`There she was – Kamal – sitting right across the table in her living room. Her parents were sitting on either side of her, just as my parents with me. I was wearing a white kurta-pyjama with a pair of leather T-strap chappals. And what surprised as well as confused me is that, she was wearing a three piece business suit in navy blue colour with court shoes that had almost 3 inch heels. Until now, all the girls I had met for marriage were either very shy or just normal. This one on the other hand, seemed to be a little snobbish. But she had this evil/naughty grin on her face for as long as she was there.
Then like it happens in typical Indian families, her father asked me, “Aditya, son, if you have any questions to ask, you may.” And then he told his daughter the same thing.
I smiled and waited for her to ask first but she said, “Ladies first!”
And as I was dumbfounded, she started laughing. Now her parents chuckled a little to ease out the situation as they could see that her behaviour had thrown me off balance.
So, now when I just opened my mouth to ask her something, she spoke first again. “Do you know how to cook?”
Now before I could say no, she interrupted again. “You have to learn.”
Again, I tried to ask something but she spoke first. “Do you know how to stitch and knit?”
And this time, she let me answer. “I am a textile engineer, not a tailor.”
She seemed offended by my answer. “Are you trying to say that, those wives who fix their husband’s shirt buttons, they are tailors?”
I realized that, although she had a point, the question she had asked me in the first place was not so logical. But still I said sorry.
She had that same grin and said, “You will have to learn.”
Then she shot another question at me. “Do you know how to dance?”
By now, both of our parents were getting a little anxious, wondering where she is going with all this. They even tried to interrupt by offering us some food, but she couldn’t be so easily distracted.
“Show me a dance move.” And she immediately covered it up by saying, “What if we go to some party? I would prefer that, my partner knows how to dance well.”
Our parents and I were looking straight at her, but she stared at me and said again. “Get up and dance.”
As I boldly got up to show that I have got it and I can win her, she played some music on her phone. It was a female centric item song, which made me so embarrassed. I couldn’t dance and just stood there when she again said, “You will have to learn.”
I looked at my to be mother and father in-laws, and they both looked confused as well. Just when I turned to my parents, I heard her say, “I would like to marry you.”
Suddenly, everyone got excited and completely ignored my expressions. My mother got up and just when she was keeping ‘shagun ki tokri’ on the lap of the girl, she stopped her. Then she got up, took the tokri from my mother, walked across and kept it on my lap.
Everyone was confused that what she is doing. But she kept the tokri in my lap and said, “I am ready to take 7 pheras with you Aditya, but before that, I have 7 conditions.”
Without looking at her own or my parents, she continued staring and said.
Condition No.1 – After marriage, I won’t leave my house, but you will and come stay with us.
Condition No.2 – I won’t change my surname but you will and take my last name as yours.
Condition No.3 – I don’t like outside food and I am a business woman, so I don’t cook. Therefore, you will have to cook for me every day. So, you will have to learn all cuisines.
Condition No.4 – Men can become egoistic and lazy and stubborn after marriage. So to make sure that you stay calm and docile, I want you to learn to stitch and knitting and take full interest in it. It will keep your hormones in check.
Condition No.5 – You will have to leave your job to do all this diligently and happily for the rest of your life. As I earn 10 times more than you, so, money will never be a problem.
Condition No.6 – I am a business woman and don’t expect me to be a traditional woman. You can see what I am wearing even on an occasion like this. So, I will never wear ethnic traditional clothes. The saree in this ‘shagun tokri’ you brought, you are free to wear it yourself if you like, but I won’t. But you may, as you are anyway going to be home all the time and doing all the chores which are expected from a housewife.
Condition No.7 – You will, in no circumstance, ever refuse or deny me anything. You will listen to me always and do whatever I say without questioning or arguing. And I promise to take care of not only you but your entire family financially.
We were all listening to her demands with absolute surprise, when she spoke again. “You will also sign a contract regarding the same. So, in a way, it will be a proper role reversal relationship. If you say that it’s men who go out and earn then in our relationship I will be the man and the person wearing pants, literally. And if it’s women who stay home, look after the house, the kids, the food and everything, then consider yourself a woman in this relationship. To be blunt enough, I will be the husband and you will be the wife. If you are having second thoughts, just imagine the kind of money you will have, the kind of old age your parents will enjoy because of all that. Your younger sister will get the best of higher education.”
