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They would, sometimes ask my mother to sit there with them, and my mother was quite a free spirit to adjust with them. Max, and he stared at my mother’s breasts so openly and even my parents didn’t seem to mind that.
As I grew up, it was quite common in the village to hear of affaires between sahib’s wives and the local men which were really few in number.The females in the village were so fair that they even challenged the wives of sahibs for their complexion but the distinct feature of all Indian women of brahmpuri was that they had the most ample bosoms. It was not incest but it was done to preserve wealth and on some occasions even real brother and sister had been married to each other just to conserve wealth. My mother was actually the daughter of the real sister of my father.This went on from generation to generation and even the little girls of that village who just hit their puberty had breasts to be envious of. So in other sense, my father was my sort of grandfather. At home, we wore shorts while the ladies carried a cloth over their breasts too but not regularly.My father had completely Indian looks whereas my mother was a goddess of beauty combining both oriental and occidental features.She was nearly 5 feet 6 inches in height and she had the complexion of a marble statue.
But the sahibs also had their share exploiting the local wives and mothers.