Nasaza

XXIX

𝔸𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕙

As I stood in front of the mirror, my mother fussed over my hair, tugging at it and adjusting my collar. I could feel her apprehension and concern seeping through her every move. But as a dutiful son. I stood there silently, letting her have her way. Eventually, she stepped back and surveyed me from head to toe, a frown on her face.

"Are you sure this is what you're going to wear? It doesn't seem right; you're looking too plain." My mother said, her voice filled with scepticism.

"What else am I supposed to wear? A dress? Mom, this thing is my only black suit!"

My mumma huffed in annoyance. "It's not about the colour, Aadesh. You need something more stylish, something that makes you stand out. Something that shows that you have a sense of fashion and know what looks good on you."

"I'm just tryna survive." I muttered under my breath.

My mother continued to fuss over me, going on and on about fashion and style. But I wasn't really listening anymore. I was too busy rolling my eyes and mentally preparing myself for the long night ahead of me. Just as I was thinking about how much I'd rather be home watching a movie, the doorbell rang, cutting off my mother's monologue mid-sentence.

She sighed and walked out of the room, muttering something about poor fashion choices and bland men. I followed her and sat on the sofa as she opened the door.

As Sanskriti entered the room, I couldn't help but stare incredulously at her. She was wearing...pyjamas. Like actual pyjama pants and a matching top. And not just any pyjama set, mind you, but ones that had cartoon characters on them. I blinked a few times, convinced that I was hallucinating again.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna actually wear these to the party. I have a reputation to uphold, unlike you." She said, noticing my confusion.

My mother nodded in agreement and smiled behind her. "Yes, Sanskriti has always had impeccable fashion sense. Unlike some people." She shot a pointed look in my direction.

I bristled at her statement, my cheeks flushing with annoyance and embarrassment. But I knew better than to argue with my mother when Sanskriti was around. It would only give her more ammunition for her taunts.

"Your mum asked me to judge...ahem, sorry...see if your outfit is good for the party or not." She said, sizing me up.

I groaned internally. My mother and Sanskriti tag-teaming up against me was not something I wanted to deal with today. I knew Sanskriti would never miss an opportunity to make fun of my sense of style.

"Okay, seriously dude, your pyjamas look better than this."

I was about to protest, but Sanskriti was already continuing on. "You look like a waiter at a fancy restaurant. Like, the only thing missing is a tie and a little white apron. Do you really want to look like a walking stereotype at the party?"

I crossed my arms defiantly. "It's a black suit, birthday girl. It's classy and timeless. Not everyone can pull off a suit as well as I can."

"Believe me, no-one wants to pull off a suit like you do."

I rolled my eyes at her remark. "You just don't appreciate true fashion. Some people have class, and some people..." I gestured at her cartoon-covered pyjamas.

She looked at my mom.

Why did she always take my mom's support and defeat me? It's unfair!!!

I watched as my mom nodded in agreement with Sanskriti, and her gaze landed on me. The verdict was in, and it wasn't good. I could practically see the smirk on Sanskriti's face, gloating at how easily she had won this round.