Fantasies are my greatest forte. Ever since I was young, my mind would often occupy itself with varied desires that played out wild acts of intimacy that would border on taboo. Society only offers you so much freedom to act on instincts. I was raised in a strict household where even having the thought of sex would equate to sinning of the highest level. For most of my school life, I'd lived in various convents and thus never had a boyfriend until I was in college. How I longed to have a boyfriend like the heroines in the bollywood movies, to be held and kissed and to experience love. And maybe get to bring some of my fantasies to life.
It was with the greatest amount of hesitation that my conservative parents allowed me to get into a college in Mumbai. Being from a small town in rural Punjab, there weren't many good institutions in around the area and it was after much persuasion from my aunts that I was finally allowed to go there although it was a women's college. They spent a good month and a half warning me of the "dangers" of urban society and the considerably low moral standards that prevail.
This only served to heighten my anticipation and before long, I was in Mumbai, free at last! I had no relatives to keep an eye on my activities and only had to lie to my parents about my whereabouts once a week when I'd call then on the weekend. The moment my father returned to our village after coming to help me settle down, I set out to become a whole new person and was quick to shed my village girl tag.
The first thing I did was set out to upgrade my wardrobe to Mumbai's standards. I picked up the tightest jeans and the shortest tops. The was even a tiny blue pleated skirt that caught my fancy although I never thought I'd have the guts to wear something that small, barely covering my bare thighs. I was worried my large bottom would be visible. That night in my tiny hostel room, I tried them all on, modeling them in front of the full length mirror. Although the skirt wasn't as bad as I'd expected, it was still too short for my taste.
During the first two days I'd made several friends from the classes and my hostel but all of them were women. Many of them were like me, from villages across the country and were equally determined to shed that "behenji" (country bumpkin) tag. Although most of the girls at the hostel were friendly, several of the seniors tended to bully the freshers. A popular activity across most colleges in the country, it was tradition for the juniors to obey the seniors for the first month or two and many a time it tended to get out of hand.
Within the first week of my joining the hostel, the newcomers were identified and the bullying had begun in full swing. On morning as locked my room door and headed towards the common bathrooms, I was suddenly shocked to see about ten to twelve girls, kneeling on the floor with their hands up and not a thread of clothing on their bodies. Walking between them were three of our seniors, one of them talking to the group of juniors while the others were laughing and poking jokes at their naked bodies.
Before I could turn around and leave, one of them spotted me and shouted out for me to approach them. Gripped in fear of disobeyed them and earning their wrath, I complied by walking towards the group of kneeling women, already accepting my fate. I was ordered to strip down completely and join the others. "What's your name and where are you from?" said one of them.
"Mythila...from Chisti" I muttered under my breath.Tears streaming down my cheeks, I removed all my clothes, leaving just my panties on.