In Kolkata Airport, after 13 hours of sleepless noise, I marched to collect my bag. My limbs hung loose like a rag doll's, held in place by a single thread. The idea of lifting a bag foreboded me. But I did, and the contents of the plane marched on like zombies to the exit of the terminal.
I hope to come back to Ireland richer. My friends said that 'India is mad, you come back richer, but penniless' and through listening to their experiences, my thirst for my own grew. Now I'm here, I want to make a difference. If not for India, for myself.

Just outside the terminal I was greeted by dusty night and silence. There is a railed rat run for former prisoners of flight to leave the building by. Here I experienced the first smell of my trip, the
smell of sulphur. Which caused me to cringe, but because I'm a sport, I ignored it. I was expecting; sun, activity, music, culture. But this dusty place resembled a graveyard. Where everyone is a stranger. I looked around the stale path. No taxis.

A man sitting by a table was staring at me. I approached him and asked 'taxi?'
The moustached man was thin, and holding a solemn look on his face. He slowly lifted his finger and pointed at a kiosk embedded in the wall. It was so dimly lit that it was almost impossible to see. He said very loudly "Taxi Kiosk!", and looked at me as if I had judged him.

My driver led me to our taxi, he even took my bag for me. As I passed the other confused westerners at the end of the rat run I couldn't help but experience a feeling of achievement. The trip was going well so far and I had already gotten use to the smell of sulpher. This is going well.

The walk to the taxi was very long. We got further and further away from the airport, and as the distance increased I noticed bizarre things. A naked child, no older than 3 years of age was asleep under a car, families of people huddled together in sleep. I observed all these things and more just walking to the taxi, which now seemed to be a 5 minute journey. Why had he parked so far away?

Through all these distractions, a distance had grown between me and the driver. Unfortunately, I hadn't noticed this until I was approached by a girl brushing past me.
Fear kidnapped my mind the moment she grinded past me, and my hand shot back to the back of my head. I let out a small, cowardly gasp. She walked calmly in front of me, as if to ignore my less than admirable reaction. The girl looked no older than 14, her clothes were withered and filthy; as if used to clean windows. She wore no shoes, her feet were riddled with scars and scrapes. Why had she brushed against me? It felt so unnecessary, there was plenty of room to walk elsewhere.

I trekked on, attempting to dismiss it as something of insignificance, a mistake even. Seconds had past before she turned around, whilst walking backwards, and stared deep into my eyes. An enlightening smile was spread across her face...I felt almost safe in that smile, I felt at eases, relieved if anything. Her pace descended, and I began to catch up with her. My naïve little mind convincing me she was nothing but an innocent little child.

Up close, I could see her life story in her face. An intimidating large scar smeared across her cheek, a beautiful face destroyed by an incident, her hair covered in coconut oil.

Now she was close enough to engage me, she began to wink at me. I winked back in an awkward style, as if we were playing a game or simply just entertaining ourselves.
Fear spread through ever limb of my body...it was indescribable, I suddenly felt on edge I searched for my safety net; my driver. He did not appear to be too far away.
Suddenly the girl grabbed my hand tightly, trying to get me to slow down. Mind lost in a world of confusion and inexperienced fear, I tore my hand away, setting her off balance. I shouted "GO AWAY," bluntly directly to her face.

She dismissively persisted to smile up at me and attempted to clutch my hand yet again. In the process of doing this, she grabbed my waist, staring up at me, all the time winking profusely, as if I was missing something. A child searching for a friend is all she appeared to be to me.
"Stop! Leave me alone!" I demanded out of desperation.
What can I do? How can I stop this? As these thoughts sailed through my head, the driver reentered the scene, he roared at the girl in Indian. The girl's face suddenly changed in the blink of an eye from an innocent sweet child, to an enraged wild animal ready to snap. Her cold hand released mine. I felt free, as if released from torture. I watched as she slowly faded into the distance, still winking away at me ever more wishful. I turned calmly and followed the driver like a scared dog.

Upon turning, the girl howled into the night, screaming like a wild animal. I glanced back to see her kicking her scarred feet in the air and clawing at the back of parked cars. We had finally reached the taxi, I stared in awe at the taxi driver, as if he was some sort of hero. He pointed his finger dismissively at the girl... "Prostitute", he explained.

As the engine roared and vehicle sped off, I sat absent minded in the back seat. I was in shock, my sheltered life had never experienced a more disgusting nor disturbing image than who that girl would be paid by tonight, or how she would earn this money. My throat tightened, stomach coughed up disgust as I violently vomited on the car floor. This was met by screaming and shouting by the driver who wasn't impressed by the chicken they gave me on my flight. My final feeling was for the first time ever, overpowering homesickness.

*Story based on real events.
(I read that you should let known any inspiration. So that's mine.)
**I also read the question... Read the question in future Conor.