Part 7
Chapter 18: The Saree and the Side-Saddle
The intensity of the day’s work and training began to lift as the sun dipped low, painting the Konkan sky in brilliant shades of orange and magenta. The 2nd day of training was nearly complete. Inside Rajas's room, Rajjo—dressed in a simple, soft daily-wear cotton saree and that heavy, glued, realistic chest—stood before the full-length mirror, assessing the exhaustion reflected back at her. She hadn't wanted to wear the saree, but she had agreed for her mother's sake. Late that afternoon, just after one of her office calls had ended, her mother had insisted she drape it and keep it on, saying she needed to start getting used to wearing it for longer periods if it was ever going to feel natural. Her small diamond nose stud was still slightly sore, and her silver anklets gave a soft *chink* with every hesitant step she took.
"Snack time!" Ria’s voice chirped from the doorway. She was already dressed to go out, vibrating with mischievous energy. "Aai said we can go to the market circle for pav bhaji and ice cream!"
Ira stepped in behind her, looking effortlessly sharp in modern jeans and a short kurti. She eyed Rajjo’s flawless saree drape with professional satisfaction. "Ready, Rajjo Rani?"
The plan required careful logistics. Ria had her own older scooty, which she preferred to ride solo. Ira had her newer, sleeker model. Since the families didn’t want Rajjo driving and drawing attention to ‘her’ height and frame, she was to be Ira’s pillion rider.
As they walked to the front gate, the neighborhood was bustling with people watering plants and chatting. A few neighbors stared at ‘Rajasi’—the tall, mysterious visitor staying with the families. Rajjo, just being as careful as always, had covered her face tightly, except for her eyes, with one of "her" stole before heading out of home. She focused intensely on her feet, matching Ira’s easy gait, desperately hoping the heavy makeup, the bindi, the glass bangles, and the stole were a complete disguise.
Ira hopped onto her scooty, kicking it to life. She looked over her shoulder, patting the slightly wider back section of the seat. "Come on, jump on."
Rajjo looked at the small space, then at her own voluminous, restrictive saree, and felt a rush of heat to her face. She knew how she *should* sit, but the awkwardness was paralyzing.
"Aga Tai," Ria giggled, starting her own engine nearby. "Don't just stand there staring at the seat! Do it like a proper lady. Both legs on one side!"
Blushing fiercely under the layer of stole, Rajjo realized there was no escape. This was part of the training.
Moving delicately, she stood parallel to the scooty’s left side. She gathered the heavy front pleats of her saree, lifting them slightly to allow for movement, her silver anklets giving a loud, nervous jingle. With excruciating self-consciousness, she eased her hips onto the edge of the seat, crossing her left ankle over her right, tucking both legs together on the left side of the vehicle. The entire position felt unstable and terrifyingly exposed.
"There! Perfection!" Ira praised, though her wicked smile widened as she noticed Rajjo’s white-knuckled grip on the small grab handle behind her. Ira deliberately waited a beat, forcing Rajjo to maintain the pose while neighbors watched. "Ready to go?"
Without waiting for an answer, Ira revved the engine and pulled out onto the narrow asphalt lane.
The ride was a exercise in sheer physical and mental mortification. The side-saddle position required balance that Rajjo didn't possess. Every turn felt like she was about to slide off into the red Konkan soil. Her mandatory green bangles clinked rapidly as she struggled to keep her grip.
"Hold onto me, you idiot!" Ira hissed, deliberately taking a sharp left turn. "Not that stupid handle! Lean in! A proper girl trusts her partner!"
Blushing harder, Rajjo was forced to shift. She released her grip on the back handle and awkwardly wrapped her right arm around Ira’s slim waist. The movement compressed her heavy, realistic silicone forms directly against Ira's back. The sensation was undeniable.
From the scooty alongside them, Ria was keeping pace, watching the side-saddle drama with open amusement. She pulled up close. "Hey Rajjo Tai! Are you sitting comfortably? We don't want you tumbling off like a clumsy auntie! Remember to keep your knees together, sanskari!"
"Ria, shut up!" Rajjo snapped, her newly softened voice barely covering her annoyance.
"Just saying," Ria teased, pulling ahead. "The pav bhaji stall is right there. Try not to trip over your own feet when you try to stand up from that angle!"
As they pulled into the bustling market area, the noise of the crowds and the smells of street food were overwhelming. Ira parked the scooty, turning back to help. She looked at her 'girlfriend' with a mixture of professional instruction and hidden affection.
"Okay, Rajjo Rani," Ira murmured, offering her hand, her bangles clinking against Rajjo’s as they connected. "Now, stand up slowly. Don't rush it. Let the town see how gracefully you dismount."
Rajjo accepted the hand, her face still burning behind soft layer of stole. She slowly slid off the seat, her silver anklets giving a final, soft *chink* as her feet met the pavement. The training continued, and out here, in the cool evening air, Rajjo felt utterly exposed, entirely dependent on the two girls who were finding her public transformation thoroughly delightful.
Chapter 19: The Feminine Bliss
By the time the trio returned home from their snack outing, the adrenaline of being side-saddle in public had faded, leaving Rajjo utterly exhausted. The silver anklets seemed to chime with a heavier note, and the constraint of the tight blouse and saree felt suffocating.
