Author's Note: Not much sexual in this chapter, but reading it will help you better understand future chapters. Enjoy!
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Abha lived a simple life in a small isolated village in Uttar Pradesh, India. She worked for her father tanning leather as an apprentice. This was one of the few menial jobs she was allowed to have as a Dalit. Although Indian law did not sanction the caste system, and much of the caste distinctions were vanishing in the cities, such traditional discrimination was still very much alive in the rural parts of India. There were traditionally four castes ranking in hierarchy with Brahmin at the top and Shudras at the bottom. Below the Shudras were the Dalit or "untouchables" as they were often pejoratively called. They had been eliminated from the caste system entirely centuries ago, making them the original "outcastes." Abha was a Dalit.
Most Dalit accepted their lot in life, believing it toe a part of the divine order of the universe. Abha did not. She hated being a Dalit with every fiber of her being. She was born with relatively light skin, a trait characteristic of the higher castes, but it was her family bloodline that sentenced her to life as a Dalit. She tried hard not to act like a Dalit. It was common to hear Dalit referred to as "unclean." Although basic hygiene was severely lacking among the Dalit, the "unclean" label referred to spiritual impurity. Abha made sure she could not be accused of neglecting her physical appearance. She was fortunate enough to live near one of the few uncontaminated water wells, which she used to bathe. She also had managed to scrounge up a few razors. She liked to keep her legs and pussy smooth. If a passerby went by physical appearance alone, she would never be seen as a Dalit.
Abha had recently turned 18. Her family was frantically trying to find a suitable husband for her, but so far they had no luck finding one. One day, a man visited their home. Abha's father went outside to talk to him. Abha's stomach churned with nervousness. Deep down she hoped that this man was not a suitor. After a few minutes, Abha watched the man leave. Her father returned carrying some papers.
"Father, who was that?" Abha queried.
"An admissions officer from the university. They have a few openings reserved specifically for Dalit. He gave me an application for one of those spots. The application is intended for you. I do not know how he knew you lived here, but I do not care. I forbid you to take part in this."
Abha had recognized the admissions officer. She had caught him watching her bathing from a distance about a week ago. She was glad to know the sight of her unclothed body could open doors for her, but was dismayed by her father's decree. She noticed that her father had placed the application in a storage basket rather than destroy it. This gave her a glimmer of hope, but not very much. She knew better than to argue with her father. Doing so would surely bring painful punishment. She would have to think of some other way to convince him.
That night, after Abha's parents had gone to sleep, Abha quietly retrieved the application from the basket. She lit a small candle and began to read the application in the dim light. There was a short aptitude test included, but Abha found it to be very easy. She was very intelligent after all. After spending two tedious hours filling out the application, she fell asleep with finished application in hand. She managed to blow out the candle just before collapsing into a deep sleep.
She was awoken by her father shaking her harshly with his foot.
