Arun sat stiffly at the table, his hands clenched into fists. The scent of jasmine from his braid surrounded him, making his skin prickle. He wanted to rip it off, to throw it away—but the weight of Lakshmi’s words held him down.
She served him breakfast as if nothing was unusual. “Eat, kanna. You need to keep your strength up.”
Arun picked at his food, still feeling self-conscious. He was about to pull the flowers from his hair when Lakshmi clicked her tongue. “Leave them, dear. It looks nice. And the scent is soothing, isn’t it?”
He swallowed hard. It was. The gentle fragrance reminded him of Priya, of the way she used to tease him, tuck jasmine strands behind his ear just to see him blush.
Lakshmi smiled knowingly and casually reached for his hand. “Your nails are so rough, Arun. At least let me clean them up.” Before he could react, she had already taken out a small nail file and started shaping his nails with precise strokes.
“Amma, this isn’t necessary,” he protested, trying to pull away.
“Hush, kanna. Do you think it’s wrong to look neat? Just because you’re a man, does it mean you have to be unkempt?” she chided gently, holding his hand firmly.
He bit his lip as she worked, shaping the edges carefully. When she was done, his hands looked… softer. He flexed his fingers uneasily. It wasn’t much, but it was another step, another piece of himself slipping away.
Lakshmi smiled in satisfaction. “Now, don’t they look much better? Priya always said you had such beautiful hands. There’s no harm in taking care of them.”
Arun swallowed hard, his defenses cracking. He didn’t know how, but she was changing him, little by little, in ways he couldn’t fight.
Arun sat at the mirror, still in his nightgown, still with the jasmine flowers woven into his braid. He kept telling himself this was temporary, that it meant nothing—but his reflection was betraying him.
Lakshmi entered with a small golden bindi between her fingers. “You’ve been looking pale, kanna,” she murmured. “Just a small touch to brighten your face.”
Arun flinched. “No, Amma, that’s—”
Before he could finish, she gently pressed the bindi onto his forehead. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there. His breath hitched as he stared at himself. The braid, the flowers, the soft cotton nightgown, and now the bindi…
Lakshmi cupped his chin and smiled. “See? You look much better. More alive.”
Arun felt a lump in his throat. “Amma, this isn’t right. I… I’m not a woman.”
Lakshmi sighed, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. “And yet, you’re holding onto so much grief. What if… what if you let go, just a little? Priya always said you had such a delicate face. She used to say she wished she could dress you up just once.”
Arun’s heart clenched. Priya had joked about that before—laughed about how, with his long hair, he would look beautiful in a saree. He had always brushed it off.
Lakshmi placed a hand on his head. “Just trust me, kanna. If you let yourself embrace softness, maybe your heart will heal.”
Arun’s hands trembled as he touched the bindi lightly. The line between who he was and who he was becoming was beginning to blur.
Lakshmi simply smiled. “
One step at a time, my dear. Just for today.”
To be continued.......
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