Black briefcase

Cube of shiny fake leather
Deceptive in its very dullness
October heat
Oppressive, sultry weather
Beating down upon
All those who stand
By the bus stop.

School children with neatly oiled hair
Grumpy woman,
Bindi squeezed by frown lines
Men wearing funny bell bottoms
At least a decade behind fashion.

The bus is late
It’s not unexpected
But the briefcase still sits
Menacingly on the bus stop bench.
I imagine it carries
Files and papers
Official-looking files
And neatly stacked paper.

I stifle the scenes
That pound
At my protective mental barrier
But they manage to seep through
The fissures of conjecture .

And I can see —
Gimlets of ruby-red blood
Glistening against
Dreary gray pavement
Empty eyes turned towards the sky
Shards of water bottle
Nauseating, overwhelming odour
Of detonated death.
And piercing cries
Rending the world of the bus stop apart.

Again I see
The shiny black briefcase
Seated upon the bus stop bench
With no one sparing it A second glance.


Malvika Parthasarathy, Class XI (Arts), Sophia High School, Bangalore.