ILLUSION OF LOVE (FEMALE VERSION)
1. The Glances
It was a Friday night, around nine o’clock, and the air inside the venue was thick with heavy perfume, sweat, and cheap alcohol. The familiar rhythm of ‘Dilbar Dilbar’ thundered through the speakers, shaking the floor beneath our feet. My friends and I were on stage, swaying to the music, lost in the routine of our dance. Paper notes rained down around us—thrown by men whose faces usually blurred into a single, forgettable crowd.
Then my eyes caught his.
He was standing near the edge of the dimly lit room, wearing a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans. He stood beside a friend, but unlike the other patrons in this red-light area, there was no predatory hunger in his expression. In a place where women like me were bought and sold, he radiated a quiet, gentle energy. In all my years here, I had never seen anyone look at me the way he did.
His eyes had been wandering the room, but the second our gaze met, time seemed to slow down. My heart fluttered wildly against my ribs. For a few awkward seconds, I couldn’t look away, and neither could he. He remained completely focused on me.
After a while, his friend leaned in, whispered something, and gestured toward the exit. He began to walk away, but before stepping out into the night, he turned back one last time. His eyes held a quiet reluctance, as if he didn't want to leave. I watched him until the heavy wooden door shut behind him.
After that night, he became a regular visitor. Every week, he would return, sit in the crowd, and let our eyes speak the words we couldn't say aloud.
2. A Knock in the Dark
A month passed in this silent courtship. We had never spoken a word, nor did we even know each other's names.
One evening, while I was performing on stage, I noticed him sitting in his usual chair, watching me intently. Suddenly, Sajana—one of the other dancers—walked up to him and leaned in close. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but watching them interact sent a sudden, unfamiliar pang of jealousy through my chest.
An hour later, I was back in my small, dimly lit dressing room. The music downstairs was a faint hum through the floorboards. I sat before the vanity mirror, wiping away layers of heavy makeup, when a soft knock rattled my door.
I set the cotton pad down, walked over, and pulled the door open. My breath caught in my throat. It was him.
“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice low and soft.
“Okay,” I murmured. I didn't know why I agreed so easily, but I stepped aside to let him in.
He sat down on the small sofa against the wall, while I returned nervously to my chair. An awkward silence filled the room. My mind raced, and I kept glancing around, unable to hold his steady gaze. He didn't look away once, which only made my pulse race faster.
Breaking the quiet, he spoke. “Will you go out with me tomorrow, Nujeena?”
I froze. “How do you know my name?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “We always find out the names of the people we love.”
Silence settled over us again, heavier this time. Stunned by his directness, I stared at the floor, searching for words.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he nudged gently.
“Which question?”
“Will you come out with me tomorrow?”
I swallowed hard, trying to guard myself. “Why should I go anywhere with a stranger?”
“Because outside of this place, there is a whole world waiting for you—a beautiful world I want to show you,” he said softly. “Don't worry about your work here. I’ve already spoken to your boss and paid for your time tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 6:00 pm. Please be ready.”
Before I could answer, he stood up and walked out, leaving me alone with my chaotic thoughts.
3. Shared Dreams and Hidden Shadows
The next evening, we sat across from each other in a quiet café. Despite his gentle demeanor, I felt out of place away from the dark rooms of the establishment. Sensing my discomfort, he offered a warm, reassuring smile.
A waiter approached our table. “Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?”
He turned to me. “I’m ordering a milk coffee and a plate of chicken momos for myself. Nujeena, what would you like?”
“Whatever you order is fine,” I replied quietly.
He asked the waiter to double the order. Once the waiter walked away, he leaned across the table, his posture turning serious. “Nujeena, I brought you here because I need to tell you something important.”
“Please, go ahead,” I said, resting my hands in my lap.
“I am in love with you,” he said directly. “And I want to marry you.”
My breath hitched. “What?”
“I mean it. I fell in love with you the very first night I saw you on that stage. There were so many women, but you were the only one I saw. I want to build a life with you, Nujeena. I want to bring joy back into your world.”
I stared at him, overwhelmed. “We barely know each other’s names. How can you talk about marriage? And besides... you know what I do for a living. Do you really think your family or society will ever accept a woman like me as your wife?”
He shook his head gently. “I don’t care about your past. I only care about you. We have plenty of time to learn about each other. Let me start by telling you who I am: my name is Sanjog Shakya. I run an alcohol and clothing shop near Durbar Marg. My parents passed away in a road accident a few years ago, so it's just me.”
“I still don't know who you really are,” I hesitated. “We’ve only shared glances. We haven't spent real time together.”
“Then let’s spend time together,” he replied earnestly. “Meet me, talk to me, and make your decision after that.”
“My boss won’t let me leave every day,” I reminded him sadly.
“Leave that to me,” Sanjog said with conviction.
