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.