It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Mom was sitting on the couch in the living room, when I came out of my room after a post brunch power nap. I saw that she had her iPad in her hand, and was scrolling through her facebook. My mom is a perfect live portrait of an Indian woman. Even though it was a Sunday, she was properly dressed in her favourite white kurti and pink chooridaar. Her long brown-black hair was tied low in a big and loose bun. She was never into gold, so her ears were sporting heavy silver jhumkas. Her pink glass bangles were making that sweet noise, every time she scrolled on the iPad screen. No make-up at all. Just a little kajal, a very light coat of pink lipstick and a bindi on her forehead. I jumped on to the couch beside her. My feet folded underneath. “Come on, Hritik! If you can’t be neat like your sister, at least learn some living room etiquettes. Now take those dirty feet off my couch. I have just got the upholstery cleaned and I don’t want a stain already. And go cut those nails, for god’s sake.
Next time, I see your nails that long and feet so dirty, I am going to give you a pedicure and sparkling red nails. You will be going to college in your tacky floaters showing off your pretty tens.” Well, she is this fussy about things almost all the times, but this was the first time I had seen her this furious. Now, fortunately, having lived alone with her for all these years, I knew what could melt her. I grabbed her feet, put them on my lap and started giving her a massage. She closed her eyes with relief, kept the iPad aside and said, “You know how to calm mommy down, don’t you?” To be honest, I actually liked giving her a foot massage once in a while, just to show her I appreciate the hard work she has been doing to, give the best to me and my sister. My sister Shubha was just 11 minutes elder to me, but mom said I will still address her as “didi”. 11 minutes elder and way more wiser is how my mom used to describe her. But she actually was. And that was the reason she was doing her MBBS in cardiology, away from home and used to visit us only once in 6 months. Dad, being in the army, hasn’t shown his face too much either. And that leaves me, a 21-year old boy of average height and almost no mass. Since mom would have been left alone, dad decided that I will get my education via distance learning and will stay at home, so I could also look after mom. Though I admit that, it’s her who has been actually looking after me. Anyway, coming back to that unusual Sunday, I asked her while continuing the massage. “How come you were on facebook today, mom? Anything interesting you saw?” Mom pulled her legs, put her feet down and handed me the iPad. I saw a collection of pictures of different moms with their daughters in identical outfits. “Missing didi?” I asked. “Obviously honey! I mean what else? I don’t have another daughter at home. So yes! Missing your sister.” She put her legs back on my lap and continued. “In fact, she only sent the link to these pictures if you have noticed.” I resumed with the massage, with one hand while scrolling through the pictures with the other. Suddenly, mom got up and went inside her room. I asked her twice, when she made some quick trips from her room to didi’s and back. But she didn’t answer. And I got busy looking at the pictures. So much that I didn’t even notice when she came back and stood behind me.
I realized only when she put something on my head. My hands reached out for head and I jumped knowing that it was a headband. I almost pulled it off, when mom held my hand tight. “Please honey, just for a while.” I again tried to pull it off when she added. “OK, just 5 minutes!” And she pulled me closer and to the nearest mirror in the hall. There we were. Both standing in front of the full length mirror, wearing identical headbands. “Wait a second!” My heart screamed. “Identical headbands!” She was trying to recreate those pictures with me as her daughter!?!? “OK, not just identical headbands. They were pink, satin covered, headbands with a big flower on the side.” And before I knew, mom had her smartphone held out in selfie mode and she clicked, while we were cheek to cheek. I tried to grab her phone and she gave me a super angry look. So I step back and she simply opens her WhatsApp and sends the picture to my sister far away. I don’t know what was I more concerned about. Whether MBBS students get that much time or about the picture was now travelling. As my sister replied instantly. “She looks cute. You should try some more accessories and poses. I am dying to see more.” During whatever little pause she took amidst that excitement, mom noticed my fear and embarrassment. “Oh dear, don’t worry. We won’t show that picture to anyone. It will be our family’s cute little secret. Always.” She held my face in her hands and added. “But only if you just give me some more time.” I tried to step back, but she hugged me tight and wasn’t letting me go. “Look, tomorrow is Mother’s Day. And your sister wanted us to do something special. If she was here, I wouldn’t even have asked you. Now that she is not here, don’t you owe just a day to your mom and her little wish, especially when she is missing her daughter so much?” I was still in her embrace and she was saying it all in my ear. Almost like a lullaby, or like a story she would tell me, while tucking me in, when I was a little kid. Her whispering lullaby coated request, did something to me for a moment. So even when she let go, I didn’t run away or revolt. Finally, she just grabbed my arm and took me inside her room. The moment she switched on the lights, I was about to run away, but she side-hugged me and again whispered. “Just this one occasion.” She released me and I started walking with her slowly towards the bed. There lied her wish in the form of my sister’s satin black skirt, with white polka dots and what she called a cami top. It was white and was also in satin. It was like I was still hypnotized by her words and I knew what to do. I started taking off my t-shirt, when she stopped me and took me inside the bathroom. “Take a bath first, dear. Let’s do it properly?” I looked at her and she pulled the curtain in front of me. I stripped and stepped into the bathtub behind. The water was scented as I could smell lavender. I almost dozed off when mom shook me. “That’s will be enough, honey. Just wrap that towel and come out.” I got up and that’s when I realized I had lost all my body hair, whatever little there was, except the ones on my head. I wanted to back out, but just shrugged thinking, how bad it could get, and wrapped the pink towel mom had left me, and came out of the bathroom. Mom kissed me on my forehead before she took me to the vanity and made me sit down in front of the mirror. “Thank you so much honey for doing this.” She saw my fear of getting make-up done and tried to calm me down. “Don’t worry, we will just sort your hair a bit.
