My Transformation To My Mother

transformation

As the days turned into weeks, Kavi immersed himself in the daunting task of transforming into his mother, Kavita. Under Neelam's guidance, he began the arduous process of adopting her mannerisms, speech patterns, and behaviors.

---

Neelam and Kavi stood in the living room, the sunlight streaming through the curtains. The space had been cleared to create an impromptu practice area. Neelam watched Kavi closely, assessing his posture and movements.

"Kavi, the first thing we need to work on is your walk," Neelam said, her voice gentle but firm. "Your mother had a distinctive, graceful walk. She moved with purpose, but there was always a softness to her steps."

Kavi nodded, feeling a mix of determination and apprehension. "Okay, Aunt Neelam. How do I start?"

Neelam demonstrated, walking slowly across the room. "Watch closely. Your mother always kept her back straight, shoulders relaxed, and took measured steps. Notice how her feet land softly, one in front of the other, with a slight sway in her hips."

Kavi observed her intently, trying to memorize every detail. Then, he attempted to mimic her walk, feeling awkward and self-conscious.

"No, Kavi," Neelam corrected gently. "Your steps are too heavy, and your shoulders are too stiff. Relax and let your body flow naturally."

They spent hours practicing, Neelam correcting him with patience and encouragement.

But still his step are faster and hard.
Then she went to wardrobe and searched for a butt plug.
He told him to relax. And inserted a five inches long plug.
Then she told him to walk.
Due to pain from the pulg his steps become slow and soft.Gradually, Kavi began to find a rhythm, his steps becoming more fluid and graceful.

"Better, Kavi. Much better," Neelam praised. "Now, let's work on your posture. Stand tall, but not rigid. Imagine there's a string pulling you up from the top of your head, keeping your spine straight."

Kavi adjusted his posture, feeling a strange mixture of vulnerability and strength. He repeated the walk several more times until Neelam nodded in approval.

"Good. Now we move on to talking like your mother," Neelam said, leading Kavi to the mirror. "Kavita's voice was calm and soothing. She spoke with warmth and kindness, even when she was firm."

Kavi tried to recall his mother's voice, the way she would speak to him with a gentle yet unwavering tone. "Like this?" he asked, his voice still rough around the edges.

Neelam smiled encouragingly. "Close, but softer. Let your words flow like a gentle stream. Practice by reading her favorite book out loud."

For the next few days, Kavi read aloud, Neelam guiding him on modulation, pitch, and intonation. He repeated phrases, imitated conversations, and worked tirelessly to capture the essence of his mother's voice.

"You're getting there, Kavi," Neelam said one evening after a particularly good practice session. "But remember, it's not just about the voice or the walk. It's about her spirit, her kindness, and her strength."

Kavi nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility. He spent time observing old family videos, absorbing Kavita's mannerisms, the way she interacted with others, her expressions of love and care. He practiced her gestures, the way she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the way she smiled with her eyes.

As Kavi continued to practice, he began to understand more about his mother, seeing her not just as a parent but as a person with her own strengths and vulnerabilities. He gained a newfound respect for her resilience and compassion.