Nobody was saying anything. The situation had become so tense. She asked again, “So dear Aditi (she had also changed my name without asking me), do you take me as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do us part? And do you promise to stand by me as my loving wife and the daughter-in-law of my parents and the mother of my children? If you do, go inside your mom’s room right now. Open her closet, take out a dupatta, cover your head and hold out your pretty hand so I can put a ring in your finger.”
I froze there only. I had never even imagined in my wildest dreams that I will find myself in such a situation. But before I could say anything or move, my little sister came with a dupatta, pinned it on my head and then held my hand and offered it to her. As she put a ring in my finger, my new mother-in-law now came forward, took off her gold bangles and put them in my wrists. My world had changed around me within an hour. From a qualified engineer to an MBA to a mere housewife in a moment. Had my fate been sealed by my own family or did I have a chance to save my identity, my dignity, my self respect?
All these thoughts were flooding my mind when my own mother came to me and said something I had could never fathom. “I had never thought I will be marrying two daughters. Or I would have raised you like one. I would have dressed you in pretty dresses, taught you all the chores and duties of a housewife, so when you go to your husband’s home one day, you wouldn’t have any problem. But God has his ways. I am so glad I have two daughters now. I will have to first get used to calling you Aditi or beti. What would you prefer? And tell me something. What would you like to wear on your wedding? Saree or lehenga? Lehenga would be better. My daughter will look so pretty. Sarees you will anyway be wearing later on and every bride deserves a pretty lehenga. How stupid of me! I completely forgot to give my daughter her engagement gift. I will just come. Wait here.”
I was still lost in comprehending what she just said, when she was already back with a red velvet box. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened as I obviously could tell that it was a jewellery box. She asked my sister to hold it and took out a really heavy gold necklace. Again, without asking my permission, she put the necklace around my neck and tightened the knot at the back.
But as much as she looks amazed, she looked confused. “Beautiful, my daughter. But something is missing.” Saying this, she took off her own bindi and put it on my forehead and she smiled.
Seeing all these, even my sister joined the fun. “But I feel so left out. What do I give you, didi?”
For the first time in my life, the girl who had always respected me, looked up to me and used to call me brother or bhaiya, I was now a didi (an elder sister) to her. The way she called me didi was no natural as if I had always been her elder sister. She then saw her opportunity and quickly started taking off my tiny diamond studs I always wore.
She then took off her own jhumkas and put them in my ears. Doing this, she ecstatically said, “Congratulations, didi!”
Moments ago, I got ready in my simple white kurta-pyjama. But now, with dupatta, necklace, the bangles, the jhumkas and the bindi, my kurta-pyjama was probably looking like a unisex salwar kameez. That’s when someone suggested that since it’s a holiday, we should go shopping and everyone got up to leave. We stepped out and while Kamal’s parents, my parents and my sister got into one car, I went for the door of another when Kamal stopped me.
I noticed that she was looking at my bike. Then she looked at me and smiled. I was scared, but she held my hand and asked me for the keys. When I reluctantly handed her the keys, she got on the bike, started it and asked me to sit behind. I was about to hop on when she again stopped me and insisted that, I sit the girly way, with both my legs on the same side. I was cursing my fate but pressed my feelings and sat behind like a lady. She taught me how to handle my dupatta as it was being blown away by the wind.
After riding for about 20 minutes, I realized that the car was nowhere to be seen and that’s when Kamal stopped the bike. As she parked the bike, she held my hand and we entered this shop. But I got a shock as I realized where we were. It was a lingerie store.
Before I could ask her what we were doing there, she said to the saleswoman. “I wanted to gift my husband some really soft and sexy lingerie and nightwear for our wedding night. Bridal red or maroon, maybe.”
I was in shock that, first she asks me to be her wife, then she takes me out, dressed like a girl, and then to add to my misery and embarrassment, tells the saleswoman of a lingerie store, that I am her husband and we are shopping lingerie for me. The saleswoman was also clearly in shock. She was smiling, almost controlling her laughter during the entire time. Kamal would not leave my hand for a second, so no escape. Being a man and being measured for a bra by a woman – Oh God, Please Kill Me. Then she quietly pushed me inside the trial room and joined me in there. Although inners were not available for trial, I noticed she had slipped one in her pocket. She took it out and asked me to try it. I was not going to do that. She knew it. So, instead of asking me to take off my kurta, she started seducing me. She took off her jacket, giving me an impression that we are going to make out. So, I started taking my clothes off, beginning with my kurta. But just as I put it on the hook, she pushed me against the wall and while kissing me hard on the lips, she put my left arm into the bra strap. The moment I realised her intention, she pulled apart and started kissing me on my nipples, biting in between the kisses. I don’t know why, but I got aroused and started slipping into a sort of trance. Soon, she was hugging me and pressing her genitals against mine.
