She had a heart of gold. She was pure within. Trapped in the murky world, with nowhere to go, she led a miserable life and bore all hardships with fake smiles and fake orgasms.

The quintessential prostitute in Hindi films found herself in the red light area not because she had desired to pursue this profession but because a wily relative had lured her with the promise of a lucrative job or a treacherous lover had shared her bed and then sold her for a hefty amount to a brothel-owner most often a big, fat woman - well past her prime - decked in garish outfit and weird make-up.

With amazing narrative legerdemain the victim’s sob story was told on celluloid several times: a hapless, innocent woman sucked into the vortex of crime and grime.

Care was exercised to make sure that the prostitute was a reluctant entrant into this seamy business - certainly not a woman who was glad to service clients and make a fast buck. It would send a strong negative signal by glorifying the life of the disgraced woman.

Indian audiences would not accept that.

Directors had archetypical examples of atrocities to dwell upon. Rapacious businessmen sought release by gorging on the flesh of the buxom whores and then slipped into the civilised world before daybreak.

Middlemen eked out a living by terrorising sex workers and striking fancy deals on their behalf. Macho escorts prevented their escape from the confines of the claustrophobic domain.

Sexual aberrations and carnal excesses were depicted in order to the present a candid, ringside view of the wretched lives of sex workers who were further harassed by men in uniform.

Scriptwriters found this dark world worth visiting to hunt for stories of deprivation, how these deviant, strayed women tolerated injustice and why such victims were never accepted in the mainstream society unless of course an intrepid hero fell in love and decided to marry a prostitute.

High octane drama, bizarre twists and turns followed. A strong, unconventional message would spin severe ramifications on the society. To play safe, scripts were tailored to present a picture of the victim’s innocence.

Though society has evolved and there are several cases of women joining the fray either for big bucks or the pleasure factor, it cannot be presented that the Indian woman has a dynamic sexual identity of her own, that she can make a choice that contravenes the norms followed in society.

Very few actresses seem inclined to essay the prostitute’s role even if a good director or writer is involved in the project.

It has to do with her well-crafted image as by doing the role of a whore she is not confident of whether her fan following will see a spurt or decline.

Fear assails her mind regarding smooch scenes, skin show and bold love-making scenes being justified in the script.

Sharmila Tagore played the role of a prostitute in Gulzar’s Mausam. Her performance won plaudits.

Shyam Benegal’s Mandi delved deep into the world of prostitutes and gave the likes of Shabana Azmi the chance to deliver a fabulous performance without titillating the audiences.

Mahesh Bhatt’s Sadak showed the road to commercial success. Here, Pooja Bhatt was forced into this seedy world dominated by sinister Sadashiv Amrapurkar only to be rescued by her Man Friday.

Tabu enacted the role of a bar dancer in Chandni Bar and gave a searing portrayal of the goings-on.

Kareena Kapoor, the eponymous heroine of the film, Chameli was a recent addition to this list. Though not much skin show was allowed here, she looked quite ravishing.

The only downside was that though she had tried to make her behaviour and mannerisms appear vulgar to the core, her face retained sweetness and charm which not many prostitutes are supposed to possess while soliciting on the streets.

Directors have introduced classification. On the one side, there are women who dole out sexual services - crass coital banging in dingy rooms. On the other side, there are women who found merit in pursuing art and culture.

Not belonging to the pack of philistines, these courtesans were patronised by feudal lords with working knowledge of music and poetry. They sang and danced in the classical form. Men lined up at their sprawling, opulent rooms illumined with huge chandeliers.

Decadent aristocrats listened to their mellifluous singing to be transported to the bygone era.

The rich and powerful showered currency notes on the dancers while their accompanists picked these up amid a huge round of applause when the courtesans sang thumris, ghazals, and love songs to energise and soothe their prized clients.

They drank and smoked, closed their eyes to listen to beautiful renditions while the commoners sat huddled in a corner, with flushed faces, to enjoy the alluring gyrations.

Many film directors, who did not want the heroine to be a prostitute to avoid vulgar connotations, chose to cast her a dancer.

Rotund men sat with bolsters around, with flowers around the wrist. These dancers presented sensuous numbers and sometimes offered a view of her cleavage or midriff, sat close to the wealthy merchant or poured wine in the goblet.

The only distinction being made here was that the courtesan or kothewali was a trained singer who entertained men with her vocal qualities and did not offer sexual favours, which sort of added a ring of purity to her character.

Another twist was the arrival of the noble-hearted hero who climbed up the stairs of the dancer’s abode to seek relaxation.

When he saw her, he grew attracted to her and in some cases she fell in love with him and was ready to go anywhere with him. In some cases, the courtesan lost her love and sang sad songs.

Finally, she sacrificed her life because in the dirty world of men who secretly craved for her body, she was surprised the hero did not exploit her when she was more than willing to give everything of hers.

Rekha performed such a dancer’s role in Muqaddar ka Sikandar so well - Salaam-e-Ishq Meri Jaan - that one feels her appearance and act must have inspired Muzaffar Ali to cast her as Umrao Jaan in the aesthetically shot flick.

There isn’t much new in the dreary life of a prostitute to allure the viewer. Predictable stuff of exploitation, deprivation, torture, heartbreak, misfortune that scriptwriters don’t want to touch with a barge-pole.

Not many people are fond of spending a night in a brothel when there are better options for illicit liaisons, for one-night flings available everywhere around: pubs, discos, colleges, workplace.

Filmmakers prefer to ignore the harsh realities of this section of society for the obvious lack of punch in ideas to explore their pathetic existence in penury and the dearth of reasons to explain their unexpected, unfortunate arrival and struggle for survival in the abominable world of flesh trade.