Grandmother, Who, Me?

"Grandmother, Who, Me?"

Chapter 12: The Thali and the Beggar

Lakshmi’s POV (Satish)

Twenty days.

Twenty full days of living inside this body.

I stood in the kitchen that morning, stirring the morning sambar, the soft chink-chink of my anklets the only sound besides the bubbling of the pot. The cotton saree clung to my skin wherever sweat had gathered, under my heavy breasts, along the small of my back, between my thighs. The locked cage between my legs pressed flat and constant, a quiet, humiliating reminder every time I shifted my weight.

I had thought it would end in a few days. That was the promise. “Just a few days, Attai. Just so I can feel it.” But every time the deadline approached, Shreya would look at me with those soft, hopeful eyes and say, “A few more days, please? The pregnancy feels so much better with you here.”

And every time, I folded.

Because she was still my wife. Because I still loved her. Because seeing her smile when I rubbed her swollen feet or when I held her against my soft chest made the frustration and humiliation somehow… bearable.

Just stay indoors, I told myself for the hundredth time. Don’t go out. Don’t meet anyone new. Survive these remaining days and then Jessica will reverse everything.

I was still repeating that thought when Shreya walked into the kitchen, already dressed in a simple silk saree, her pregnancy glow soft and beautiful.

“Attai,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, “we’re going to the temple today.”

I froze, the ladle still in my hand.

“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended in my mature voice. “Shreya, please. I’ve done everything indoors. Don’t ask me to go out.”

She came closer and took the ladle from my hand, setting it down. Her fingers brushed my soft wrist.

“It’s for the baby,” she said quietly. “A small blessing. Just the temple near the main road. No one will know us there. Please, Attai. I need this.”

There was no real choice. There never was when she looked at me like that.

An hour later I stood in front of the mirror again, fully dressed. A deeper maroon cotton saree this time. Fresh jasmine flowers woven into the braid of my long hair, the sweet scent already mixing with the light sweat on my neck. The blouse was a little tighter across my heavy breasts. The pallu was carefully draped. Anklets, small gold earrings, the simple chain. Everything in place.

I looked like a proper Tamil mother-in-law ready for temple.

The ride was quiet. My hands stayed folded tightly in my lap. Every bump in the road made my breasts shift and the cage press uncomfortably.

At the temple, the air was thick with incense, camphor, and the low murmur of devotees. Shreya took my hand and led me inside. We stood before the main deity while the priest performed a small blessing for the baby. Then Shreya stepped forward and asked the priest to bless her own thali, the sacred mangalsutra she already wore.

When that was done, she turned to me. Her eyes were shining with something I couldn’t quite read.

“It’s about time you had one too, Attai,” she said softly.

I stared at her, confused. “What…?”

She didn’t explain. She simply took my hand again and led me back toward the entrance.

Outside, near the stone steps, a thin, dark-skinned man in worn clothes sat begging. His hair was grey at the temples. He looked up as we approached.

Shreya stopped directly in front of him and pointed.

“He’s your husband,” she said quietly, “and my father-in-law.”

The words hit me like cold water.

“Aaa… what?” My mature voice cracked. “Shreya, what are you saying?”

She turned to face me fully, both hands now holding mine. Her expression was serious, almost pleading.

“For the past ten days I’ve been thinking about it,” she said. “I want a complete family. Just once. A real mother-in-law *and* a father-in-law. Someone who can stay with us, make this house feel whole. I’ve already spoken to Jessica. She can transform him quickly. He needs the money. And you… you would have a husband. A proper married life for the role.”

She squeezed my hands tighter.

“Please, Attai. For me. For the baby. Just until the delivery. I know it’s a lot. I know it’s more than I asked before. But I need this. Please.”

My mind went completely blank.

For my wife… I have to become a wife?

WTF.

I stood there on the temple steps, the smell of jasmine and incense in my hair, the heavy weight of my breasts pulling downward, the locked cage pressing between my legs, and the thin beggar watching us with tired, curious eyes.

Everything I thought I still controlled was slipping away.