Chapter 18

 

Using my new purchases

 

I adjusted my saree to fully cover my chest and started walking back towards Linking Road which seemed to have become more crowded than it was a few minutes earlier. Maneuvering between fast moving bodies, I reached the road and hailed an autorickshaw.

 

“Where to, Madam?” the driver asked.

 

“I am looking to buy some Salwaar Khameezes, would you know where I can find a good collection?” I asked.

 

“Madam, the best place would be Elco Arcade.” He said.

 

“Take me there.” I told him.

 

Within no time, we reached Elco Arcade. The crowd here seemed to be even more. Ordinarily, I would have been very nervous about being dressed as a woman in such a big crowd, but buoyed by my success in “She”, I felt very confident.

 

As I got out of the autorickshaw, my petticoat and saree slipped up my ankle a little and exposed my shin. I was thankful to have done my legs in preparation for this visit.

 

Making my way through the many Salwaar Khameezes hung out on innumerable wire mannequins in the passage, I made my way into one of the few air-conditioned stores there. The number of outfits displayed there were fewer but were more elegant and expensive in appearance.

 

I was grateful for the air-conditioning and as I stepped into the store, someone inside said, “Welcome Madam.”

 

Knowing the habit of women in general, I simply said, “Thank you” and looked at Salwaar Khameez ensembles around me. Each of them was exquisitely chosen. I liked a few and asked to see them.

 

The salesgirl was only too glad to oblige. She took out some five or six of the sets and placed them on the glass topped shelf. I looked each of them.

 

I liked a couple of them and asked if there was a trial-room where I could try them out. She said, “ Yes, but someone is using it right now. If you can wait for a couple of minutes.”

 

The wait was not too long. I heard the click on the door and from inside emerged an exquisitely good looking lady. She was tall and seemed to be in her mid-fifties. Her hair was dyed black but her face did not obviously reveal her age. Only the slightest of hint of jowls gave a clue to her real age. Obviously frequent facial massages had helped.

 

As she walked out, our eyes met and she greeted me.

 

I responded with a “hello” and smiled at her. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.” she said as an apology.

 

“It wasn’t too long.” I assured her.

 

“That’s a beautiful saree.” She said to me. I thanked her.

 

Her face seemed strangely familiar. I knew I had seen her someplace but could not quite place her exactly.

 

A sales assistant from the store hung the three hangers on a hook on the door inside the enclosed space which went for a “trial-room”.

 

I stepped in and closed the door. The bolt on the door was a bit of a challenge. The door needed to be pulled in hard before the bolt could be locked. Being a man, I did that with some difficulty but perhaps not as much as a woman would possibly feel.

 

I hung up my purse and the bag of lingerie on one of the hooks. Now I faced a real challenge. Being a man, I was unfamiliar with the tricks that women used to maneuver in small rooms and still successfully try out clothes.

 

Once again, I unpinned my saree pallu from my blouse. Tucking in the saree on my petticoat, I unhooked my blouse and took it off and hung it on the wall hook. Selecting one of the chosen ensembles, I removed the khameez off the hook and slipped it over my head.

 

Carefully so as to not dislodge my wig or my jewellery, I pulled down the garment and pressed it in place over my saree which was now completely below my waist.

 

Examining myself in the mirror, I liked what I saw. Obviously the tailor had taken great pains to ensure that the design that resulted from the fabric presented the khameez in the best possible way. I decided to buy that set.

 

Pulling off the khameez over my head, I selected the next ensemble. This was one was stitched slightly differently. It was slightly tighter than the previous one. But the striped pattern on the outfit accentuated my non-existent hips in a very subtle way. Perhaps because I was wearing the khameez on top of my saree and petticoat my hips were a little larger than my real size. But the outfit contributed significantly to that and made them look even larger. I liked this outfit as well and decided to buy it too.

 

Two outfits and some lingerie was more than what I had bought in the entire previous year so I decided to skip the third one. I now picked up my blouse that I had earlier hung out on the hook. My eyes fell on the plastic bag from “She” Boutique that was hung on a hook next to the blouse.

 

I remembered the feel of the new bra in the trial-room in “She” and was just dying to wear the new bra. Reaching behind my back, I unhooked that bra that I was wearing. Removing the breast forms from the cups, I hung the bra on the hook. From inside the “She” bag, I selected one of the two white bras I had just purchased.

 

Placing the breast forms inside the cups, I slipped the bra up my arms and hooked it on my back. The forms needed slight adjustment inside the cups. I reached for the shoulder straps and adjusted them so that the bra felt comfortable. I reached for my blouse and slipped it up my arms, taking care to not snag the sleeve on my bangles.

 

As I adjusted the lower hem of the blouse on my abdomen, I could not help noticing that the bra made my “breasts” appear very pointed. As a man, I like that in women. And as a man, I liked it in the woman I had become.

 

I quickly hooked up my blouse and removed the pallu of my saree that I had tucked into the waist band of my petticoat. I decided that I was going to tease the world a little. I adjusted the pallu of the saree on my right breast so that the edge was positioned right on the nipple. And with a bra that had pointed cups, it looked rather “tit”illating!

 

After putting the bra which I had just taken off into the box from which the new bra was taken, I picked up my purse, the bag from “She” Boutique and the two dresses which I had chosen. Unlocking the door was a bit of a challenge because it was so tight. The other lady who had previously used the trial-room was still there.