We will get more occasions for the make-up.” I almost got up when mom just laughed. “I was joking, sweetheart.” She blows dried my hair, which were short but still a little long for a boy. Combed some 100 times and kept on trimming a little here and a little there, before announcing my hair done. I couldn’t see since mom had turned the chair around, but she seemed happy. All I could feel was that some of the hair was now coming in front of my eyes which I was not used to. Then mom took some kajal and said looking at me, “Just a little, dear. Even guys wear kajal these days.” I surrendered and she applied that too. Though I still couldn’t see myself, I again guessed by mom’s expression that it’s not OK. Not OK for me. Then came the turn of clothes. I was given the cami top to wear. And only when I wore it I realized it was too short and ended well above my naval. Next came the panties. “Wait! Panties?” My heart jumped and so did I. “No mom. No panties please. Can’t I wear my own underwear? It’s anyway not going to be visible.” Mom’s reply came instant and sharp. “Exactly, it won’t even be visible.” She said while holding out the plain but pink satin panties she had taken out from my sister’s drawer. She came closer and whispered again in my ear. “Please dear, for your mother.” I gave in. After the panties, came on the skirt. Thankfully, it was long and flared. As I was too embarrassed to show my hairless legs. Mom tied a bracelet on my left wrist and the right one got lots of silver bangles. A silver necklace now also adorned my neck. But what was really bothering me was the exposed waist. And that too was enhanced by a heavy waist chain, that had lots of little bells hanging, which made several sounds whenever I turned or moved. Matching anklets came next.
Then mom asked me to pull the bottom most drawer of my sister’s wardrobe. There was a brand new box in there. Mom gestured me to take it out. I picked it, kept it on the bed and raised the lid. There was a pair of brand new black Mary Janes. What surprised me was, that they were in my size. So clearly they were not my sister’s or mom’s. As their shoe size was smaller than me. I looked at mom and she knew that I can tell that it was all pre-planned and nothing impromptu. But, while she must have thought that I would now certainly run away, I just took out the shoes and wore them. While I was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing the shoes, mom carefully placed a black satin-covered polka dot headband on my head. It also had a bow on top of it. Mom now helped me up, kissed me on the forehead and stopped. She went to the vanity and came back with a strip of bindis. She placed on my forehead and kissed again. But then she produced a lipstick. I was about to cry now, when mom lifted my face from my chin and had that request expression on her face. I just stood there. A deep pink satin lipstick was applied on my lips. Mom went towards the vanity to keep it back, when I was about to step out of the room. She called from behind. “Just purse your lips a little sweetie. It will get even.”
As I turned and did as she told, a flash came. She clicked a picture of me doing that. Now she gave me a little black purse with a long chain strap. I hung it on my right shoulder and went out into the living room. And the door closed behind. The moment my butt landed on the couch I heard mom saying. “Smooth-en your skirt under you, dear.” And I did. It was over 45 mins now since mom closed the room door. I was trying to distract myself reading magazine. Checking out my phone. Watching TV. That’s when I heard the doorbell. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. So I ran inside and knocked the door of mom’s room. Before I could tell her to come out, came her reply. “I am not done yet, honey. You will have to answer the door. Don’t worry! You look great!” I somehow gathered the courage and dragged my feet to the door. The bell hand rung thrice by now. I took a deep breath and opened the door. What I saw made my jaw drop. It was my sister Shubha, standing right there wearing exactly the same outfit as I was. She pulled my cheeks, and gave me a very tight hug. “Oh my darling sister Hritika, you look way more beautiful than we thought you would. What say, mom?” I pulled myself back and turned around, only to get another surprise. Mom was wearing the same outfit too. Shubha pulled me into a group hug and then mom took out her phone for a picture again. It’s been years and I have never dressed up since that evening. But every year, on Mother’s Day, Shubha still sends me a postcard with that same picture and a message “Happy Sister’s Day, Hritik’a!”