The Secret fascination

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Growing up in a bustling joint family in India, my life was filled with noise and warmth. Our home was alive with the chatter of my mother, my aunts, and my two lively cousins. As the only son of my parents, I found myself surrounded by the feminine energy of the household. My father and uncle would often be out for work, leaving me in the company of my mother, aunts, and cousins, where I spent most of my time.

From a young age, I was fascinated by the way the women around me dressed and carried themselves. I’d watch my mother get ready in the mornings, her graceful movements as she draped her saree, the way she tied her hair, and the delicate touch of her bangles as they jingled softly. My aunts and cousins were no different, always laughing and chatting while applying makeup or choosing outfits. Their confidence and poise were mesmerizing, and I found myself increasingly curious about their world.

As I spent more time with them, my interest began to grow. I started to explore their clothes in secret. One day, when I was home alone, I decided to try on my mother’s blouse. The moment I slipped it on, a strange sensation coursed through me—an exhilarating mix of nervousness and thrill. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

Encouraged by this feeling, I ventured further into their wardrobe. I tried on frocks, chudidars, and even a few of my cousins' dresses in the bathroom, where I could lock the door and indulge my curiosity without fear of being caught. Each outfit brought with it a new rush, a fleeting escape from the identity I was expected to uphold as a boy.

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