I was about to hug her back as I was losing myself in her perfume when I heard her say “Done”.
She whispered in my ear that, we should hurry and handed me back my kurta while turning me around towards the mirror. That’s when I saw that, I was wearing the bra she had brought in with her and she must have clasped the hooks while hugging me. I tried to revolt when she just winked and open the door of the trial room. In the fear of being seen in a bra, I changed my mind and instead of trying to take it off, just put on my kurta at once. As I was clearly concerned about the bra straps being visible through my thin kurta fabric, Kamal draped my dupatta around me like a shawl and pushed me out. Anyway, we selected 7 nighties and 7 sets of bras and panties in 7 different shades – all in satin silk and adorned with lace.
Just when the girl at the counter was billing them, Kamal said it out loud enough for everyone to hear. “Excuse me, you people have such a hot collection that my husband couldn’t wait till we reach home. So, he is wearing one bra now – the pink one.
I was so embarrassed that I wished for the floor to open up and engulf me. I could hear giggles from everyone in the store.
The counter girl was smiling wide, when Kamal pulled off my dupatta without saying and tried to make it even more awkward. “Babe, would you like to show the lady which one you are wearing? Maybe she would like to see the tag that we forgot to take off.” She said.
The girl laughed hearing this and said it’s OK, since she knows the price and product code. She handed Kamal the bags which she gave to me in the store itself saying, “It’s all for you, my pretty spoilt boy wife. You are such a high maintenance. After buying such sexy lingerie, I hope you will make our first night and honeymoon worth the expense.”
Then without a warning, she kissed me in front of everyone and just as we pulled back, she saw and availed another opportunity. “Why are your lips so plain, my pretty wife?” Saying this, she took out her lipstick and gave me a pair of pink satin rich creamy lips. She asked me to pucker them for even application and just when I did, someone clicked a picture. Turns out, it was her phone that she had handed to the saleswoman for this very moment. She winked at me and made that picture her wallpaper.
Now she again held my hand and led me out of the store saying loud enough for everyone to hear, “Now let’s get my pretty bride a super heavy lehenga as pretty as herself.”
On the way to the boutique, I was fighting so hard not to fall because I couldn’t understand whether to hold the dupatta or the shopping bags. Kamal on the other hand, was having so much fun by braking for no reason. On one of the signals, she turned to ask teasingly, “You are such a terrible pillion. Don’t tell me you never sat behind any of your boyfriends.” She kept on laughing at her joke all the way to the boutique.
Soon, we were there. Now, as we entered the shop, I realized that our families were waiting there for us already. My sister came running, holding one of the lehengas that were on display. She told me to keep down the bags that I was carrying, and took me aside to a trial room. This time, before I could even react, she was the one who pushed me inside and asked me to quickly take off my kurta. I was hesitating for obvious reasons, but she was in such a hurry and so much excited that, she herself started lifting my kurta. I quickly pulled it down again, but her expression told me that, she saw.
Before I could explain, she screamed, “Are you really wearing a bra right now?” She hugged me and started kissing me on my cheeks. “Wow didi, you are so fast.”
Now, she got thinking and despite the fact that I was her brother, which she didn’t seem to care anymore, and took off her top. She then hastily made me take off my kurta and exclaimed as she saw my bra in all its glory. “Nice choice!” What I didn’t understand was she now started wearing my kurta and then stood their looking at me hiding my imaginary breasts with my hands. She then slapped my hands and started putting her top over my head.
I tried to refuse, but that’s when she said something that hit hard. “You are wearing a bra and now feeling shy of wearing a top? Come on, don’t be a pussy.”
She forcefully made me wear the top, and I could only noticed it when she stepped back. It was a crop top – In deep maroon colour. Same as the lehenga she was holding now for me to wear. Thinking that my fate has been sealed, I reluctantly wore the lehenga.
She tied the string so tight that I couldn’t help screaming, “Ouch”. And she laughed hysterically. “Save those words for your first night, didi.”
