Tuesday, February 19, 2013


The woman faced away from me. Her long, straight hair lay prettily, gently blowing in the breeze to afford others sneak peeks of her slender back. Her pale skin formed a striking contrast to the peacock blue of her deep-cut blouse. Her silk sari was magenta, veined with blue.

As she sat there, a young girl - large timid eyes, dry, cracked lips and sun-bleached hair, a nylon sari draped across her malnourished frame - walked up, selling clips and safety pins.

The woman in magenta picked out a clip, and as she leant forward to pay, her hair fell to one side, revealing on her shoulder blade a beautiful, large, butterfly tattoo.

The girl gasped. Her eyes remained riveted to the tattoo even as she fumbled for exact change. The tattooed woman smiled - a mix of vanity and shyness. The young girl's expression went from shock to awe to envy. She narrowed her eyes. Then she straightened up, rearranged her face into a confident smile. She shrugged and extended her arm, pointing to a sketchily inked "Krishna" on her skinny forearm, and walked away.


sukanya said...

How observant of you.
You seem to having a lot of fun on the train rides! and you made me nostalgic of my Bombay days.

dipali said...

I'm looking forward to a compilation of these wonderful train stories!

Thinking Cramps said...

Sukanya, Dipali: :) I don't think I'll ever run out of material as long as I keep taking the train!