Shortly after, our steaming plates of momos and fresh coffee arrived. We ate in comfortable conversation, and when we finished, Sanjog paid the bill, walked me back, and made sure I made it home safely.
4. A Decision Built on Fear and Hope
Back at the quarters, I sat on the edge of my bed and confided in Sajana.
“Sanjog proposed to me today,” I whispered. “He asked me to marry him.”
Sanjana’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And what did you say?”
“I didn’t give him an answer.”
“Are you crazy?” Sajana gasped, sitting beside me. “If a man like that proposed to me, I would have said yes before he even finished his sentence! He’s handsome, he looks like a movie star, and he has his own business. This is your ticket out of this hell. Say yes!”
“I... I think I love him too,” I confessed, my voice trembling. “But I’m terrified, Sajana. Society is ruthless. They will never accept someone from my background.”
Sanjana took my hands in hers, her expression softening. “Society eventually moves on, Nujeena. People forget. You have a right to happiness just like anyone else. Sanjog is a good man, and opportunities like this don't come twice. Say yes to him.”
As Sajana spoke, my heart swelled with a mixture of hope and paralyzing fear. My mind drifted backward into the shadows of the life that had brought me here.
5. Ghosts of the Past
My childhood ended the day my mother died.
She left behind six children—four daughters and two sons. Without her, our family spiraled into unbearable poverty. To cope, my father turned heavily to alcohol. Instead of working to feed us, he spent what little money we had on drinks and beat us mercilessly when he came home drunk.
Then came the night that destroyed everything.
My siblings were asleep on the thin floor mats, while I stayed up waiting for my father. When he finally stumbled through the door late at night, he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a stranger with cold, dark eyes. They retreated into my father's room, whispering in low, hushed tones.
Half an hour later, the door to my room opened. The stranger walked in and approached my mat. Before I could scream, his heavy hand clamped over my mouth. He forced himself on me while I fought frantically beneath him, weeping silently.
When I confronted my father the next day, bruised and broken, he simply told me to keep my mouth shut. I soon realized what had happened: my father had sold me. From that night on, the stranger returned frequently, and my father abused me as well.
Eventually, when my father ran out of money entirely, he brought me to this establishment in Thamel and sold me to the owner. In the beginning, I tried to run away, but I was caught and beaten. For years, I endured the touch of strangers, hiding in dark corners afterward to cry where no one could see my tears. I was trapped, enduring the humiliation only because the money I earned was sent back home to keep my younger siblings from starving.
I had seen hundreds of men pass through this place, but Sanjog was different. He felt like a savior who had come to pull me out of the deep dark pit I was trapped in. Yet, as I lay in bed thinking of his proposal, a sinister doubt whispered in the back of my mind: What if he is just like the rest? What if he uses me and throws me away?
6. The Promise
A week later, at 8:00 pm, Sanjog arrived at the establishment in Thamel. He waited patiently near the bar until my shift ended. When I finally walked up to my room, he followed closely behind.
I unlocked the door and gestured for him to enter. I sat on the edge of the sofa, while he pulled up a chair opposite me.
Without beating around the bush, he asked gently, “Have you thought about my proposal, Nujeena?”
Silence filled the room once more. He searched my face for any sign of hope, but I remained frozen, unable to find my voice.
Misinterpreting my silence, his face fell. A look of deep pain crossed his features. “I see,” he said softly, standing up. “If your silence is a no, I understand. I shouldn't have pushed you. I'll leave now.”
He turned and walked slowly toward the door. Panic seized me. The thought of losing him forever outweighed every fear I had carried.
I jumped up from the sofa. “Wait! I’ll marry you! I’m ready!”
Sanjog stopped in his tracks. He turned around, his face instantly lighting up with an radiant, genuine smile. He rushed back across the room and pulled me into a tight embrace.
“You’ve made me the happiest man alive,” he whispered into my hair. “I promise you won't regret this.”
7. A Moment of Peace
For the next month, as we prepared for our life together, we met regularly. Sanjog paid off my remaining debt to the establishment owner, allowing me to finally resign from my job.
On my last day at the quarters, Sajana helped me pack my few belongings.
“Are you really happy, Nujeena?” she asked, hugging her knees on the bed.
I smiled, a real, lighthearted smile that reached my eyes. “I truly am. I was terrified at first, Sajana. But over this past month, he has proven how gentle and caring he is. When I'm with him, the past doesn't hurt as much. I just want to stay by his side forever.”
“I’m so glad,” Sajana said, pulling me into a warm embrace.
On July 6, 2016, Sanjog and I were married in a simple ceremony. Neither my family nor his relatives attended, but standing beside him in my simple bridal attire, I didn't care. I felt overwhelmingly blessed, believing that the dark chapter of my life had finally closed.
