Lunch was a noisy, bustling affair. Kiran helped his mother and Priya bring steaming dal (lentil soup), sabzi (vegetable curry), chapati (ftbread), and rice to the dining table where Raj and Kiran’s father waited. When everything was in pce, they joined the men.

  The subtle unfairness baked into these customs struck Kiran. The women toiled, served, then ate st—expected, unacknowledged. And now, he could feel the friction of tradition rubbing raw against his new perspective.

  Kiran moved almost automatically, falling into patterns that seemed instinctive.

  After the meal, Priya cpped her hands together.

  "Come on, Di (sister)! Get ready. We need to go."

  Kiran smiled. "Sure, I’m ready."

  "Like this?" Priya asked, surprised. "That’s not like my Di. She always looks her gorgeous best. What say, Jiju (brother-in-w)?"

  Raj gnced up with a faint smirk. "Of course. Always stunning."

  "Come to our room," Priya said, dragging Kiran by the hand.

  "What is it?" Kiran asked once they reached inside.

  Priya opened a drawer in her dressing table. "Wear something of your choice," she said, pointing to a box filled with bangles and earrings. "And at least apply lipstick."

  Kiran stiffened. "No," he said ftly.

  "Uh! Tell me, Di—have you had a fight with Jiju? Is that why you're acting like this?"

  "What? No!"

  "Either way, I’m not going out with you like this. Either you wear them or I’m not buying any lehenga (embroidered skirt outfit)."

  "Stop it, Priya," Kiran said firmly.

  Priya folded her arms across her chest and sat on the bed. The standoff stretched for a full five minutes.

  Finally, Kiran sighed. He loved her too much—both in this life and the one he left behind.

  "Okay… let me see what you’ve got," he said teasingly.

  "Oh, Di!" Priya squealed and hugged him from behind.

  "Try this," she said, pointing to a pair of heavy jhumka (traditional Indian earrings).

  They appealed to something deep inside Kiran, but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he picked a simple pair of small earrings.

  "Here, take these bangles," Priya said, handing him silver-coated ones. Kiran caught himself admiring their delicate shimmer.

  "Stop wasting time, Di." Priya began slipping two bangles onto each of his wrists.

  "Now which shade?" she asked, pointing to a tray of lipsticks.

  Kiran chose a light pink. His fingers moved expertly as he applied the shade to his lips. In the mirror, the woman looking back at him seemed almost radiant.

  "Wow, my Di’s back!" Priya cpped.

  He smiled. The woman in the mirror did look beautiful. That, somehow, made it more confusing.

  As they returned to the hall, Priya called out, "Hey Jiju, recognise someone?"

  Raj looked at Kiran admiringly. "Yes—my heroine."

  Kiran’s face turned red with embarrassment. There was a lingering intensity in Raj’s gaze that made his skin prickle.

  "Jiju, let’s book an Uber. We have to finalize my lehenga today!" Priya reminded him.

  Soon, the trio were in a cab, weaving through the chaos of afternoon traffic toward the marketpce.

  They went to several shops and boutiques before Priya zeroed in on one. It was one of the expensive and trendier ones.

  Inside the boutique, the world turned soft and sparkling. Fabrics shimmered under warm lights, sequins caught every gnce. Priya was already lost in options, pulling out reds, pastels, and ivories.

  "What about this one?" Kiran asked, holding up a pale blue lehenga with silver embroidery.

  Priya frowned. "Di, your choices have dulled! This doesn’t look like something for an engagement!"

  Kiran chuckled, masking the slight sting. Everything he picked felt safe—like camoufge. He didn’t trust his instincts in this new body.

  As Priya dashed off to another rack, Raj sidled closer.

  "You know," he said, holding up a deep green lehenga with a low-cut blouse, "you’d look amazing in this."

  He stepped in close, lifting the blouse piece up to her shoulder. The silk brushed against Kiran’s colrbone, lingering just a second too long.

  "Raj, stop."

  Raj grinned. "What? Just saying you could turn heads. I bet Priya’s not the only one who’d look good dressed up."

  Kiran tried to back away, but the hem of his dupatta (long scarf) caught on a rack.

  Raj leaned in slightly. "You really are glowing today, you know. Feels like I’m discovering you all over again."

  His warm breath fell on Kiran's face.

  Kiran froze, then firmly stepped back and fixed him with a cold stare. "Stop it."

  Raj raised both hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Just teasing. You’ve become extra sensitive tely."

  Kiran said nothing, his pulse loud in his ears. Relief only came when Priya returned, beaming with a crimson lehenga in her hands.

  "This is it!" she decred, eyes shining. The zari (gold thread embroidery) work glittered as she spun.

  By the time the purchase was wrapped, it was too te. They hadn’t even started the jewellery shopping.

  "We'll have to do the accessories tomorrow," Priya said with a tired sigh.

  Outside, the sun had dipped low. Cab drivers were not responding to their destination request.

  "We’ll take the bus," Priya said finally. "It’s not far."

  The municipal transport bus was packed, humid, and noisy. The metal poles were slick with sweat, and the scent of diesel clung to every breath. Kiran and Priya stood wedged between two men, the bus too crowded.

  Suddenly, a hand brushed against his waist. He shifted uneasily, assuming it was accidental.

  Then—clear, intentional—a palm pressed against his bottom, fingers pressing as if testing, then moving towards his waist.

  His breath caught. A jolt of shock ripped through him. Rage, disgust, helplessness tangled in his gut.

  He jerked away and pressed against Priya’s side.

  "Di?" Priya whispered, sensing the tension.

  Raj, standing a few paces away, caught the look on Kiran’s face. His jaw clenched. Without a word, he forced his way through the crowd and pced himself squarely between Kiran and the offender. One gre—sharp, territorial—made the man shrink away.

  "What happened?" he asked Kiran.

  Kiran moved his head sideways. "Nothing," he replied.

  Kiran stared out of the window for the rest of the ride, his arms crossed tightly, breath shallow. That touch had branded something inside him—a brutal reminder of vulnerability.

  He was angry and disgusted.

  Why had he not let his anger show? Why had he not reacted strongly at the offender? Instead, he had needed protection from Raj.

  They reached home past nine.

  "I’m so tired," Priya groaned. "And we still need to get the jewellery. Di, please stay the night? We can finish that tomorrow."

  Kiran thought a while. The thought of returning to that shared bed with Raj made his stomach twist.

  "Ok," he said softly, offering Priya a tired smile.

  And in that smile was relief—for the night’s reprieve.

  He needed more time to figure out the situation he was in.

  --------That's the end of Chapter 2. Do let me know your thoughts on the chapter. Comment freely. Thankyou ------------------------------------------Copyright Notice & Discimer> ? Moonmars, 2025. All rights reserved.This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, pces, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resembnce to real people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.