Metro woman

The Bangalore Metro, and a child’s face pressed against the window; as it should be, curious of everything.

Blessed AC in a city that never cools.

Grandmas and uncles with coveted seats. ‘Sit, Auntie’ – subway politeness.

A beauty gets on: modern business pants, earphones. Effortlessly sexy.

A youngster stares possessively. Clearly an outdoors worker, physique lean and hand-me-down clothes. An envious, sullen longing for something unattainable.

Older married men stare too; half-remembered memories of their young nubile wives, before they became aunties worn down by endless domestic days. A slightly awed and impressed look – where were these modern women when they were not so modern, young men?

And a blind man, staring poetically and unseeing in her direction.

And she, uncaring, not looking at them.

And me looking at the men, looking at her.

And the kid, looking out the window.

As it should be.