Ganesha smiles

Garish golden plastic Ganesha, with paint chipping off,

Holds pride of place, 

Perched at the very centre before the windshield.

Seated below bright orange Hanuman that hangs above him.

And so he stares and smiles benevolently at everyone before him.

He smiles at the skinny little child in the front seat,

On her mamma's lap, 

Hair oiled and pulled back so tight into tiny pigtails 

That they almost pull her eyes apart.

Thin, wiry earrings with shiny red beads glisten as the burning hot sun hits it through the window glass.

He smiles at the child's tired mamma 

As she fetches coins out of a faded, embroidered, zippered purse 

In a hurry...

So the conductor can quickly move to the rest of the passengers.

Behind her, he smiles past them at the schoolboys 

Who brag about football scars and football trophies to each other.

Socks browned with mud, laces untied, spiky hair disheveled, 

Beads of sweat running down the sides of their cheeks to rest there, close to prominent, defined jawlines.

Then the smile aims at nearby, giggly schoolgirls eyeing them, each lets their eyes rest on the one they find the cutest,

While also pondering on the incredible stupidity and recklessness of teenage boys. 

He smiles at the collective crowd...

All sweaty, tired, stuck together,

All impatient to get to their destination,

All hoping for a window seat,

All longing for a cool drink and some air.

He smiles unconditionally 

Even at the pervert 

Who, in turn, smiles grotesquely at the college girl 

Neon green earphones in her ears, 

Attached to her phone that rests in her backpack,

Listening to real music,

To avoid hearing the blaring Bollywood love songs she calls garbage. 

The shifty eyed pervert takes every opportunity 

To lurch forward, rub himself on the girl, 

Every chance he gets, letting the stench of his sweat, slime and filth hit her, disgust her...

As if the stench of the hot rexine seats in the afternoon weren't nauseating enough.

Until ancient grandmother, fish basket in hand, 

Who has been observing him all along, 

Flings obscene curse words like knives his way, 

From the last seat

Shaming and humiliating him

Making him want to disappear

The way only an ancient grandma in a Goan bus can do. 

And Ganesha smiles.

©️ Rebecca Manari