Pawning Desire

“That colour is not attractive enough,”Sigh, she thought, she’d have to wear red.She hated red“Wear something a little see-through, you know …”Laughter burst outShe chose the red chiffon saree.and absently draped it around herself It clung invitingly to her slender form. “Aah! Much better. Now come here.”She returned to sit at the edge of the bedpostwhere the older, more experienced ladies were gatheredThey huddled in. “Don’t you have stone earrings?”She nodded mutely pointing to her top drawer. Someone got the solitaire pair, and expertly replaced her silver drops “Shyamali untie her hair;men like women with their hair left open.” The pin was offDeft fingers snaked the back of her headinadvertently caressing the top of her nape She closed her eyes, shiveringWhen she opened them again, resignation had replaced the fear lurking there. There was no way out for herShe sat around allowing hands to toy with her; touch her without permission The decorations continued up until the last minuteHe would be there soon, and he was; precisely at seven as the middle man had saidEveryone left her side to welcome him With a rare moment to herself she wondered, He was her first …, would he be the last? A tap on the shoulder told her it was time.The hands on her body were back,pulling her to her feet,pushing her towards the enemyWith a weakness in her knee, and a trembling tea-tray in her handshe braced herself for display