Mohini's Wish

My short story was published in three parts in Gaylaxy Magazine.

http://www.gaylaxymag.com/articles/literature/story-mohinis-wish%EF%BB%BF-part-1/#gs.9b46ld

http://www.gaylaxymag.com/articles/literature/gay-story-mohinis-wish-part-2-3/#gs.9b4e0z

http://www.gaylaxymag.com/articles/literature/story-mohinis-wish-part-3-3/#gs.9b4yx4

Agni took his time rummaging through his mother’s dressing table drawers. She would have some regular-looking wigs hidden somewhere, though lately, she preferred the more outrageous ones. Aging had turned Mohini’s taste in make-up and wardrobe a tad gaudy. His gaze rested on her collection of lipstick. How many did she own? It seemed all the shades of red and brown and purple as well. He picked one that would go with the wig and applied it generously on his broad lips. "What are you doing with my lipstick?" It was as if Mohini grew an extra set of eyes behind her head when someone dared to come near her dressing table.

Agni smiled at her, the untrained application of the purple-shaded lipstick making his lips appear comically lopsided. "I completely forgot to tell you Mom, I am playing Draupadi in our college production."

“Why?” Mohini pursed her lips and wrinkled her brows.

“What why?” Agni was miffed at his mother’s reaction, who was mostly supportive of all his experimentations.

“Why are you playing Draupadi, of all characters?”

“Because I find it challenging.”

“Why do you have to go look for challenges in such extreme and bizarre places?” muttered Mohini as she noticed Agni wearing one of her wigs and a very purple lip color. “And why are you destroying my lip colors?” She snatched the lipstick from his hands and appraised its condition with critical eyes.

“Mom, stop fussing. It’s just lipstick. I will get you two more shades if there is any left in the stores after you looted them.”

“You know that is not my real concern.” Mohini looked like she had bitten into a sour grape. “The part that I am more worried about is that how your girlfriend will feel about you fluttering your eyelashes in a part for a woman.”

“Hello, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Then who is Mrinalini?”

“She is my friend, not girlfriend.”

“But you want her to be, don’t you? I know that you want her to become your girlfriend.”

Agni looked away from her, his eyes traveling outside the tenth-floor window. His mother just did not understand his relationship with Mrinalini. She was no ordinary girl with mundane insecurities.

“So, stop wearing lipstick for college plays and talk to her,” said Mohini stowing away her Lipstick.

“I have known her for less than a year and she thinks I am gay, anyway. So, why bother?” Agni vigorously cleaned his lips with a tissue his mother handed him.

“But you are not. That is the whole point. Why don’t you make that clear to her?”

“Do you hear yourself? How the hell can I just walk up to a girl and tell her that despite falling into the stereotype bucket, I am not gay?”

“Sometimes things have to be spelled out properly. Misunderstandings can ruin everything. This stupid World does not understand nuances.”

Agni plopped down on Mohini’s bed and hissed out a long-held breath. His handsome features seemed dampened with a mist of anxiety.

“What is it? Something troubling you?”

“I do want to tell Mrinalini about my feelings, but I don’t know how. She does not take me seriously. I am too deep into her friend zone.”

“Oops,” Mohini grimaced. “Now that is a real problem. It is easier climbing out of the grave than ever coming out of the friend zone of a girl.”

Agni could not help grinning at her solemn expression. She was such a drama queen.

His mother was different from other mothers. She was not possessive about him in the lowly banal way that other mothers are capable of. She wanted him to be happy no matter what it cost her. “I can do anything to make you happy,” she had once told him and that had made him cringe in discomfort. Agni disliked the extreme display of affection. He was a mild-natured person who hated anything too bright or loud. But now that he was older and a wee bit wiser, he knew how much his mother loved him and had meant what she had said. Instead of rebuking him for going after a girl and not focusing on academics, she was showering concern on the possibility of him being misunderstood by the girl he liked.

Agni was nervous about playing Draupadi. He had definitely bitten off more than he could stomach this time. The college drama team director wanted to prove how gender is not a binary, but a spectrum. The role of Draupadi, the wife of the five Pandavas from Mahabharata, one of the greatest Hindu Mythological epics, had been given to a man, and the role of Arjun, one of the Pandavas, was given to a woman. Agni had found the concept fascinating and auditioned for Draupadi’s role.

