Niranjan agreed to take the role of "Nivedita" as a bridesmaid for his sister's wedding, experiences a month-long transformation guided by his mother and sister.
One evening, as the preparations for Aradhana's wedding continued, Meera called Nivedita over with a small box in her hands. Her eyes were soft, filled with pride and love.
"Nivedita," she said, extending the box, "this is for you. A small gift for everything you've done for your sister and for me. You've taken on this role with such heart."
Nivedita hesitated as he took the box, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty washing over him. Gifts like these-gifts given by a mother to her daughter-were not meant for sons. Slowly, he lifted the lid, and his breath caught. Inside were two pairs of golden bangles, intricate and delicate, glimmering softly in the evening light.
The realization that these were a mother's gift to a daughter struck him deeply. He glanced at his mother, unsure of how to feel, and she noticed his hesitation. Gently, she reached for his hand, her voice tender.
"Nivedita, these bangles are not just jewelry. They are my gift to you as my daughter. Not my son," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "In our family, it's tradition for a mother to gift bangles to her daughter, as a symbol of love and blessings. I want you to have them, to honor all that you've done for us."
Touched by her words, Nivedita let Meera slip the bangles onto his wrists. As they settled, the soft, delicate chime they made felt surreal, adding to the magic of the moment. The weight on his wrists seemed to embody his mother's acceptance, a symbol of the unique bond they'd shared over these past weeks.
Just as he was beginning to process his emotions, Meera spoke up again. "You know, Nivedita, I've always dreamed of seeing both my daughters dressed as brides. Once, I tried my bridal saree on Aradhana, and it brought me so much joy. But now, I want to see you in it too, my second daughter."
Nivedita felt his heart skip a beat. To wear his mother's bridal saree, with the family's heirloom jewelry-it felt almost too real, as though he would be stepping into a deeper part of this role. Yet, as he looked at Meera's hopeful expression, he couldn't deny her wish. Slowly, he nodded, allowing himself to be swept into this special moment.
As Meera brought out her bridal saree, she looked at Nivedita with a softness in her eyes that only deepened the sentiment of the moment. The saree, in red with delicate gold embroidery, was more than fabric-it was a part of her own story, woven with cherished memories.
Meera held it up, her gaze lingering on it before she turned to Nivedita. "This saree, Nivedita, was given to me by your grandmother on my wedding day. I remember how I was both excited and nervous to wear it, but when I saw myself in it, I felt like I was stepping into my own future, ready for everything ahead."
She draped the saree over Nivedita's shoulders, the cool silk against his skin making him feel both grounded and awed. Each pleat she adjusted carried a part of her own journey. As she tucked it into his waist, she said softly, "Your father... he adored seeing me in this saree. He would always say that it was my color, that I looked like a queen. It was his favorite." Her voice faltered with a warm nostalgia, her hands brushing the fabric with tenderness as if the saree held pieces of his presence.
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