8. The Departure
Just one week after our wedding, I stood in the doorway of our small bedroom, watching Sanjog pack a heavy suitcase. A cold sense of foreboding settled in my chest, and tears welled in my eyes.
Seeing my expression, Sanjog closed his suitcase, walked over, and pulled me gently into his arms.
“Please don’t cry, my love,” he whispered, wiping a tear from my cheek. “It’s only for two weeks. I have to go to London to handle an urgent business matter for my shop. As soon as I return, we’ll go on a proper honeymoon, and I promise I will devote all my time to you.”
“Two weeks feels like an eternity,” I sobbed, clinging to his jacket. “How am I supposed to stay in this empty house without you?”
“I’ll call you every single day,” he promised softly, kissing my forehead. “I'll be back before you know it.”
With those final words, he picked up his bags and left.
9. The Betrayal
Four months passed.
Two weeks had turned into months of total silence. Sanjog had never returned to Nepal. He never called, and whenever I tried dialing his number, it rang endlessly into the void or went straight to voicemail. Trapped alone in the apartment with no income and growing desperation, I finally decided to walk back to Thamel to seek comfort from the only friend I had.
When I arrived, Sajana was overjoyed to see me and quickly pulled me into her room.
“Nujeena! It’s been months!” she exclaimed. “Look at you! How is married life treating you?”
I looked down at my hands, unable to maintain eye contact.
“Nujeena? What’s wrong?” she asked, her smile fading.
“He’s been gone for four months,” I choked out, tears overflowing. “He went to London and never came back. He won't answer my calls. I don't know what to do, Sajana.”
Before Sajana could comfort me, commotion erupted in the hallway. Loud shouting and heavy footsteps echoed through the building. The door burst open—it was a police raid.
Officers swarmed the building, rounding up all the women, including me. Despite my protests that I no longer worked there, I was shoved into the back of a police van and brought to the central station.
At the station, Sajana pleaded desperately with the officer in charge. “Inspector Aditya, please! You have to let Nujeena go! She doesn't work here anymore! She’s happily married now—her husband is away in London on business!”
Inspector Aditya looked up from his desk, skeptical. “A husband in London? How do I know you're not making this up to get out of custody?”
“I have his number!” I cried out, stepping forward. “You can call him right now. He will tell you!”
Inspector Aditya took the piece of paper where I had scribbled Sanjog’s international number. He picked up the landline desk phone and dialed the digits, putting the call on speakerphone.
The line rang several times before a familiar voice answered.
“Hello?”
My heart leapt into my throat. It was Sanjog.
“Hello,” Inspector Aditya said in a stern tone. “Is this Sanjog Shakya?”
“Yes, speaking. Who is this?”
“This is Inspector Aditya from the Kathmandu police department. I have a woman here named Nujeena. Do you know her?”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
“Nujeena? Who is Nujeena?”
Inspector Aditya frowned. “Your wife.”
A cold, dismissive laugh came through the speaker. “Wife? What are you talking about? I am not married.”
Click.
The call disconnected, leaving a deafening silence in the room.
I froze, the blood draining from my face. My breath caught in my throat, and the room began to spin.
Inspector Aditya slammed the phone down and glared at me. “You lied to an officer. Do you have any actual proof or legal marriage documents on you?”
I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. The words “I am not married” echoed endlessly inside my head, shattering what was left of my heart. Seeing my utter state of shock, Sajana and the other women begged the inspector to show mercy. After hours of agonizing questioning, Inspector Aditya finally released me with a harsh warning.
I stumbled out of the police station into the cold night air. The city around me felt distant, like a bad dream. The sweet words, the gentle smiles, the promises of a beautiful world—they were all a calculated lie. A elaborate cruelty.
10. Vanishing Light
In the weeks that followed, Sanjog blocked my number completely. I had no address for him in London, no connection to his alleged family, and no way to trace him. I was left entirely alone in a city that felt hostile and cold.
Desperation crept in quickly. I had no formal education, no work experience outside the establishment, and no savings left. The landlord eventually evicted me from the apartment, leaving me with nothing.
I was forced to return to the dark, narrow alleys of Thamel, but my spirit was completely broken. The trauma of my childhood, combined with Sanjog's devastating betrayal, sank me into a deep, inescapable depression.
Every night, as I closed my eyes, his fake promises echoed in my mind. My mother had abandoned me through death, my father had sold my body, and the one man I trusted with my heart had treated my soul like a game.
I sat alone in a tiny rented room, looking out at the dark sky. The "beautiful world" Sanjog had promised to show me was nothing more than a mirage. I had no hope left, no faith in love, and no strength to keep fighting a life that brought only pain.
With tears streaming down my face and a heart heavy with grief, I reached for the bottle on my bedside table, ready to finally end the nightmare.
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