The city bus wheezed to a halt, coughing diesel fumes into Mumbai’s sticky afternoon air. Raju the conductor spat a thick stream of red paan juice onto the pavement, narrowly missing a stray dog’s mangy tail. His eyes crawled over the crowd shoving toward the doors, lingering on swaying hips and strained shirt buttons. "Chal, jaldi chadh! Gand fatne wali hai kya?" he barked, slapping the metal side panel twice.

Inside, Pooja clutched the overhead railing as the bus lurched forward. Her low-cut blouse gaped with each jolt, inviting stares from men pressed against her in the crush. She felt fingers graze the small of her back where her blouse ended, sliding under the waistband of her micro-skirt. A drunk in a stained vest pressed closer, breathing beedi smoke into her hair. "Kitna meetha badan hai randi ka," he slurred to his friend over her head. Pooja bit her lip to hide a smile.