Opening the door- a fictional short story.

DISCLAIMER

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this Story are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and unintentional.

Radha, now 22, looked at the door that was facing her.

It was a closed door. She was looking at the door for long minutes and contemplating whether to open it or not.

That one decision, she knew, would change her life and the life of the people on the other side of the door. Forever.

The very thought made her nervous and she started shaking within. Miserably. The door was the only thing that separated her from them. Her real self from them. Her secret from them. Opening the door today would reveal all. To everyone. And then she will not have any secrets anymore!

Though it would mean unburdening of her soul, for she had carried this secret in her heart for too long (as long as she could hold on to it) so logically she should feel lighter with the loss of her secret to the world. But no, today she was feeling heavy, very heavy, weighed down by both guilt and shame and dread for the future.

She was almost ready now. To open the door.

Today, too she had taken long to get dressed and get ready, which was not at all unusual. For she usually did take long since she was the type who loved to dress up whenever it was her birthday. Donning on an expensive dress, be it a salwar suit or a petite skirt and a fashionable blouse, or even an exquisite lehenga with a very sexy choli of course, or even a sensuous sari with an offbeat blouse which had cost the roof would be Radha's way of celebrating her birthday. Of course, she would have loads and loads of makeup on, elaborating working on her eyelashes or her lipstick or her dreamy eye shadow.

Next would be her hairstyle, which was the most difficult part. For she was never too sure whether straight hair suited her or curls and would keep on experimenting with both the styles until she could convince herself that 'this' was the best for her today, in keeping with her dress and style, either traditional or western. Then came the jewelry and though she had lots of it (given to her by her over-anxious mother who desperately wanted her to look very feminine, delicate and of course the prettiest girl in town), Radha had never been much interested in it. So deciding on the jewelry would be just a matter of a few minutes and the easiest part of her dressing up.

She was a perfectionist (read a 'fussy' person) when it came to styling herself and her best friend had often asked her to become a 'professional stylist' since she had worked so much on herself, that she had become almost a 'pro' and an expert in that.

Radha had spent hours and hours experimenting with all styles of female dressing like gowns and sleek trousers or even formal and girlish pantsuits with beautiful scarfs as accessories or varieties of Kurtis, Kaftans, leggies and baggy pants, lots of skirts-mini-skirts or pencil ones, formal or sensuous plus her favorite long flowing sexy saris with almost scandalous blouses. When it came to tops, she had tried on loads of them too- like the bow-necked ones or the vintage kinds or the backless ones or the traditional jari kinds or the full-sleeved or the sleeveless one, even the ones with the fluffy puffs.

She knew it all, had tried it all.

First on her mother's insistence and then on her own accord and liking.

Her mother had been the one who had introduced her to various styles that make a girl look more appealing and feminine. Before that, Radha had always been that 'tomboy sort of girl', forever dressed in long shirts and loose track pants, wearing a very short haircut and sports shoes, and playing basketball or football with the boys of her family in the colony. It was understandable and unavoidable. Since she was the only girl in a joint family of seven boys, naturally, she had been brought up amidst all the boys and had become 'a rough and tough' kind of a girl. But when she turned twelve, her mother, who was quick to realize the long-term impact that it would have on Radha's psyche and personality, pulled her away from the boy's team and asked her to behave 'like a proper girl'.

"What is that?" Radha had then asked, quite innocently.

Mother had been at a loss to explain for she did not know where to start from. So she did the best thing that she could. That was to introduce Radha to a variety of girls' clothes and makeup and jewelry. 'That could be the first step' she had thought, a strange worry forming a crease on her brow and in her mind.

Naturally, mother had been delighted to note that Radha had not resisted her mother's attempts, though Radha had never fully endorsed it either. For Radha liked nothing better than to wear those worn-out shoes and track pants and T-shirts and play football with her brothers.