He wanted to showcase his versatility across characters and genders. But this time he might have gone too far, he thought nodding his head. That is what his best buddy Gautam had told him.

“Just to prove yourself an exceptional actor, must you also play the role of a woman? That is so lame,” Gautam had said rolling his eyes. “It just seems so forced.”

His drama teacher did not think so. He believed that actors should spend a good amount of time exploring and expressing themselves in every way possible, in all dimensions, in both genders. Agni could change his physical appearance by donning a wig and saree and applying make-up, but like his teacher, he believed that the real metamorphosis should take place in the mind. To play Draupadi, he had to feel like her, inside and outside.

Sitting in his mother’s room, touching her sarees and dresses that wafted of her favorite perfume was transporting him to that zone. He remembered smelling her clothes whenever he felt miserably unhappy or lost as a child. He would hide in her walk-in closet and spend a long time playing with the soft fabrics. It calmed him down and made him hum half-memorized Hindi songs fondly. His heightened imagination would turn the clothes into characters he saw on movie screens. A flowing kurta would transcend to a notorious dacoit with a rifle slung over his shoulder. A scarf wrapped around a hangar would shapeshift into a beautiful dancer pausing between her stage performance. The belts would hiss at him with beady eyes and slither their way out of the closet to find their next prey. Anything was possible in that universe. To play the part of Draupadi, he would have to go beyond his physicality and insert himself into a new identity.

But his mother was right. There was a new and parallel development brewing in his life that made him anxious as well. It was so inconvenient that at this point in his life when he felt ready to experiment and push his creativity to a new level, he also felt an intense pull towards Mrinalini. His affection for her had blossomed unexpectedly, almost inconveniently so.

Mrinalini had come from the city of Kolkata to Mumbai for her under-graduation. She was one of those people, whose reputation preceded her. Belonging to a family of actors, she was quite skilled herself but in a bookish way. She had read everything there was to learn about Indian and World cinema at this tender age. She wore the halo of hauteur with comfortable slickness and often rubbed people the wrong way with her brash variety of honesty, but Agni had seen that she was warm and generous beneath her critical outer layer.

They had started talking during last year’s Malhar. The college festival threw together fascinating music, dance drama, and other artsy events. She had seen him performing at the Experimental Theatre event and approached him with some terribly serious technical questions right after, which much to his embarrassment, he could not answer. She had raised her eyebrows and smiled at that. It was not an unkind smile, more an amused one. She discussed cinema with him like an eager cinephile would, mentioning films and film festivals he had never heard of. They attended acting workshops together and talked about cinema and its impact. Once he got to know her better he realized that her sincerity and focus made her exterior prickly and was mistakenly interpreted as snobbery by some. She was quite friendly, under the tough veneer of intellect.

Interacting with Mrinalini had changed him. He was drifting purposelessly content with not doing anything serious before he met her. Seeing her drive to live life with a hankering appetite, he wanted to do more than just floating about aimlessly. She had inspired him to expect more from himself as a person and as an actor.

__________

Agni boarded the bus to his college for the play rehearsal under an evening sky that looked dark and sulky, unable to decide whether to continue the hot spell or gratify Mumbai with a cool shower. Last week had been hot and stuffy, without a drop of rain, which was rather unusual in the month of September. But today the sky had turned black and angry, ready to take revenge, to make up for the unexpected dry interlude. Agni picked up the distinct smell of rain in the air, as he walked from the bus stop to St. Xavier’s College. Right before he could reach the rehearsal hall, big fat drops of rain pelted down on him like ruthless, piercing bullets. A quick glance at his reflection in the big hall mirror revealed how soaked he was. He always carried a raincoat in his backpack but had forgotten all about it today. Playing Draupadi had made him unusually nervy, pushing out all other thoughts from his mind.

Gautam let out a low whistle as he came near to get a better look at him. “Here comes Draupadi, rain-drenched sexy Draupadi…” Gautam had a sharp tongue and an opinion about everything in the World.

Agni shoved him aside playfully, looking for something to wipe his hair with. “Shut it, you moron! And why are you here so early?”