I gave her a stare which she ignored and draped the dupatta around me in a very stylish way – by keeping some of it resting at the back of my head. She then took one hand of mine and let it rest at my waist, and handed me one end of the dupatta in the other. Then she opened the door and took me out into the main section of the shop, where everyone was looking with their jaws dropped. I noticed that Kamal was trying on a sehra. Then my mother had me touch the feet of my to be mother-in-law and father-in-law. They blessed me and mother-in-law gave me another gift. It was a very small box. And from the looks of it, it seemed to be a pair of earrings inside. But when I opened it, that was the first time I realised there’s actually no going back. Because, it was a very ornate and heavy looking nose ring.
“Beti, this has been passed down to generations in our family. I wore it for my wedding and as per our custom, you will be wearing it for yours. I can’t wait to see it in that pretty nose of yours. So, once you have chosen your lehenga and chooda, lets gets you a few piercings. And yes, you have to protect it with your life. And once worn, you are not supposed to take it off till a year after the wedding.”
That day, I modelled in some 50 lehengas and almost 20 sarees, having different shades and materials, before we finally chose the ones suitable for the bride – me. And we left with one super heavy, pink coloured, pure silk lehenga choli, with zari and all kinds of stone work and embellishments, along with some 15 silk, satin and chiffon sarees. Some for ceremonies and some for daily wear.
Then while the rest of the family left for home, Kamal took me to a tailor, where I was measured for the choli and the blouses and the adjustments required in the lehenga. By the measurements noted, one could easily tell that the choli and the blouses were going to have deep cut necks and backs, and tight enough to let my breasts protrude for display. Probably the sexiest blouses and choli any girl would have ever worn.
Then matching footwear were purchased, where all eyes were on this acrogenously dressed guy walking up and down in flats and heels of different shapes and heights. On a number of occasions, I almost tripped and the salesman held my hand or my shoulder, during which he even happened to touch and feel my bra straps. I kept on avoiding eye contact, but knew everyone was looking at one and only me. Finally, after purchasing some 7-8 pairs, we left the shop. And this time, I was not allowed to take off the 2 inch high pink belly shoes with a satin bow on the toe that I tried at the last. The bra, the dupatta, the lipstick, the bangles, the bellies and the necklace, all of it was making me feel more and more feminine, which had by now started showing in not only the way I walked but my behaviour as well. I tik-toked out of the showroom arm-in-arm with my husband Kamal as my head slightly leaning on to her shoulder.
Kamal looked at my hands and asked while giving me a light kiss on my forehead, “Babe, would you like a pedicure and manicure? I would love to see shiny pink nails on your all ten.”
This time, I just smiled back, gave Kamal a light peck on lips and nodded in yes.
We went to a parlour and even before the lady could ask, Kamal said, “He is going to be my wife. So, I want you to give him the best look you have given to someone till date.”
The lady smiled back and said as she pulled me to her side. “I promise when you will leave tonight, there will no trace of manliness on him, apart from the one down there.”
Kamal smiled and took a seat in the waiting area. Then as the stylist was about to take me inside, Kamal stopped us. She was shifting some stuff between the shopping bags and finally handed her one. “When you are done, help her get ready in this.”
I was there for long time, and had almost passed out during the procedures. Five hours later, Kamal woke up to find me standing in front of him, dressed in a satin pink saree and loads of silver jewellery. My hair tied in a heavy big bun, that sported a fresh pink rose. My cheeks glowing pink, which one couldn’t say because of the makeup or the shyness. Lips creamy satin pink. A big round pink bindi on the forehead. Eyebrows with a perfect feminine arch, hues of pink and turquoise eye shadow, heavy mascara and long liner to make the eyes look bigger. Some 16 pink glass and silver bangles in each hand. Toes and hand nails sparkling pink. The bangles and the anklets making noise, even with a little moment. Ears adorned in silver jhumkas and above all, the most important addition was her family nose ring. A pearl drop which was tickling my upper lip as I tried to speak. My midriff exposed and sporting a naval piercing with a similar pearl drop tickling the abdomen.
Kamal was speechlessly looking at me. Finally, she went down on her knee and held out a ring in front of me saying the same thing she had said in the morning. This time, I replied even before she could complete her question. “I do!” Kamal got up and gave me a deep passionate kiss as everyone present there clapped in joy.
Kamal offered me her hand and asked, “Shall we go home, my darling Aditi?”
This time, I kissed him back passionately and as I pulled apart after what seemed to be eternity, I asked, “No my love! I want to marry you right now. So, let’s go straight to a temple, call our families there directly. I can’t wait to be your wife and make all the expense worth it. What say, a kiss for each penny?”