And he saw me in Saree

Rohan was the only child of his working parents, after returning home from school at 1:30 pm he remained all alone in his house till his parents were back from their respective jobs, that was a period of his life where he lived in his dream world where he fantasised about being a beautiful girl having a handsome boyfriend, just near his house lived his classmate Anup who seldom visited him in afternoon after school hours, both used to like each others company and enjoyed gossiping about their other classmates, though rohan was quite aware about his sexuality and he loved cross dressing, even he had a stock of various makeup articles likes lispstick kajal etc.
One fine day after returning back from school he saw his mom’s saree which he used to love, it was cotton Saree in Bengali print he was just about to unfold it when he heard the door bell rang he ran and peeped through the door lenses and saw the gas cylinder delivery guy was standing totally tired holding the cylinder on his shoulder, Rohan being compassionate opened the door and received the delivery and making the due payments, Rohan was responsible even though he was just in his 9th grade, he was so fascinated and eager to drap the Saree that he forgot locking the door and went inside in a hurry, he with expertise and dexterity drapped the Saree perfect and was so happy to see his image in the dressing mirror of his mom, just in front of the mirror was the door of that room he saw Anup standing at the door, Rohan got almost paralysed with multiple thoughts of been caught and what damn explaination he would give to Anup.
Anup started teasing him being mean nasty and creepy at the same time. Rohan bursted out in tears and pushed Anup out of his house, it was last time when Anup had visited him.
After that he could see Anup and his gang of friends whispering and laughing at him when Rohan used to encounter them in school or in his colony.
Though Rohan continued his passion of cross dressing though in a closet, because after all it was his choice, his life and he had all the right to make, shape, mould and blossom it in is own way.

Posted by Anand Rege

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