But she had taken in her mother's advice and had started changing her look from a tomboy to a lovely lady. The metamorphosis was a slow and painful one, like all metamorphosis in nature. But it did give the desired results and now, a decade later, Radha was forever seen dressed prettily in the latest women's trends be it dress or jewelry or makeup. That she used to do it only to please her dear mother was something that only her mother knew.

For the world outside, the world on the other side of her bedroom door, knew a different story.

They were the ones who always thought that Radha was the kind of girl who wanted to outshine everyone, stand out in a crowd, and look like the prettiest lady in a mile. They attributed her sudden change of image and attitude to her growing up, her hormonal changes, and even her transformation into an adolescent.

There were even jokes or snide remarks about Radha in the family. "You take longer than a heroine to get ready". Or even "You are not going to any beauty competition, it is just a traditional pooja, that's all". Or "We are always late because of her" or "The people watching the movie are paying to watch the heroine not you" or "It is not your wedding dear remember, it is your neighbor's"

Radha had learned to take it all in her stride. Sometimes just letting it pass, sometimes sulking over it. But she knew that there was no other way to either shut their mouths or change her lifestyle.

--------------------

Today too, Radha knew that her extended family of two uncles, two aunts, grandpa and grandma, her mother, and her seven brothers (three siblings, four cousins) would be looking at the closed door from the other side the door and grumbling.

"How much longer, Radha?" one would shout in exasperation.

"I am hungry!" her brother 11 years old, would exclaim.

"I will cut your birthday cake now!" the youngest cousin, 8 years old, would amply threaten.

Radha was used to these comments and threats. She had long stopped responding or reacting to them.

She knew that they would come to an abrupt stop the moment she opened the door and stepped out. For then there would be "Ahhs!" and "Ohhhhs!" and collective gasps and whistles and those would dissolve all the taunts and grumbles that they were showering her with just minutes ago.

This was natural, for she was the only girl in her family and would always be the 'center of attraction' in her home. So, usually, Radha used to be excited and feel exuberant to open the door and reveal herself. In fully glory and glamor.

But today, she was in an unusual dread to open the door!

Though, strangely she was fully dressed and ready!

Such a thing had not happened to her ever in her life!

Once more, Radha looked at her image in the long dressing table mirror. And though she did look different, in fact very different from her normal look, Radha was satisfied. For the mirror revealed the 'real Radha', tired as it was with keeping her secrets.

Radha glanced at herself from top to bottom and kept on looking at herself in the mirror. For what she was seeing now was a new Radha, a Radha devoid of all the makeup and the jewelry and the show shine. A Radha dressed in a plain and simple cotton top and pants, minus any decorative hairstyle.

For the millionth time in the day, she wondered what would be her family's reaction to her changed avatar!

She had long tired of the excessive use of makeup and hairstyles and the dressing up, to look like a glam doll. Radha knew that deep down, she was a simple soul, and wanted to present the same to the world. But she had dreaded to be herself, to wear her real face, and to face the world.

Until now.

But, today, on her 22nd birthday, she had decided to overcome whatever fear and anxiety that she might have buried deep inside her and come out. 

Once more she trembled within herself, for she found her very image of herself shaking to the core. If she had taken such a long time to accept her reality, she wondered how long would it be before her family accepted it. Forget acceptance, would they love her as herself, without the layers of makeovers and makeup thrust upon her.

Peeling off layers and layers of makeup and makeovers was a tough thing for Radha.

Peeling off layers and layers of false images and beliefs was, however, understandably, the toughest.

But it was important to do it.

"Do what is right, not what is easy"- Radha remembered a wise thought that she had read somewhere.

Radha had taken courage from these words of wisdom and knew that it was now time to do what was right and not merely keep on doing what was easy.

So taking a deep breath, Radha, opened the door and revealed herself to the world.

As a man!

Radha, dressed in a loose Kurta Pyjama, her hair cut short in a soldier's cut, devoid of any jewelry save for a Kada on the right hand, opened the door and said simply "Presenting my real self, a man, to you on my 22nd birthday" and kept on watching the change in expressions and moods on the faces of the people that he loved the most in the world!