Second Day Of Third Year

Back to home in a baking furnace, the only vessel I found that fortunately had a vacant seat;

The seat behind which are a multitude of boys.

Teasing, noises, and whistles.

Cooing, and Mooing is all that is heard amidst the honking of the driver.

What is it, that grabbed their Attention?

Is it me, the only girl who fancies her veil?

Is it me, the only girl who sits at the border of the "ladies only" territory?

Or is it them, who have no culture?

I grabbed the front rails, hoping that it wasn't me, their prime object;

For I know what it is like, being their prime object.

I planned what I should do, should an unplanned assault aim at me:

An act of a coward they would say, because I complained to the bus in charge.

Muslim Vijaya Shanthi they would say, because I punched them for being wolves.

Later they will say "we didn't mean you"

They signalled the girl who was two seats in front of me.

Vapour felt like breeze, when i realized that it wasn't me, their prime object.

They asked for water, to which she gave, utterly surprised.

They asked for more water, and more water,

and more water until both her friend's and herself got over.

Breeze now felt like fumes, when I realized that she too can't do anything.

Nor can most girls, when faced with an unplanned assault.