I’d been too lost in my own thoughts, to notice the hand that was creeping along my back. The snake-like movement snapped me back to reality. I turned around to look at the asshole who dared touch me. The asshole was the perfect picture of a Gentleman. He looked back at me as if he was ignorant of what his hand had just done. I gave him a warning look and turned back to the view outside the window. When you sit by the window seat, it is very easy to lose yourself to your own thoughts. And that is exactly what happened. Pretty soon, I was back to the thoughts I’d been forced to leave half completed, moments before.
Moments later, the hand was creeping along my back. Again. This time, I was not going to let it be. I grabbed the hand, and gave it a nice twist. I twisted until the asshole was screaming “Mercy”. Mind you, all this while, I did not utter a word. But I didn’t let go.
The bus came to a stop. The passengers gathered around us, asking me to let go. Finally, the asshole opened his vile mouth and said,” I am a respectable man. I normally don’t do these kinds of things. If only she had dressed more decently…It’s her clothes that tempted me!! I swear!!” This statement caught the attention of the mob. Their eyes were on me now. I could see the agreement dawn in their eyes. It was the way they were sizing me up. I knew then, that I wouldn’t find a soul to support me.
So I did the only thing I could. I kicked the asshole with all my might, where it would make him count stars, bent down and whispered into his ears, ” This is so that you wouldn’t be tempted to grope girls in short skirts anymore…” and I got out of the bus without saying a word.
There were a lot of middle-aged women donning a sari, in that bus. I wonder, how many Gentlemen lost the control of their libido at the sight of naked skin, and went ahead to grope them.
Sad, sad, human beings.
She had forgotten what little pleasures like a simple walk at night, could do to a person. Since she had the freedom to do just that, she decided to take full advantage of the situation. She fished out her MP3 from her jacket. To add icing to the cake, she let her hair loose and let the night breeze play with her hair. Happiness as she had never felt before, filled her heart and it reflected in her eyes and face. They glowed. In harmony with the moon.
What would she do once she got back home? Home seemed like a place so far away. A place that asked her to be inside the four walls by dusk. Personal space is a foreign concept there. And if she were to tell her mum about her late night walks, she would have seizure.
No. She wouldn’t think about that now. A beautiful night as this is not to be spoiled by such cloudy thoughts.For once she is going to let herself be.
This stroll, is her slice of freedom and she is going to savor it. Slowly and reverently. Just because.
You know how women talk about rakes? How they ask their daughters to stay away from them? Well, I am one of those. And yet, they don’t suspect me at all. I get to touch them, play with their hair and sometimes I even lift their skirts. In fact most women love me. Some tell me that, my touch brings back good old memories to them. Well, who am I to deny these beauties what they crave?
I’ve got to say, not all women are lovely. There are some really grumpy old hags. And I don’t leave them alone either. Oh no, I don’t. I splash them with in-your-face bad odors of all kinds – rotten fish, garbage – you know the kind.But the dreamy ones; thank God for them. There is nothing in the world as beautiful as the eyes of a dreamy woman. They are my all time favorites. I play with their hair and I run my fingers along their arms and neck – you know, anything to tease a smile out of their lips.
Oh, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I am the all phenomenal, omnipresent wind. At least, that is what these humans like to call me. But I am a rake. I am the definition of the word.
Wind, my foot.
A roller coaster ride
Eyes that see through walls (read shirts and kurtis)
Hands that grope
Ear splitting noises of other vehicles
Groaning radio and movie songs
Stench of sweat and coconut hair oil
A sigh of relief on reaching the destination –
For having made it alive and in one piece.
This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is a Kochi bus ride for you.
A quiver of the lips,
A crinkle in the eye – The general definition of a friendly gesture.
I call it make up- a lie.
A few touches here and a few there,
And all the scars, and blotches are hidden.
The easier way.
“cheese!” – And the flash goes.
I think its starting to bleed.
She smiles with her eyes.
You look at her, and you see nothing but her eyes.
I wonder if she is actually smiling, or just creasing her eyes.
I’ll never know I guess.
The whole world sees oppression in her blacked veil,
But not me.
I say, she has invisibility at the palm of her hands.
Invisibility, in the midst of a world loosing boundaries.
Did I mention? She has beautiful eyes.