare ass on their faces. It’s unjust to blame a man to exchange glances at me (oh it hurts when it is a cute guy)and imagine he stands a chance to get  a one night stand with me. It’s unjust to blame 60 year old adults to glare at me every time I ask for a cigarette. It’s unjust to blame the entire xy chromosome dominance to think I m asking for it ,cause I wear a red lipstick. It’s unjust cause women pay equal Token to watch and be a part of this show of name-calling.

Wikipedia explains a hooker as a woman who is engaged in sexual activity in exchange for money. 

I am a woman.Done with the first criteria! 

Engaged in sexual activity. Well this is a confusing statement. Cause sex drives are basic human needs. Healthy sex with a partner or many partners is a question of choice to some and to others it’s the only option left. Let’s not call it a dirty business. Let’s not keep the things that go on behind closed doors as something nasty and something that is looked down upon. Let’s talk, if not do something not to molest it’s name. Let’s imagine the pain a woman goes though the entire time to mute the raging hormones of a man. Had it not been her, he would have searched for an easy target. That target could have been any girl . Any part of her which could be penetrated in and ejaculate his unresting libido. Spare a moment to thank her! Thank the hooker.

Imagine the end of a situation, the end whose limit is over the pain of hunger as if someone pulled out the gut and twisted it to a point to scoop out your soul. Something  much more painful. Something like seeing your new born cry his lungs out in hunger. Something more painful than the thought that if you could cut every piece of meat in your wrecking body to feed his little belly. Yes I  am talking about that something. Something more dreadful. Something that would make you sell yourself as a piece of meat . To be devoured, skinned , chewed to the last bit of your bone ; every night. The thing which you call lovemaking is nothing more than a barbaric horror that you would want to forget, but it comes as a horric ghost every night. Spare a moment to Pat her. Applaud her spirit to keep going and still desire to live in this world where she is no less than just a pebble . A pebble which we either hop off or kick to the side of the road. Applaud that hooker!

I have been a Bond fan ,the James Bond 007. Sleeping around with many hot women, chewing tobacco, that big cigar, cars, drinks , lavish life . I guess what would be the name of the movie if Bond was a girl. May be Bond , the Harlot.  But she is more than it . More than any Bond. More than Batman even (I guess the evils in Gotham didn’t penetrate him each night). She is more. She is more than her pretty face. More than her exposed dress. Whoever she is , I cannot imagine to be her. I can’t imagine to be someone so strong.  Sorry for your disappointment but after all your name callings I can’t pass off to be a HOOKER.

All you girls who dress modest, sleep early, don’t drink , don’t smoke ,don’t party out loud. Yes you are civilized. You are a girl whom a man marries. You are a girl who gets a respect in society . Yes you exist. BIG DEAL!  But I ponder over your enquiry over my tiniest pair of black dress, my high heels, my brightest red coloured lipstick, the increasing size of my ass(  I swear no man, but beer did that) , that how can that qualify me into the sleek section of your thesaurus to be  synonymous to a hooker. 

YES , EVEN IF I ….

…. WEAR SHORT SKIRTS,

….DRINK BEER LIKE A MAN,

….SMOKE OCCASIONALLY,

….WEAR RED LIPSTICK.

SORRY I CANT BE A HOOKER. NOT EVEN CLOSE. EVEN IF I PUT IN ALL I HAVE .

PERIOD!

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22 thoughts on “When they called me a hooker !

  1. A coin has two sides head and tail which one of the side carries the priority. I think non of them what only matter is that coin alone and its value. So here men and women are the two sides of a coin what matters is human,humanity and his her values that they carry and earn day by day by there good deeds…..not an answer i know just wrote what i thought….

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I feel you on this. I wore pink lipstick one day and the first comment I got on it was asking me if I was a hookers. I was in jeans and a t-shirt in college. Isn’t that crazy how people just connect everything together? Its a shame…

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Tgat point ,where you states that we should thank hooker because of them few girls are saved they take all the harmonal rush and pain.Thats soemthing i have alqays thought and who are we to judge anyone on the profession they had to take .

    Liked by 1 person

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