Only for a few hours...Right?

Part 7: Bathing in Silence, Drowning in Reality

A Week That Sealed Everything:

Seven days had passed since Arun first started cycling into Pavithra’s blue uniform. Seven days of subtle but constant erasure. He still scanned newspapers for legal loopholes in the evenings and fiddled with the government portals on Pavithra’s old mobile, but nothing worked. Every new search result only cemented the reality: his identity was now hers. His face was permanently affixed to documents as Pavithra Subramanian.

The days blurred into each other. Arun had started doing more chores at home - cooking, folding clothes, and even carefully ironing his school uniforms. The act of folding his own bra, panties, and salwars after drying them felt humiliatingly normal now. The smell of rose detergent and Pavithra’s sandalwood talcum clung to his fingertips.

Every evening he brushed his hair and tied it into those same two perfect braids. Even when he didn’t look in the mirror, he could feel the long plaits tickle his shoulders. A gold-plated comb and a plastic bangle set now sat beside his school books.

A Girls-Only World:

In school, his days had become quieter but heavier. The classrooms always buzzed with chatter - about menstrual cycles, beauty hacks, or which boys from the boys’ school were cute. Arun sat among them like a misplaced petal, listening, nodding, and slowly blending in.

In extra class, they had to learn about female reproductive anatomy. Arun’s face burned as the teacher discussed uterine linings and breast development.

Swathi noticed. “Don’t be shy, Pavithra. We’re all the same here.”

The words cut deeper than she intended. No, they weren’t the same. But the classroom didn’t know that. Not anymore.

A Feminine Digital Life:

On the third day of the week, Arun received a new budget smartphone from the school’s government program.

"Free for girl students under biometric scholarship scheme," the principal had explained.

The phone booted up to a bright pink wallpaper with the school’s logo. Arun hesitated but logged in. He created a feminine profile photo, took a soft, tilted selfie in uniform, and entered the name: Pavithra S.

Friend requests poured in. Swathi tagged him in group chats. "Pavi darling joined finally!"

He typed replies slowly, checking each emoji twice before sending it. He didn’t know what kind of girl he was supposed to be.

Holiday Plans and the Agricultural Well:

On Saturday morning, Swathi caught him at the cycle stand.

"Come home da, it’s a girls’ day. We’ll go to the fields and bath in the well. Bring your red PE dress. No escape."

Arun tried to say no, but she looped her hand through his and dragged him to her group.

By afternoon, he found himself walking in salwar and slippers through narrow dirt paths, clutching a small cloth bag with a towel and his underthings. The sun was hot, and the wind was dry. The group of girls giggled and teased each other, playing loud Tamil songs from a Bluetooth speaker.

The agricultural well was circular, old, and fed by a hand pump nearby.

“Pavi, you go behind that tree and change. Wear your panties and blouse only. No dress needed!” Swathi shouted, already untying her salwar drawstring.

Arun hesitated, clutching his towel like a shield. Swathi and Latha were already down to their bras and panties - plain white cotton, slightly damp from sweat - and they jumped into the cool well water with squeals.

The others followed.

Arun slowly slipped off the red PE shirt, then the black leggings. His bra was pale blue, slightly tight. His panties were soft pink with tiny bows stitched near the waistband.

“Da, faster!”

He closed his eyes and stepped in.

The water was shockingly cold. It clung to his curves, soaking his underthings instantly. His soft skin glowed under the sun as water droplets ran down his waist and back.

“Your bra's so cute!” Latha said, laughing. “Very soft girl da.”

Swathi splashed him. Arun flinched, trying to cover his chest.

Suddenly, his bra strap slipped off one shoulder.

Latha screamed playfully. “Oops! Pavithra-vaa, careful, you're doing a water show!”

He scrambled to pull it back.

The girls laughed harder. “Relax, we’ve all seen worse,” Swathi said, and they surrounded him, splashing water and shampooing their hair with herbal powder.

Swathi rubbed his shoulder gently, “You’re the prettiest one here. No shame.”

Those words ached more than comforted.

Pavithra’s Growth:

Back in town, Pavithra had already earned small respect at the carpentry shop. She learned to sand wooden boards, carry panels, and make basic tool measurements.

She kept her hair short, wore loose shirts tucked into rough pants, and spoke firmly with workers.

The foreman gave her a longer saw on Friday. “You work better than my nephews.”

She smiled, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Enakku pidikkum. I like it.”

Later, she took Arun’s old wallet -now hers -and bought herself a plain checked lungi and razor blades.

The Evening Mirror:

Arun returned from Swathi’s house soaked, tired, and humiliated. Wore clothes and head towel had slipped once during the walk back, revealing his damp hair. A man on the road had stared for a long second.

At home, he dried his hair with Pavithra’s towel. He wore her nighty again - a violet cotton piece with puffed sleeves. He didn’t bother locking the door.

He sat in front of the mirror and looked.

Long hair, shampooed and tied into wet braids. Small gold chain catching the dim light. Fair cheeks, tired lips. Pink phone lying beside his ID card with Pavithra on it.

He didn’t cry. But he didn’t smile either.

He traced the neckline of the nighty with his fingers and whispered to himself:

“kadavule.”

But even he didn’t believe it.