Naked

How do you end up living on the street as a young women? Crazy, wearing only a large sweater, and with only one arm? A hard stare that looks straight through my eyes, and a feeling I detest of being in a position of 'power'. Showing a pair of Indian trousers bought in the nearest 'tourist' shop and hoping that she understands my wish to be invisible, to not share her shame, but rather to talk to her in a language I still don't know, and to ask her simply if she is ok? Instead she shakes the trousers and throws them onto the pavement, picking them up and repeating the action. Guiding her naked skinny bony legs into the flimsy cotton, she returns the favour by taking of her sweater, allowing her ribcage to protrude and spine to stick painfully into the cold evening air. Our brief interaction has only lasted for few minutes, and yet as is the norm for any street in Kolkata, we now have an audience of curious men. Silently begging her forgiveness of creating all of this unwanted attention, I walk away. Trying to resist the temptation to look back.