Chapter 1

My name is Myra Malai. I am 19 years old and I live in the city. I had decided to take a break from the city life. We have an old acquaintance name Neelima. I call her Neelima Aunty and to spend my vacation, I have come to Nilima aunt’s house in our village, away from the city. There was a hush-hush that the village holds many secrets. It was very strange that Neelima aunt’s village which was named as “Paankpada” had mostly women and girls as its inhabitants. Men mostly stay away due to work or for other reasons.

I had the impression that life in the village would be less complex and simple but this was all about to change. First things first, we need to go shopping.

The soft, dark brown silk of the sari flowed around me as I draped it, the pleats falling just so. The matching blouse, a delicate thing with its thin straps, felt almost like a second skin. I adored how the low cut accentuated my cleavage and the swell of breasts; a hint of skin that always made me feel a little thrill. Turning in front of the mirror, I loved the way my hip-length hair cascaded down my back, framing the curve of my neck. A playful thought danced in my head, a secret little rebellion against convention – the sheer audacity of going without a bra or panty added a whisper of excitement to the day. It felt liberating, a secret held just for myself.

I was a little apprehensive that my mother would object to such a bold and revealing get up but this was short lived. Then, seeing my mother, Deepa, ready, a warm smile spread across my face. She looked radiant in her similar attire. Her sari, a shade lighter perhaps, complemented her waist-length hair, which she had left loose and flowing, just like mine. Her blouse, equally daring, showcased her graceful figure. There was a shared understanding between us, a silent acknowledgment of the bold choice we had made. It felt like a special outing, a mother-daughter adventure where we could embrace our femininity and revel in our choices. A sense of anticipation bubbled within me – the bustling mall, the vibrant colours, and the feeling of being together, two women ready to embrace the day on our own terms. “Mother, you look amazingly beautiful,” I could not help but say.

My mother gave me a knowing smile and said, “We are women; we are supposed to look beautiful and alluring my dear” She had noticed I was not wearing a bra.

Stepping into the mall, the air buzzed with energy and the chatter of shoppers. It wasn’t long before I noticed the subtle shifts in people’s gazes as we walked by. A fleeting glance here, a lingering look there – it was undeniable that we were drawing attention. My mother, especially, seemed to have a magnetic presence. At the age of 42, she carried herself with such grace and a youthful glow that truly belied her age. Her skin had a natural radiance, and her eyes sparkled with a playful light. It was clear that many heads turned as she passed, a silent acknowledgment of her striking beauty.

I couldn’t help but notice, with a mixture of admiration and perhaps a touch of knowing amusement, the gentle sway of her figure with each step. The way her sari draped and moved highlighted her curves, and it was quite apparent that, like me, she had chosen to forgo a bra, just like me. The natural throbbing of our well-defined breasts with each step was quite captivating, and I could see how it contributed to the attention we were receiving. There was a certain confidence in our stride, an unspoken comfort in our own skin that was truly inspiring. It felt like we were sharing a secret, a quiet understanding of the choices we had made and the effect they were having on the world around us. There was a sense of feminine power in that shared experience, a feeling of being seen and appreciated for who we were.

Next morning as I prepared myself for my journey to the village, my mother, Deepa came to me she started to comb my hair and, in the end, she gathered all my hair at the base of nape and held it in a clutch of her hand just like a ponytail and said, “I am sending my girl to the village but I know you will be back as a woman...”