The Weekend Secret

Suhasini

The silence after Isha's departure was heavy, broken only by the relentless patter of rain. Suhas stared at Aditi, his mouth slightly agape.

"Suhasini?" he finally managed, the name sounding foreign and strange on his tongue.

Aditi winced, a flush of apology on her cheeks. "I'm sorry! It just came out! But think about it, Suhas. If people in this building get a whiff that a guy stayed over and is now hanging out at my place all day... the gossip mill would never stop. This... this just makes it simpler. It's just two girls having a sleepover because of the rain."

Suhas sank onto the couch, running a hand over his face. After a long moment, he sighed. "You're right. It was the right thing to do. It just... took me by surprise."

They spent the next few hours hoping against hope for a break in the weather. But by 3 PM, the view from the window was still a watery blur. The city was paralyzed.

Aditi turned to him, a new, decisive glint in her eye. "Okay. Plan B. We're going to this puja."

"What? Aditi, no. That's too far."

"It's next door! Look, it's good that we're the same size. I'll pick something super simple and comfortable for you to wear. I promise. And I'll wear something similar so you don't stand out. If we show up in completely different styles, it might seem odd. We have to sell this, Suhas. For both our sakes."

Suhas looked horrified. "Aditi, I can't go to a traditional puja dressed as a woman!"

"It's either that," she said gently but firmly, "or we risk a very awkward explanation to my entire building about why a man I work with is in my apartment during a flood, wearing my clothes. This way, it's just my friend, Suhasini, who got stranded. It's cleaner."

After a long, tense conversation where Aditi assured him it would be quick and they could leave at the first opportunity, Suhas finally, reluctantly, agreed. A part of him, buried deep under layers of panic, was intrigued by the sheer absurdity of the situation.

"Thank you," Aditi said, genuinely relieved. "Okay, girls take time to get ready. We should start by 4."

At 4 PM, the rain had not relented. The decision was final.

"Come on," Aditi said, leading the way to her bedroom. "The transformation begins."

Suhas took a quick shower, his nerves jangling. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he hesitated before her bedroom door before giving a soft knock.

"Come in!"

He entered to find Aditi sitting at her dressing table, already wrapped in a plush, navy blue dressing gown, her face clean and free of makeup. She saw his reflection in the mirror—nervous, hesitant, holding the towel tightly.

She stood up and walked over to him, taking his hands in hers. Her touch was calm and steady. "First, just breathe," she said softly. "Forget everything else. Right now, in this room, it's just two friends getting ready for an event. Two girls. Okay? Just feel that. There's no one else here. And this," she gestured between them, "will be our top secret. Forever."

He nodded, taking a deep breath, her calmness slowly seeping into him.

"From now until we get back to this apartment, you are Suhasini. I'll use 'she' and 'her'. It'll help us both get into character and not slip up." She pointed to the bed. "Suhasini is going to wear that pink Anarkali dress. It's flowy and comfortable. But first, put this on." She handed him a second dressing gown, this one a soft cream color.

He changed into it, the silky fabric feeling alien against his skin, and sat on the stool she indicated next to her dressing table.

What followed was a methodical, strangely intimate process. Aditi, with gentle, precise hands, began his makeup. She applied a light foundation, a touch of mascara to highlight his eyes, and a soft blush. Finally, she carefully applied a light pink lipstick.

"This will match the dress perfectly," she murmured, concentrating. She then quickly filed his nails and applied a clear, shiny coat to them. "Just a little gloss," she said with a smile. Lastly, she undid his ponytail, brushed his hair out, and re-tied it neatly, letting a few strands fall loosely to frame his face.

"There. Makeup is done for Suhasini." She smiled at his reflection. He stared back—a softer, more polished version of himself looked out from the mirror. The transformation was startling.

"Your turn," Aditi said, handing him the nail polish. "Help me with mine?"

Suhasini took the bottle, his hands steadier now, and carefully painted Aditi's nails as she held her hands out. They chatted about work, about the movie from the day before, the initial awkwardness melting away into a shared, secret mission. They were, surprisingly, enjoying dressing each other.

Once their hair and makeup were complete, Aditi went to her wardrobe. "My turn to pick a dress. Help me choose?" She held up a few options. They finally agreed on a elegant red Anarkali, similar in style and flow to the pink one Suhasini would wear.

"Perfect," Aditi said. "Now, let's get dressed. The puja is at seven."