The Buses

The Bus 1

I stand in the bus
The crowd sways behind me
My dupatta catches the flow
But oh! Now the flow chokes me.


The Bus 2

I stand in the bus.
Just behind the steps.
Two hands of different people
On either side of my neck
Grab hold of the metal bar in front
Immobility.


The Bus 3

Smelly people
With rough synthetic clothes
Rub against my skin
While reaching for support
My hand brushes past a woman’s head
And is coated with her oil.


The Bus 4

I stand near the steps
As people get in
The women hit my face as they enter
No apologies.


The Bus 5

At the back, a man,
His hand at a woman’s posterior
I glare.
He gets off at the next stop.


The Bus 6

Balancing on a bus is like
Practicing karate stances
And surfing at the same time
We become flexible, strong armed
Acrobats.