It was in the second month of my gap year in India that I learned to get aggressive. It certainly didn't come naturally.
Like most happy teenagers, my three friends and I left our all-girls school full of optimism and eager to please. But from the very first day in the vivid, colourful and thrilling country of India, wandering hands were a constant problem for all of us.
Giddily piling into rickshaws, I was the first to discover that sitting in the front seat means that many drivers will look for the 'radio' between your thighs. Hands were slipped underneath our trousers while we watched a fireworks display. Holi, the festival of colour in which people throw paint at each other was a free-for-all for Indian men intent on daubing the front of our shirts with coloured powders. The list goes on.
For most British women, sexual assault - casual or otherwise - is a blessed rarity, but the problems that exist in India have been sharply brought into focus by the appalling recent case in Delhi.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/travelnews/9784991/Delhi-gang-rape-why-India-is-not-safe-for-solo-women.html
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