Panty raiders were
recently hitting the headlines in Tokyo. The police were looking
for the man or men who forcibly stole the panties from women walking
down Tokyo roads. In the latest case, a man in his twenties tore
down the panties from an eighteen year old girl and fled on a mobike.
Another woman sacred off a would be panty robber, by screaming loudly.
Picturing the scenario,
my mind travelled back to yester-years, remembering experiences,
not similar, yet having something to do with panties. Don't get
me wrong, dwelling on panty matters was not the usually done thing,
let along tearing them off ladies' bottoms. But panties did figure
as hot wagers in some challenges thrown and reckless bets placed
in youthful exuberance.
That was during our
days of boarding-school and hostel life. Much has been written on
the merits and demerits of boarding-life vis-à-vis home-life.
I myself was totally a boarding-house and hostel product, having
spent the majority of my student years away from the eagle-eye of
parental care. Despite experiencing first hand the early pathos
and trauma of home-sickness, I owe it to my boarding life the discipline
it inculcated in me, the sense of independence and I acquired to
fend for myself. And of course, one had a better opportunity to
make lasting friends and plan pranks and adventures together.
I remember the times
when at the drop of a hat some would be vvvrrrooooooomm ..mming
down the broad South Parade in Bangalore at seventy miles an hour
on mobikes, suddenly braking to screech and skid into a complete
360 degrees turn, letting fly swords of sparks in high air, set
off by the nickle-plated exhaust mufflers scraping the tarmac. Only
to win the wager, whose sparks flew the highest. There were also
the simple "I dare you" type of wagers, daring someone
to do an act often provoking enough to make him venture and justify
his ego. From as simple things as getting introduced to the new
girl in town, to stealing a kiss from the fiery local tomboy. The
more serious being, the ones like serenading with guitars in the
dead of night impersonating ghosts in the local grave yard, to even
flicking a policeman's headgear.
And then of course,
there were also the panty raids. For some strange reasons, panties
ranked very high as wager trophies. For the heck of it, somebody
would throw the challenge and somebody would pick up the gauntlet.
And at the end of it all, someone in the neighbourhood would be
minus their panties. It wasn't really as horrendous or daring an
act as that of the Japanese mobike riders on Tokyo roads. The target
invariably used to be the girl's school next door, from among the
colourful apparel that the girls left drying at their hostel windows
-- the ones one couldn't help spying on as one who ventured, was
to get this done in the dead of night, by scaling walls, getting
past chowkidars, scrambling up the rain water drain pipes, doing
the balancing monkey-act to reach the trophies perched on the window
bars, and returning, -- all this, without getting detected. I shudder
to think what could have been the consequences had anyone been found
The wager having
been won, the drill required the raided panties to be returned!
This was a cardinal rule. Most dared not return them to the window
bars, but would merely bundle them and throw across the wall, hoping
they would land below the windows. It was always assumed that the
night winds would be blamed for the mischief. The raiders were satisfied
as long as there were no complaints and the panty raids remained
a secret only to the group.
Right © Maxwell Pereira: 3725 Sec-23, Gurgaon-122002. You can
interact with the author at http://
www.maxwellperira.com and email@example.com
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