Our clothes were always clean.

They ordered us to take off our clothes and tied our hands up.

We will be saying, Come to my house. Look at and feel the clothes.

Design consultants choose our interiors and clothing.

Against a chorus of taunts and insults we put our clothes back on and they start assigning us to our cells.

Once we got to the police station, they stripped us of all of our clothing and stuck hard objects into our anuses.

He orders us to get dressed again. They return our money but keep the bags of valuables. We re distributed among the cells.

The storm was so fierce that we had to lay, fully dressed, fully equipped, laid out on the tent floor to stop the tent from blowing off the mountain.

In fact, we spend more time looking after our cars, our clothes and our hair than we okay, maybe not our hair, but you see where I'm going.

After much debating and discussion on the merits of choosing your own clothes, the morality related to saris and so on, Rohini smuggled her own set of kurtas (upper garments) to a discussion club so that the women could wear them.

They bring us in, barefoot and naked as usual. We get dressed and they divide us among the cells, more than 400 people in each dormitory like space, the biggest cells I ve ever experienced in prison. There are three bathrooms at the back of the cell, which is on the criminals floor.

We are already a laughing stock, people mock and chase us, so of course the police did not let us go inside the police station so we decided to protest and chanting let us in, let us in , some boys that were standing nearby threw a rock at the gate, so the police came in from behind us (..) they grabbed and beat us up severely. Look at their condition, they tore off their clothes (..) they tore off my clothes as well and beat me up badly.