 

She was explaining to the store owner that he had to do something about the bolt there. Suddenly she turned to me and said, “Did you too find it difficult to unbolt the door?”

 

Surprised, I replied, “yes.. it was tight.”

 

“See” she said as she turned back to the store owner. “It is a little tight.”

 

“I don’t understand how that is possible. When I use it, it does not seem tight.” He pleaded.

 

“You don’t get it do you?” She said. “For you, there must be some technique of pulling the door in a particular way and the bolt then yields. For us, who are not familiar with the way in which the door is to be pulled and especially because we are ladies and with much less strength, it is quite tough.. and since the space inside is so little, it is unnerving to imagine the prospect of being locked in such narrow surroundings for a long period!”

 

Turning to me, she said, “I don’t know why he cannot understand.. I guess it is part of being male!” I joined her laughter.

 

I was loving every moment of this. Here I was a genetic male, dressed as a woman, speaking with a genetic female as a woman and laughing at males in general!

 

“I have seen you somewhere.” I said to the lady who was talking to me.

 

“Maybe. I am a little well known that way. I am Shobha Khilachand.” She said and held her hand out.

 

“Ah!” I said. “No wonder you looked familiar!”

 

I had seen pictures of Shobha Khilachand in many magazines. As the founder-editor of India’s foremost Film Gossip magazine, her efforts at being the best, spawned off an entire industry of gossip reporting. And although there were so many imitators, the original was still my personal favorite.

 

“What do you do nowadays? Do you still edit any magazines?” I asked her.

 

“I freelance – a column here and write up there. I am more or less a master or if you wish, mistress of my own time.” She replied.

 

“You might find something very interesting to write about if you contact my brother in Mangalore.” I told her. “Right now he is out of station on some private work. But next time you come to Mangalore, do call him up and tell him I asked you. I am due to return to Mangalore tomorrow morning and I will tell him that you might call up.”

 

“Why do you think that he may be interesting to write about?” she was curious.

 

“I am not going to share my and his little secret right now. You can decide if you are intrigued and interested enough and then if you do contact him, then I assure you, you will definitely feel like writing about him.” I told her.

 

“You make it seem so mysterious. Let me see if I have any reason to come to Mangalore. As of now, I am not planning to come there anyway. Could you give me his contact details?” she asked.

 

I rummaged through my purse and found my “Radha Baliga” business card. “By the way, I am Radha Baliga.” I introduced myself as I handed over my own business card. Although the business card was in the name of “Radha Baliga”, it did show my correct designation.

 

When she saw my designation as CEO of our company, she said, “I did not know that the most popular brand of Bidis had a woman at the helm. I must say - I am impressed.”

 

“Yes. Bidi making has been in our family for many generations. Our father built up our company after he took over the mantle after our grandfather’s retirement. I expect Radha will take up the mantle once Papa decides to retire.” I said.

 

“Radha? You are Radha. Are you going to take up the mantle and not your brother? That will be a big first.” She said.

 

“Oh! I am sorry. I am Radha the daughter of our parents. Since Radhakrishna is so long, we call my elder brother as Radha. In a way it is appropriate I guess.” I added a little mysteriously.

 

“And why is that?” She asked.

 

“There you go again.” I teased her. “Come to Mangalore and you will find out that too – as to why it is appropriate in a way to call my brother as ‘Radha’”.

 

“Ok. Now you have whetted my appetite. I must plan a trip to Mangalore then. Anyway, I have heard it is a beautiful country there…?” She said somewhat interrogatively.

 

“Yes. Very beautiful. Verdant countryside. Lot of rice fields, clean air, bright sunshine and very friendly people. Have you had an opportunity to taste Mangalore food?” I asked her.

 

“I might have. Do you know of any particular restaurant where you get Mangalore food, here in Bombay? What about the ‘Kamat’ chain?” she asked.

 

Kamat is a very well known chain of hotels in India and in places like the Middle East, UK and the US. The entire chain serves only Vegetarian food and is extremely popular as a fast food chain for Indian food.

 

“ ‘Kamat’ chain unfortunately serves a mix of what goes under the label of South Indian Food.” I said. “There are one or two places which I have heard of. One is a place called ‘Circle Restaurant’ in an area known as King’s Circle.”

 

“I know where King’s Circle is.” She said.

 

“Another is a place called ‘Gopalashram’ in Fort.” I said. On many occasions on my visits to Bombay in the past, I had visited both these places when I had felt like eating home-like Mangalore Food.

 

“I have one friend who is a Mangalorean but married to a Maharashtrian – Vimla Patil. She used to edit ‘Femina’ magazine.” She said.

 

I had been reading ‘Femina’ on the flight to Bombay.

 

“She might know of a good place to eat genuine Mangalorean food.” I suggested.

 

“Yes she might know.” She agreed.

 

“Well let me see if I do make it to Mangalore anytime soon, I will surely call your brother up. And yes, I would love to meet you once again. Even if the story with your brother does not work out to anything big, I will still love to meet you once again. You live in Mangalore too, right?” She asked.

 

“Yes. And when you meet my brother, you will definitely not be able to avoid meeting me too!” I said. “We are almost one and the same person.”

 

Paying for the two salwaar khameez sets, I stepped out of the store.

 

Chapter 19

 

Table of contents