By Yogi
I feel suffocated in this crowded ladies’ compartment. Pressed between fat women holding handle bars, their saris stuck to their sweaty bodies and their blouses unabashedly displaying the sweat marks under their arms, my body sways to the rhythm of the train. I touch my belly, feel the life inside me, and dream of fresh air.
Later, I stare into a bright light beneath a green-masked surgeon and a nurse with emotionless eyes, and I hear a small heart beating. There is no time for pity now, or despair, and I decide here this whore’s child will find a better world.
Love the emotion in this. And the evocative description of the ladies’ carriage.
Thank you Anna. That’s how it works to this day..in the Mumbai local trains.
Great story. Can really visualise this piece. ?
The ? Was a smiley face. Don’t know why it posted as a question mark:)
Tragic.
Brilliant.
Really powerful. So much packed into so few words.
We can only hope so.
You reminded me of Mumbai, my birth place. All so nostalgic