Gautam handed him a tiny towel. He always carried a paraphernalia of useful items in his huge rucksack. “Wipe down your hair quickly and then I will show you how well prepared I am for the role of Duryadhan. I have been practicing on my own for a while. The antagonist has to match up to the protagonist in every way, right?” he said squinting his eyes at the script in his hands. His chunky face looked podgier, his double chin protruding when he focused on the script.

Agni stopped in his tracks as his eyes caught the script. “What? Are you using a different version?”

“No, this is the latest script. The director emailed it last night. You should check your email more often,” threw back Gautam.

“How can he make a last-minute change? I spent the entire morning learning the dialogues from a script that is not even current!” Agni shook his head in frustration.

Gautam looked at him, his deep-set eyes suddenly tender with concern. “That’s okay. It’s not that different, especially your parts.”

He continued looking at him, his gentle gaze turning more intense. “You know what…you will look nice as Draupadi. You are quite pretty,” he said.

Agni let out a lazy smile. “I am handsome, you mean.” He looked at his naked torso, smiling at his well proportioned, fair-skinned self.

“You…you are beautiful!” Gautam stood behind him a bit too close. There was a look of longing on his face, for something he was unable to define or express. “You are so beautiful,” he repeated as if words were too limited to articulate what he wanted to say.

“What are you doing?” said Agni noticing Gautam’s frozen expression, turning towards him.

“I am trying to tell you something but…failing miserably,” said Gautam lowering his eyes and a moment later he wrapped his fleshy arms around him. Before he could react, Gautam planted a sloppy awkward kiss on Agni’s lips, making him leap in surprise.

Agni was astounded about what had just happened and could not trust himself to speak for a long moment. A sudden rustling behind them made him turn. Standing in the shadows near the door was Mrinalini, her mouth hanging open. She had not realized how audible her bag slipping from her shoulders had been. Agni put his wet shirt on hurriedly and strode towards her, but she stood motionless as if she had grown roots into the spot below her feet. Agni’s heart started galloping as he noticed the shock on her face change into a slight shade of disappointment, as her mouth tightened into a grim line. Her gaze danced around his face unable to focus when the rest of the production team arrived, complaining about the sudden spell of rain.

The rehearsals started promptly after but Agni could not focus on his part. He felt mad at Gautam and upset with himself as well. He should have explained to Mrinalini immediately that it was not what it might have looked like, but somehow the moment got and she did not wait a single moment after the rehearsals wrapped. Before Agni could collect his thoughts, she was gone.

_________

Whenever Agni tried approaching Mrinalini on campus after that, she seemed to be in a tearing hurry. She walked away from him as fast as she could with her long shapely legs; her naturally sparkly eyes, sheathed in reserved coldness when they took in his form. It broke his heart to see her react like this. If only she would give him a chance to explain.

His inability to resolve the stalemate with Mrinalini made him lash out at Gautam more harshly than he had intended to. Gautam looked miserable. He knew that he had been meted out a terrible retribution for a crime he had not intentionally committed. Gautam was not delusional, nor was he unintelligent so, how could he have misunderstood? He admitted having special feelings for Agni and had thought that Agni felt the same way about him.

“I thought you loved me…I love you so much. Didn’t you know about that already?”

Agni had no idea that his best friend was in love with him. “Why did you think like that, Gautam? What have I done to give you that idea?” He felt annoyed with what Gautam.

“I…I had assumed that it was obvious, given the fact that your parents…” He had deliberately not completed his statement and coughed uncomfortably instead.

Agni felt a wave of fury ride through his insides. “My parents…what? Finish what you started saying!”

Mohini heard the commotion and came rushing to Agni’s room.

“What is going on here?” she said looking at the two boys with concerned eyes.

“Gautam assumed something about me because of you and Dad. He just ruined everything. He…he behaved like an idiot and made sure that Mrinalini never takes me seriously again!” Agni looked down at his feet, filled with a sense of defeat.

Gautam looked wretched as well, his eyes filling with tears. “I so sorry,” he said in a choking voice and fled away as fast as his legs could carry him. Agni wanted to go after him but he first needed to sort himself out. It was a lot to unpack.

That night, Mohini watched Agni push around food on his plate pretending to eat. His healthy appetite had vanished. She called Gautam and found out what had happened on the rehearsal night. She wanted to help, but Agni was rather tight-lipped about it. He knew what she would say. Agni did not like her bringing up that their family was special and that it affected his life unintentionally at times.

