The sweat from a woman’s bosom. The grime off a beggar’s palm. The lint of an executive’s pocket. A money-lender’s paan-coloured saliva. The sticky sweetness of the schoolboy’s toffee. The ink of the cashier’s pen. The snot of the rag-picking urchin. The forgotten blood on an assassin’s hands. The gunpowder from a policeman’s finger. The turmeric stain from a housewife’s kitchen. The lipstick mark of the bar-girl’s affection. The whiff of a starlet’s perfume. The tape from the drawer of the careless. The fold from the hands of the tardy.
What lies quietly in the corner of your wallet? And what’s waiting for it outside?