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Plaster and pieces of wood rained down as she raised her arms above her head. Had anyone asked him, he’d gladly have admitted that when he first hired her it was mostly for her looks. Eighteen, fresh, pretty, vivacious, with high round teenage breasts and hips to kill for, her black pony tail bobbed and waved as she went over the car.The old coconut tree outside had finally given up the ghost and had just come through the roof. Mule, started the petrol pump and then checked under the hood before beginning to wash and dry all the windows of the Ambassador. When she reached to get a spot in the middle of the windshield, one leg came off the ground and Ganesh had a nice view of the crotch of her cut offs and the white panties she was wearing under them.

My daughter Sunidhi is eighteen-years-old and perfect.

“Well, you would say that, she’s your daughter; ‘Papa’s little girl’,” I hear you say. Friends and acquaintances of mine will often use the exaggerated expression ‘my daughter from hell’ when recounting yet another misdemeanour committed by their teen daughter.

Well, all I can say is that in that context, I must have ‘a daughter from heaven’.

Sunidhi has always been such a lovely girl, both inside and out; charming, cheeky yet not precocious, helpful, caring, loving and she has a smile for everybody.

Now she was being called in front of the village wise men for punishment. She could run faster than any of the boys, though when she did that now her breasts sometimes hurt. Manisha woke up with a start as the thunder crashed and lightning flared through her window.

Mira stared at the entrance of the cave where the wise men sat each day to settle disputes, answer questions, tell people when to plant and all of the other things the wise men decided for her people. They had grown a lot in the last year or two and stuck out from her slim chest in what she thought was an ugly and misshapen way. It was so loud she was standing beside her bed before she realized she had gotten up. She felt her nipples tighten with a small tingle as they pooched out.

She’d never been in that dark place, and had never wanted to. The soft cotton tunic she wore shifted and slid over her long brown nipples as she ducked. Those nipples caused her more trouble than anything else about her body. She’d been seized by the urge to rub and squeeze them a lot lately, and when she did it caused the most lovely sensations to run through her body. The first thing she thought of was that she was much too old to be afraid of lightning and thunder. She crossed her arms over her breasts in a vain attempt to warm them.They were always in her consciousness because they always felt so … The wind was howling outside and rain was smashing against her window. Something thumped on the roof over her bed and suddenly the world was collapsing around her.If I have one complaint, it would be that she talks endlessly. I grew up on an animal farm in central Uttar Pradesh, which meant that I didn’t get to see many families very often.She has done ever since the day she uttered her first words. Then she went to her father’s door and knocked on it lightly. So it wasn’t odd that my sister Sumitra and I were pretty close. If they were hard, or dirty, or whatever, that just plain didn’t matter. Papa had been raised in some kind of religious cult back in Karnataka, and had come back when it got raided by the Income Tax Dept. He didn’t much like to talk about that part of his life.My favourite expression when she spouts endless verbiage is, “You’ve got verbal diarrhoea again Sunidhi”; she’ll pause, smile at me, giggle and then carry on, unabated. Lakshmi was making dinner when her papa came home from work. He banged through the front door, answered her “Hi Papa” with a growl and disappeared into his bedroom. She was two years younger than me, but that didn’t mean a thing on the farm. He met Mummy there and they got married after they bought the farm. Her rebellious nature had finally gotten her in real trouble.Lakshmi shook her eighteen-year-old head as she stirred the curry beaker. Parvati Bose had died of cancer two years ago, and Lakshmi and her father had carried on as best they could since then. You know how people who have been married a long time start to look alike? If you didn’t know them, you might think they were brother and sister. She’d taken a necklace out of old Shiv Mandir while the pandit was out gathering fruit and she’d gotten caught with it.