“We are a family like any other!” he had emphasized firmly every time Mohini started on those lines, and she knew that he believed in it with all his heart, but she felt responsible for his unhappiness nonetheless. Mohini took in her son’s unhappy face and pledged silently to fix the situation, with or without Agni’s help.

_________

“Mrinalini, you have a visitor,” said the hostel warden in her booming voice.

Mrinalini was not expecting anyone. “Who is it?”

“Someone called Krishna Acharya. The man looks distinguished but I don’t think I have seen him before. Should I send him away?” The warden cast a protective glance at Mrinalini.

“No, it’s fine.”

Mrinalini combed her hair and headed down to the visitor room, still clueless about her surprise visitor.

“Hello Mrinalini, you wouldn’t know me but I… know of you. From Agni.”

Mrinalini tilted her head and focused on her visitor’s face. She noticed a striking similarity. “Are you related to Agni?”

Her visitor coughed uncomfortably and looked away. “We can’t possibly talk here. Its too crowded.” He paused while Mrinalini tried to decide what to make of him.

“Can you step out for a while?” said Krishna sweeping his glance around the room. It was packed with students talking to their respective visitors.

“Trust me, please. You must know the truth about Agni.”

Mrinalini’s brows gathered together in a frown as she got ready to protest but she suddenly felt an inexplicable surge of kindness towards the older man who looked so much like Agni.

Her voice was firm but polite. “We can we sit across the street in that coffee shop I am familiar with. I don’t want to go far.” She pointed to a café.

“Thank you for deciding to trust me,” he said in a reassuring voice.

How could she not trust him? He looked so dignified. There was an honest pleading in his eyes that made Mrinalini trust him.

_________

“My son talks of you so fondly.”

Mrinalini appraised the older man, her thoughts turning to Agni. He would most probably look like the man when he aged, she thought.

“You are very special to him and he would be so mad at me if he knew that I was here.” Krishna took a sip of his black coffee.

“Agni belongs to an unusual family. I brought him up with a lot of affection and care, yet I feel that I fell short.”

Mrinalini could not understand how Agni’s family was different. She hesitated. "Ahh...am I missing something?”

Krishna tried to come up with words that would best explain the situation, without upsetting her.

“Me and my partner got Agni through a surrogate, with IUI.”

Mrinalini’s eyes narrowed.

“IUI is…”, he started to explain.

“I know what it is,” she said.

Krishna cleared his throat and continued, “My partner could not biologically participate. By then we had learned that he was suffering from Leukemia.” His eyes grew a distant look. “He died within a year of Agni’s birth.”

“I raised him on my own. I had to be a father and a mother to him but I… preferred being his mother.”

Mrinalini raised her eyebrows.

“So, I became Mohini, his mother.”

“But…” Mrinalini looked bewildered, her confused thoughts entangled in a mess. She took a deep breath trying to process what he was telling her. Here was a handsome man, well-built, masculine, claiming to be Agni’s mother. It did not make any sense. Then something came tumbling out of her memory. Agni had talked about his mother with so much affection. “My mom is my world,” he had said with such tenderness. His bonding with his mother had seemed special. Now she understood why.

“It was my wish that I remain his mother even after he grew up, as he started socializing more often. He could have said no to that but my dear boy didn’t. He granted me my wish to be his mother forever. He brought home friends and not all reacted well to our arrangement. He lost most of them, yet some stuck around. Gautam was one of them. We included him in our lives with open arms but he…but he failed to understand that Agni is not like me.” There was a long pause.

“I know it’s a lot to comprehend. Take your time with that, but please believe me when I say that my son is in love with Gautam is his best friends, but nothing else. Gautam misunderstood and you caught them at a moment when Agni was as surprised as you were.”

Mrinalini blinked at him. She didnt know how to respond.

Krishna dipped his hand into his shirt pocket and brought out an envelope to hand over to her.

“This is us.”

Mrinalini opened it to find pictures of Agni and a beautiful older lady. She looked carefully at the pictures and saw Mohini. She was so graceful and Agni was her spitting image.

“I will make Mohini leave. Her part is over. For you and Agni she will go away forever, I promise. Please don’t punish my son for granting me my wish!”

__________