Arun stood stiffly as Meena excitedly unfolded a bright blue saree. “This was one of Priya Akka’s favorites! I always loved how graceful she looked in it,” she chirped, draping it over her arm.
Lakshmi nodded approvingly. “Yes, this color always suited her. And now, Arun’s complexion is quite similar to hers.”
Arun flinched at the comparison. “I… I don’t think this is necessary,” he mumbled.
Raji Chithi laughed, waving her hand. “Oh, don’t be so shy, kanna! It’s not like we’re asking you to go outside like this. Just wear it for fun, see how it feels.”
Meena grinned mischievously. “Yes! And I’ll be your beauty expert for the day.”
Before he could protest, she grabbed his wrist and sat him down. “First, let’s fix your hair properly. A braid is nice, but let’s try something different!”
Arun swallowed hard as she unbraided his long locks, her fingers working skillfully as she brushed and twisted them into a more elegant half-up, half-down style. He wanted to fight back, but the moment he did, Raji Chithi playfully scolded him.
“Arun, you’re acting like a scared little girl! Where’s the strong man we know?”
Lakshmi chuckled. “He’s still here, Chithi. He just doesn’t realize how much beauty he’s hiding.”
Arun’s face burned, but before he could think, Meena took a fresh string of jasmine and gently pinned it into his styled hair. “There! Now you look even more like Priya Akka!”
His heart clenched. He looked at his reflection and barely recognized himself. The long, styled hair, the flowers, the delicate features softened by grief and their constant teasing—he looked…
No. He shook his head. He wasn’t like Priya. He wasn’t a woman.
But when he opened his mouth to argue, Lakshmi handed him the blouse.
“Put this on first, kanna. Then we’ll drape the saree properly.”
Arun stared at it in horror. “Amma, no—”
Raji Chithi clicked her tongue. “Ayyoo, why are you acting so shy? No one’s forcing you to wear bangles and anklets—yet!”
Meena giggled. “Ohh, that’s an idea! Imagine how cute he’d look with jingling anklets, Chithi.”
Arun felt his stomach tighten. He wanted to run, but Lakshmi’s voice was calm and firm.
“Kanna, you’ve come this far. What’s one more step?”
His hands trembled as he took the blouse. The moment he put it on, Meena squealed with excitement. “Aha! It fits perfectly! Now, time for the saree.”
Lakshmi gently guided him up. “Stand straight, kanna. This is just for us. Just for fun.”
Arun’s heart pounded as the soft fabric of the saree wrapped around him, Meena adjusting the pleats and pallu with a professional touch.
Lakshmi stepped back, smiling warmly. “Ah, kanna… look at yourself.”
Arun turned to the mirror—and froze.
The person staring back at him wasn’t Arun. It was someone else. Someone draped in a saree, hair neatly styled with jasmine, a small bindi still resting on their forehead. The blouse fit snugly, making his body look different, unfamiliar.
Meena clapped excitedly. “Maami! You look just like a shy new bride.”
Raji Chithi laughed. “We should put a little kohl around his eyes to complete the look.”
Arun swallowed hard, his body frozen between shame and something he couldn’t name.
Lakshmi stepped forward and gently touched his cheek. “You see, kanna? It’s not so bad.”
Arun couldn’t breathe. His world was shifting, and he didn’t know if he could stop it anymore.
Arun had stopped protesting as much. The teasing, the laughter, the playful touches—they had worn him down. He kept telling himself it was harmless, that it didn’t mean anything.
That evening, the family gathered in the living room, and the topic of conversation had completely shifted.
“You know, Arun,” Meena started playfully, “if you were a girl, you’d definitely have gotten married before Priya Akka!”
Arun choked on his tea. “W-What?”
Raji Chithi laughed. “Oh, absolutely! With such soft features and long, thick hair, you would’ve had so many marriage proposals.”
Lakshmi smiled knowingly. “And such beautiful hands, too. Just imagine, if you had grown up as a girl, we would have found you the most wonderful husband by now.”
Arun’s face turned crimson. “Amma, please!”
Meena giggled. “Why are you blushing, Maami? Are you thinking about what kind of husband you’d like?”
The women burst into laughter, and Arun felt his skin burn. But what unsettled him more was the way they spoke—as if this wasn’t just a joke. As if they were slowly, carefully making him question himself.
Meena leaned forward, mischief in her eyes. “If we had to find you a husband, I think he should be tall, with a thick mustache, and very protective! Someone who would adore his delicate, shy wife.”
Arun shot up. “Enough!”
The room fell silent. His breath was ragged, hands trembling. He looked at Lakshmi, who was watching him carefully.
Then, she simply smiled. “Alright, kanna. We won’t tease you anymore.”
But the look in her eyes told him—this wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
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