Inside her room, under the strict surveillance of Kamal Aai, Rajjo changed into her cotton nightgown. Later that night, dressed in a soft nightgown, she lay curled up on the bed with a quiet smile lingering on her lips. Her thoughts drifted back to the evening—the laughter Ira and she had shared while wandering through the market, the secret teasing of Ira, the warmth of sitting behind her partner on the bike, and the little moments that had made her heart flutter. A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she replayed each memory. Absentmindedly, her fingers twirled a strand of her wig, feeling their length as she smiled to herself. In the privacy of her room, she found herself secretly cherishing this side of her, embracing her femininity with a quiet happiness she had never expected to feel.
Chapter 20: The Pandit’s Unwitting Blessing
The next morning, the 3rd day of training, the Trio set off for the compulsory temple visit. Reaching the shrine, Rajjo stopped at the gates, taking a deep breath through the floral stole tightly wrapped over her face.
"Why is Aai doing this to me," Rajjo murmured, her eyes darting nervously around the courtyard. "Why isn't she listening to me. People may recognise me if I remove the cover and will make fun very badly. I'm not saying no to pallu on head but still she's insisting to remove the face cover in the main shrine."
"Excellent," Ira approved, stepping forward. "Let me help."
With gentle, practiced movements, Ira unwrapped the floral stole, revealing Rajjo's flawlessly made-up face, the bindi perfectly centered, and the delicate diamond nose stud catching the light. She picked up the stole again, expertly draping it high over the crown of the long wig as "pallu", bowing Rajjo’s head in a submissive, *sanskari* angle.
Taking a deep, terrifying breath, Rajjo stepped into the temple courtyard, exposed. The silver anklets chimed with a frantic tempo. A few women stopped, whispering as they saw the beautiful, somewhat known but new face, but none suspected the transformation.
As they neared the inner sanctum to receive the holy water, the head Pandit stopped the line, looking directly at Rajjo.
"You are the guest from city, right?" the Pandit asked, his voice softening with uncharacteristic warmth. "A true daughter of Maharashtra. Look at this reverence! Modesty in dress, and respect for the tradition."
Before the girls could even react, the Pandit dipped a flower into the *teertham* (holy water) and sprinkled it heavily over Rajjo's bowed head. "May the Devi bless you, child. Within this holy *Adhik Maas*, may you be blessed with the most magnificent, powerful, and lovable groom who will cherish your purity forever!"
A microscopic beat of stunned silence followed. And then, it broke.
Beside her, Ria exploded. She clutched Ira's shoulder, bending double with silent, chaotic laughter, tears streaming down her face. Ira’s eyes widened with wicked amusement, her face flushing as she fought a massive smile.
"Lovable groom!" Ria wheezed, her voice muffled as she buried her face in Ira's back. "A magnificent groom, Rajjo Tai! Pandit ji can already see the wedding bells!"
Rajjo stood perfectly still, face burning a deep crimson beneath the heavy foundation.
"Yes panditji, she has come here for her vrat so that her marriage gets fixed as early as possible. Our guest Tai will be staying with us till the end of Adhik maas. She will be coming everyday to the temple for Devi Aai's darshan." Saying this, Ria again exploded with laughter along with Ira. Rajjo gripped her *pallu*, the green bangles clinking violently with her trembling hands, utterly mortified as the unwitting Pandit nodded approvingly at her "flustered shyness," unaware he had just blessed the computer engineer with his own secret boyfriend.
Chapter 21: The Month of a Thousand Veils
And so, the month of rigorous training unfolded, a surreal fusion of domestic servitude, public exploration, and corporate warfare.
During the days, Rajjo Tai mastered the physical realities of her new identity. Her 'female register' voice became effortless. Her gait side-saddle on Ira's scooty became graceful, her silver anklets providing a rhythmic backtrack. Every morning was a different challenge set by Ira & Ria: one day she was a modern town girl in a figure-hugging Punjabi dress; the next, a sophisticated traditional daughter in a rich Irkal saree, which required agonizing lessons in pleating.
At 10:00 AM sharp, the *pallu* was pinned at the waist, the bangles clinked, and the software engineer logged in, running complex code while balancing a full, heavy chest against her desk, the silver anklets softly chiming against the hard concrete floor with every logical breakthrough.
In the late evenings, after the parents had retreated, the Trio’s secret world would open up. Tucked away in Ria's room, they would dismantle the heavy accessories, trying on different jewelry, hairstyles, and outfits Ira was testing.
And within that secret world, the hidden relationship bloomed.
One rainy evening, while Ria was downstairs preparing dinner, Rajasi (dressed in a simple cotton nightgown, with the wig still on but without the outer accessories) was resting on the bed. Ira walked in, carrying a fresh tray of jasmine flowers. She stopped, looking at the stunning, elegant woman on the bed—the fierce intelligence of her boyfriend now contained within this beautiful, submissive grace.
She walked over, sitting beside "her". "The Pandit ji’s blessing is strong," Ira murmured, her professional mask slipping to reveal a deep, fierce affection. "Everyone sees the sanskari, delicate Rajasi. But I..."
She leaned in, her cool fingers sliding under the long synthetic wig to brush the hairless skin of Rajjo's neck.
"I see the bride I’ve already chosen."
She leaned forward, pressing her lips softly against her, tasting the faint remnants of lipstick. It was a fleeting kiss, a silent, powerful claim before the noise of the household returned. Rajjo froze, blinking up at Ira, the diamond nose stud gleaming, her face burning with a pure, unfiltered blush.
The month passed in a swirl of colorful silk, heavy makeup, public pretense, and hidden intimacy. The corporate IT engineer from Pune had vanished, replaced entirely by ‘Rajasi’, the graceful city guest with a heart full of secrets.
And now, the 2nd of July had arrived. The final day of the prep month was over.
The *Adhik Maas* was officially starting tomorrow.
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