Layers of Us

Chapter 99: Avalum 💕 Avanum - Kalyanam❤️

Tripura had been awake since 12:30 am.

The quiet hum of the night wrapped around her like a secret.

A soft cotton towel was wrapped across her chest, leaving her shoulders bare, her legs visible from the knee down, and her hair loose, strands framing her face. She was seated on a polished manai inside the warmly lit bathroom.

Steam rose faintly from a copper vessel in the corner, carrying with it the earthy scent of sandalwood and turmeric.

This was no ordinary bath. This was Mangala Snanam — the ceremonial cleansing before her wedding, a blessing carried through water and devotion.

Her mother, Bhoomi, and Ireen stood nearby, their sarees neatly pinned, each holding tiny bowls filled with a golden paste — turmeric, sandalwood, and coconut oil.

Siya, who had been sleeping like a kitten moments ago, had toddled in rubbing her eyes. “I want to help too,” she declared, holding the tiniest silver lota in both hands.

Tripura’s mother knelt first, dipping her fingers into the warm paste and gently smoothing it along her daughter’s arms.
Her voice was low, but steady — “This is for the glow of love, kanna… and for the strength to carry it.”

Bhoomi followed, applying it in soft circles over her legs and feet, smiling with misty eyes.

Ireen leaned in from the other side, playfully smearing some on Tripura’s cheek and forehead.

Siya too dipped her tiny fingers into the paste, her face scrunched in concentration.

She patted it onto Tripura’s visible chest area in uneven blobs, then traced a little smiley face with her fingertip. “See, amma… now you’re glowing and smiling!” she announced proudly.

Tripura burst into giggles, the sound echoing through the bathroom, and pulled Siya closer so the little one’s laughter mingled with hers.

Her mother muttered looking at these two playing, "Nothing can be done with these two!" While Tripura and siya laughed harder listening to this.

The paste’s golden sheen made Tripura look almost divine under the soft light — a blend of fragrance, warmth, and sacredness.

Her mother signaled, and together they began pouring warm water from the copper vessel, washing away the paste in smooth rivulets.

Tripura closed her eyes, the rivulets running down her neck, her shoulders, her back, her knees. Her mother murmured prayers under her breath, each word a shield of love.

The scent of sandalwood deepened, the turmeric left a faint golden glow on her skin, and the water shimmered on her shoulders.

Siya stepped carefully onto the little stool beside the manai, her small hands tipping the lota with all her might.
A thin stream of warm water dribbled from her head onto her shoulder, splashing lightly across her arm.

She giggled, leaned forward, and planted a quick kiss on Tripura’s cheek.

“Ammaa,” she whispered with childlike wonder, “you’re sooo grown up… but we are giving you a bath!”

Everyone burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the gentle splashes of water.

Ireen approached, dipping the mango leaves into the fragrant water and shaking droplets over Tripura’s head. The beads of water fell like tiny blessings, rolling through her hair.