by M.L. Krishnan Annie Spratt Girls who sat at the back of buses had names like Harini, Rose or Sindhuja. They sat cross legged—their feet protruding from the rexine-flaked upholstery, humming with purpose. They mushed their bodies into spherical brinjals, thickets of children, ductile bands of ribbon fish, housewives with concentric pit stains under their blouses. Sometimes they sat on laps. Sometimes they lowered their pants, pulled their baggy kurtas like marquees over occ