To School

In some sleepy village in India, you will find a little girl walk to school. Chances are, she doesn't even know why she is being sent there.

Braided with ribbons
Warmed and glistening with oil
And smelling of raw coconut
Her hair rests on her shoulders
Black and stiff
As she packs to school.

Inside her bag
Two old books lie
Coiled like snakes
Resting until threatened
Some marbles roll at the bottom
For an occasional game.
Also a box
Of steel and scratches
Bent with dents but tightly shut
A pickle and a piece of oiled bread
Leftovers of dinner.

Also a pair of flip-flops
Blue, like the Bay of Bengal
New, you see
Stored until the rains hit the earth
The pebbles would only spoil them.

Also a pencil
Sharpened with the kitchen knife
To perfection once, but now blunt.

A brown face
On a small body
Blossoming into youth
Any day now.
Gleaming in the sunlight
Her eyes lined with Kohl
And her skin yellow
From the bath in turmeric water
She walks down barefoot to school
On dry mud, pelting stones
At a stray dog that shares her path.

Unaware of what lies
Ahead of her she treads
Looking at the sky at one time
Plucking a blooming flower at another
Until she joins the chaos
And drowns into the crowd
Of students today
And tomorrow of her destiny.