The Final Touch

Deb stood frozen, unable to meet his reflection in the ornate mirror. The weight of the crimson benarasi saree on his shoulders felt heavier than the gold jewelry Swagata was fastening around his neck. The intricate design of the mangalsutra glinted against his smooth, freshly waxed skin.

"Stop slouching, Debosree," Swagata snapped, her tone sharp as she tugged at the pleats of his saree, perfecting every fold. "A bride must hold her head high. You’re about to become my brother’s wife. Act like it."

He swallowed hard, his lips trembling under the weight of the deep maroon lipstick Swagata had meticulously applied moments earlier. The kajal she had smudged around his eyes made them look larger, more vulnerable—a fact she seemed to delight in as her fingers lingered on his chin, tilting his face up.

“Look at yourself,” she commanded, stepping aside so he could see the full transformation.

In the mirror, he no longer saw Deb, the man who once commanded his own life. Instead, Debosree stared back, a vision of bridal perfection, her shy, kohl-lined eyes betraying the storm within.

“You look beautiful,” Swagata whispered, her tone softening as she leaned in close, her fingers brushing against the heavy necklace that rested against his chest. “But beauty isn’t enough, Debosree. Tonight, you must prove your devotion to my brother. He deserves nothing less than an obedient wife.”

Tears threatened to spill, but he nodded, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Yes, Swagata Didi.”

“Good,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “Now smile. It’s your wedding day.”

The Bridal Mirror

Riya stood before the grand mirror, her reflection unrecognizable. The scarlet lehenga swirled around her slim frame, embroidered with delicate golden vines that caught the flickering light of the diya. Her lips, painted a deep crimson, quivered as she adjusted the heavy dupatta over her perfectly styled hair.

Behind her, Aarav’s voice broke the silence, low and teasing. "You look... breathtaking."

Riya’s heart raced, not from shyness, but from the weight of the transformation. Once Ravi, now Riya, she had been guided—no, coaxed—into this role by Aarav, who had insisted she’d make the most beautiful bride. His hands came to rest lightly on her shoulders, his touch firm yet reverent.

"Why do you keep looking away?" he murmured, leaning in closer, his breath warm against her exposed neck.

"I—this doesn’t feel real," she stammered, her voice softer, higher than it once was, betraying the woman she had become.

Aarav’s lips curved into a smile as he gently turned her to face him. "It’s real, Riya. And tonight, you’re mine."

His fingers traced the line of her jaw, down her neck, to the delicate curve of her waist, pulling her into him. In his arms, the lingering doubts dissolved, replaced by the undeniable pull of desire. As their lips met, Riya felt the weight of her transformation shift, no longer a burden but a promise of who she was meant to be.

Namitha Marimuthu's Bridal Makeup

 

Adiriti Chowdhury

  I am a 35-year-old transwoman staying in Kolkata and a professional model. I am also a graduate in Business Administration and fashion design. I became the first transgender model to walk the ramp without any surgery or hormone therapy. When people from my community would mostly shy away from this profession, I made sure to set an example for all. I have done various ramp shows as well as professional shoots, and have little experience in the acting industry as well.

During my childhood, I couldn't understand why everyone was bullying me. They used to call me by names, and my school life was nothing less than a nightmare for me. My effeminate behaviour became a curse for me. I even became suicidal, but I never thought of giving up my studies.

I always knew I had to change my body to get the right one. So, in August 2016, I talked to my mother, and she was like "If your dad allows it, she is fine with it". However, my father is a very conservative person. It was very hard to make him understand the whole process. What I have observed over these years is that every parent is ready to accept their child, but they refuse to do it just because they fear society. No child will leave their homes once this world starts accepting them with open arms the way they are.

Nonetheless, in 2018, I got my sex reassignment surgery done. But it is not as easy as it seems to be. It is a long-term process that includes various visits to psychologists, psychiatrists, endocrinologists, hormone treatment for at least a year, facial hair removal treatment, vaginoplasty, etc. After going through the whole thing, now I love myself more. I am much more confident than before. I am now living every second of my life like a free bird. It feels like I was kept in a cage until now and someone has suddenly opened the door.

Anjali Ameer

 

Anjali Ameer has been very much vocal about her struggles in life. She recently shared a video of her transformation from a boy to a woman. The actress wrote, " My transformation life proud to be a #transgender #Kozhikode" Talking about her childhood, the actress had earlier told us that she did not reveal her identity to anyone at home. "Instead I ran away from those who knew me to a different place. I was feminine and I have overheard that they wanted to take me to an endocrinologist. They used to say my femininity is a disorder and I need hormone treatment. There was a lot of stigmas, bullying and humiliation from people around. Personally, I never approached anyone for counselling because I was so sure that I am a girl and all I wanted was a female body. So, I eloped when I was in 10. If it was today, I wouldn't have done that," she said.