Q&A Interview: My Truth as an Independent Escort in Vijayanagar, Bangalore

Q: How did your journey as an Independent escort in Vijayanagar begin?

My story started far away from Bangalore, in the heat and stillness of Tirunelveli. I was a typical Tamil woman raised in a modest family town where life felt predictable and safe. Yet life, as I learned, can twist faster than any fiction novel. Everything changed overnight, and I found myself walking a path I never imagined, the path that eventually shaped me into one of the most sought-after Independent escorts in Vijayanagar, Bangalore.

Q: Did you ever imagine entering the escort profession?

Not at all. I grew up sheltered, unaware of escorting or the idea of selling intimacy. Fate, however, has its own dark humour. The life I understood collapsed after a turbulent marriage. My husband was fragile in ways that made him dangerous. Leaving him was not bravery; it was survival. And survival took me places innocence never warned me about.

Q: What pushed you toward escorting?

When I left home, I carried fear, shame, and exhaustion. Bangalore’s glitter offered escape, and in that confusion, escorting felt like the only door that opened. Yes, the money was real, breathtakingly real. But every note carried a shadow. People say “Escorting is easy money,” and maybe they’re right, just as fire is “easy warmth.” Touch it without care, and it burns you straight to the bone.

Q: What was the emotional cost of the work?

When strangers claim your body, something inside you goes quiet. Something dims. You may bathe a hundred times, but no fragrance can wash away the heaviness that settles inside the soul. Many women in this profession bear silent resentment toward the men who buy them, even while they serve them. I didn’t hate men, but I hated the version of myself I had to become. By the time I found clarity, parts of me were already buried in the past.

The primary spiritual teacher at Isha Yoga in Coimbatore once told me, “Everyone who sleeps with you leaves a trace of their essence behind.”
Whether true or not, I carry more traces than I wish to remember.

Q: How different was your life in Tirunelveli compared to Bangalore?

The contrast was extreme. Tirunelveli raised me on tradition. Women were expected to tend to the home, while men dealt with the outside world. This difference forged the old belief that men and women were fundamentally opposite.

Working-class women broke their bodies in the house,
while men broke their nights in bars.

From this imbalance grew stereotypes that boxed women into two tired roles, the pure saint or the fallen sinner. Desire, of course, never followed these rules. Men were allowed freedom; women paid the price for wanting the same.

Q: And Bangalore, did it change the narrative?

Bangalore gave new settings, but the old script endured. Today, as a high-end Independent escort in Vijayanagar, Bangalore, I earn over ₹30,000 for two hours of my time. I shaped a fractured life into one of financial stability and personal strength.

The Bangalore escorts‘ life runs on quiet deals, coded language, and hidden desires. Sex is a thriving business here, sophisticated, profitable, and brutally competitive. I don’t stand in it as a victim or a saint. I stand as a woman who refused to collapse.

Q: How do you view the phrase “the world’s oldest profession”?

For years, I believed in that worn-out line, “Prostitution is the world’s oldest profession.” But history paints a different picture. (Oldest profession, n.d.) In ancient India, women were seen as passionate, powerful, and equally desiring. They weren’t born to absorb male lust; instead, they participated in desire with freedom and agency. (Kama Sutra, n.d.)

Colonial morality, post-Independence patriarchy, and rigid gender roles rewrote our identity. They reduced sexuality to sin and women’s bodies to excuses for policing honour. (Sangari et al., 1989)