The designer bra

Chapter 3

The week passed by quickly. He crossed her path many times, sometimes on the stairs of her chawl, other times in her school premises, but he never showed her any sign of recognition, making her more curious about him. She didn’t even know his name yet.

Ramaa forgot all about him the Saturday Ameeta came to visit them. She couldn’t wait to go shopping with her. She had been so preoccupied with the idea of going that she hadn’t even thought about what excuse she would give to her mother.
“Dadar? But you just came to Dombivali all the way. Why do you want to go there with Ramaa?” her mother asked.
Ramaa’s heart almost stopped. She was not very good at lying. And if her mom found out what she was really up to, she would be probably locked up in her room rest of the weekend!
“I want to show her my college maasi. She also wants to pursue commerce after tenth. Let me give her a tour of the campus,” Ameeta lied smoothly.
“Okay,” her mom replied. She was probably not fully convinced, but she didn’t try to stop them.
It was almost after noon when they reached the busy shopping street in Dadar. The road was full of hustle bustle of busy weekend shoppers. Ramaa felt lost in the crowd but Ameeta expertly guided her from one lane to another. Finally they entered through a door so narrow, Ramaa had to turn herself to one side to let herself pass through it. Inside was a dingy little passage and Ramaa wondered how on earth was such a place supposed to be selling designer bras.
But Ameeta led her through anothernarrow door at the end of the corridor and to her surprise, they were now in a big air-conditioned lingerie shop. Ameeta led her to a counter. Till now, Ramaa had noticed a very embarrassing thing. Whenever she went for bra shopping with her mom, whichever shop it may be, the person showing them the garments was always a man. And it felt really awkward to tell him the size, and take tips from him about fitting.
Here there was a nice lady who softly asked her size and then showed her an array of beautiful soft satin bras in all colours, padded and non padded, underwired and non wired, with staps and staples.
Ramaa took her time, touching and feeling each piece of fabric with her hands, and imagining them on her body, before finalizing 2. A beautiful pista coloured one with a creamy coloured lace and a baby pick embroidered underwired one.
“Any one of these,” she told Ameeta.
“We have a clearance sale. Just put 100 rs more and you can buy two in the price of one,” the lady said.
Ramaa looked at Ameeta. “Take both,” Ameeta said, smiling.
That night Ramaa couldn’t sleep. She was so excited. The photos she adored in magazines were her priced possessions now. She waited for everyone to fall asleep. Once she was sure they were, she quietly sneaked into the bathroom with the bag of her purchase hidden beneath her gown. Once inside, she carefully removed one bra at a time, taking care they didn’t get wet and tried them on.
The feeling she got was out of this world. She could feel the soft tunic against her skin and it made her tickle. The feel was so comfortable, she wanted to just sit wearing them.
“Ramaa, what are you doing since so long? Can’t even hear water flowing?”
Ramaa stood up, terrified. It was her father. She quickly gathered her stuff and hid it under her gown.
Her dad was standing there, arms crossed across his chest, looking sternly.
“Stomach upset,” she muttered and ran to sleep next to her mom. As she snuggled in her blanket, she couldn’t stop smiling.
Next day at school. Ramaa could not concentrate on anything. She was constantly conscious of what she was wearing underneath.
Another thought nibbling at the back of her mind was a technical problem. Where would she dry the bra after washing it? In their chawl, they had a common terrace where ropes were tied across two opposite edges and each room was designated a particular part of the rope. Now if she hung it on their rope, her mom would definitely find out. Now what to do?
That evening, while her mom was away for buying some groceries, Ramaa quickly washed her bra and carried it upstairs. She stood there for a while, looking at the rope on which her moms saree hung. No, there was no way she could dry it here. Impulsively, she carried the bra to another random rope and hung it there. The owner of that rope would obviously wonder whose it was, but would leave it as it was and then she could pick it up once it was dry.
Satisfied and pleased with herself, Ramaa hurried back home.

Next day Ramaa couldn’t wait for school to get over. The very thought of her beautiful satin tunic lying unclaimed on the terrace was making her restless. As soon as she reached home, she dashed up the stairs to collect her valued possession.
To her horror, the bra was nowhere to be seen!

to be continued...