Only for a few hours...Right?

Part 9: Diwali, Designs, and a Dilemma by the Pond

Three Months Later: A Different Life:

It had been three full months since Arun had first stepped into Pavithra’s kurti and salwar. What began as a short-term solution had now evolved into a daily rhythm so deeply etched that even his own reflection no longer startled him. The girl in the mirror - long braided hair, soft golden skin, bindi neatly placed, a gold stud twinkling on one ear - was no longer unfamiliar. The soft swish of pleated salwars between his thighs, the subtle weight of breasts held snug by the cotton bra he now wore comfortably, and the smell of Pond’s talcum powder that clung to his neck - these had become his new normal.

Arjun had become a constant presence outside school. He’d wait near the juice stall or by the temple steps, speaking to Arun in that calm, deep voice. It started with casual greetings, small jokes about teachers, and gossip about mutual acquaintances. He never pushed, never teased, but his eyes always lingered a little longer, his compliments always phrased just sweetly enough. It made Arun’s stomach flutter in a way that was both exciting and terrifying.

Meanwhile, Pavithra had settled fully into her job at the carpentry shop. She was now known for her strength, precision, and dedication. The work had made her arms stronger, her gait more confident. She wore loose jeans and tucked-in shirts now, her hair cropped short to beat the heat. Her coworkers even addressed her as "Arun anna" respectfully. At home, she no longer flinched being called “Arun.”

A Trending Design and Gold Anklets;

Arun, during a design assignment for class, had sketched a rangoli-inspired embroidery motif that unexpectedly went viral after a teacher shared it with a cousin in the textile board. The design was praised for its elegance and femininity. Soon, it was picked up by a local boutique. Orders poured in. The teacher presented him with a small certificate of appreciation. Arun, flushed with happiness and confusion, accepted it in front of the class wearing his violet kurti and matching hair clips.

A few days later, Pavithra returned home on a brand-new orange KTM bike. Arun stood at the doorway, stunned.

“I thought it’d make you happy,” Pavithra grinned, kicking the stand down. “Also… I got you something.”

From her small sling bag, she pulled out a delicate red box. Inside were a pair of pure gold anklets tiny ghungroos at the ends jingled lightly.

“No sliver, just these,” Pavithra teased with a wink.

Arun blushed hard. The gold felt cold and smooth against his fingers. He wore them that evening with hesitation, but the gentle ching ching followed him everywhere in the house. The sound haunted him.

Diwali Shopping: A Sibling Bond!

A week before Diwali, Pavithra called out, “Arun, get ready. Let’s go shopping, ma.”

Arun stepped out in a green churidar with small floral designs, a pale yellow overcoat tied neatly at the back, and a matching green ribbon in his braid. His small gold chain gleamed on his neck and a thin line of kajal lined his wide eyes.

Pavithra, wearing jeans and a grey shirt, offered him the helmet. “I’ll drive, little sister,” she said, teasing.

On the ride, Arun held on to Pavithra’s back tightly, the wind rushing through his dupatta-less kurti. His soft fingers brushed Pavithra’s waist once, and Pavithra chuckled. “Tight ah hold panra, ma.”

At the textile shop in town, the shopkeeper gave them a smile. “For your sister ah, sir?”

Pavithra nodded. “Yes, Diwali special.”

Arun was ushered to the women’s section. Swathi had insisted he get a fancy half saree. Arun picked a violet and pink silk half saree with a shimmering gold border. The blouse stitched was tight, hugging his chest and making him self-conscious. They also picked matching bangles, jhumkas, and a velvet bindi packet.

In the innerwear section, Pavithra elbowed him. “Go, pick a new bra and panty set too.”

Arun flushed crimson. He picked a pale pink set with lace borders, hoping no one noticed.

They ended the trip with a cone of ice cream each. “You’re really becoming Pavithra,” Pavithra whispered.

“I don’t want to,” Arun mumbled, licking his ice cream shyly.

Diwali Preparations: Dressed Like a Bride:

On Diwali morning, Arun bathed in turmeric water, scrubbed and soft. Pavithra helped him tie the half saree tightly, adjusting the pleats at the waist and pinning the pallu.

“You’re prettier than me, you know,” Pavithra said as she pinned jasmine flowers in his thick braid.

Arun adorned himself with Amma’s heavy gold mango mala, thick gold bangles that clinked with each step, and golden jhumkas that swayed with every movement. Mehendi still stained his palms, and he had even drawn a tiny design on his feet to match the anklets.

When he stepped out, Pavithra simply stood in stunned silence. “Kadavule… You look like you walked out of a movie.”

Temple Visit and Arjun’s Gaze:

Swathi and friends arrived, equally decked up. Together, they headed to the temple, Arun walking carefully in the heavy half saree, anklets chiming softly.

Inside, the scent of incense filled the air as they stood in line. Arun’s palms were pressed in prayer, gold bangles on his wrist glinting in the morning light.

When they stepped out, Arjun stood waiting outside in a white veshti and light blue shirt. His eyes locked onto Arun.

“You look... like a dream,” he whispered.

Arun couldn’t meet his gaze.

Crackers and Neighbourhood Laughter:

That evening, Arun lit crackers with the neighbor girl, Sangeetha. They wore half sarees and joked like sisters. Sangeetha even helped adjust his pallu when it kept slipping.

“You’re more beautiful than all of us,” Sangeetha laughed.

Arun smiled weakly.

The Pondside Proposal:

Late that night, Arjun messaged: “Come to the pond?”

Wearing a soft cotton skirt and top, anklets jingling, Arun cycled there slowly.

Arjun stood under a flowering tree, holding a diya.

“You’ve become my favorite part of every day,” he said.

He took Arun’s hand. “Pavithra… I know we’re young, but I like you. Very much.”

He knelt. “You don’t have to say yes. Just know I’ll wait.”

Then he kissed Arun’s cheek softly. Arun froze. The diya flickered in the wind. He had no words - just the sound of his own anklets and the confused flutter in his heart.