Sweat trickled down Lakshman’s face. He wiped it off with his hands and looked at the blazing sun. He saw his mother ploughing the field.
“Amma! Take some rest! I will do the remaining work,” he shouted.
His Amma looked at him and smiled. She knew how much he loved and cared for her.
“Just a few more minutes, and then we will have lunch together,” she replied.
Both of them completed their respective work and sat under the shade of the gulmohar tree. Lakshman looked at the bright orange flowers. He loved them. Under its shade, he always felt tranquility and peace. This tree was his best friend and guardian, and it harboured secrets which Lakshman was afraid to share with the world. Amma took out the roti and served it to Lakshman with pickle and onion. As they were eating, Ram dropped in.
He greeted Amma and kept his hand over Lakshman’s shoulder.
“How are you, my friend? This time the summers are really going to be bad. The rainfall will be less, making it more difficult for farmers like us,” he retorted.
Lakshman removed his friend’s hand from his shoulder.
“Hey Lakshman, are you coming for the boxing championship?” Ram enquired.
“You know I don’t like to watch these championships.”
“Come on! Please! For my sake!” Ram pleaded.
Lakshman wanted to give an excuse, but finally he gave in after Ram’s incessant requests.
Ram hugged his friend. Lakshman pushed him off.
“Why do you always push me off and remove my hand when I touch you? Do I give out some current? Am I untouchable?” Ram blurted out.
“I don’t like it.”
“Then how will you marry someone? Will you push your wife too when she will hug you?”
Lakshman looked at his mother. Both of them kept quiet. Sometimes silence is more golden than spoken words.
The next day, Ram and Lakshman met in the village arena. The crowd was cheering loudly. The friends watched the fight enthusiastically. On their way home, they noticed a group of boys harassing girls with inappropriate remarks. Ram tried to stop them, but he was pushed off and thrown to the ground. Lakshman came forward to stop them. Ram was surprised to see Lakshman involved in the fight, as he always avoided it. The way he thrashed and taught the boys a lesson was remarkable. The girls thanked him and left.
After the fight, Lakshman realised that the white garment he always fastened tightly around his chest had loosened up. Something he didn’t want anyone to know, a secret pressed flat against his skin, which only he and his mother knew— the curves. He saw Ram staring at him with an open mouth. He ran from there as fast as he could. For the next few days, he caged himself in his house.

————–
Finally, the two friends met after a week.
There were many questions in Ram’s eyes. Before he could say something, Lakshman spoke,
“Ram, my mother was very beautiful. Long flowing hair, fair complexion, and dove-shaped eyes lined with kohl which spoke volumes. But her own beauty became a liability for her. She trusted and loved my father, but her trust was shattered when he traded her for some money.
That awful night, when a stranger accompanied my father, she was doubtful. As they had their drinks, she overheard their conversation. She picked up her one-year-old child and quietly slipped from the backyard gate. At the bus stand, she boarded a bus, unaware of the journey and the destination. And we reached here.
A beautiful woman without male support is like an open feast. Everyone wants to have a slice of her. Draupadi was saved by Krishna, but there was no Krishna in her life. Why should vermillion and seven vows bind only a wife, while a husband who trades her away feels none of their weight? The vermillion was of no significance, as her own husband had traded her body, her soul, her dignity. And maybe one day he could have sold me too for some crispy notes. My mother shaved her hair off and chose widowhood to put an end to the raised eyes.
Do you know, Ram, both Sita and Durga reside in a female body? She keeps giving Agni Pariksha for the family, for society, and the day she can’t, either she dies or she awakens Durga to fight back. My mother transformed herself into Durga to protect her child, and she made me one too. She raised me like a boy to safeguard me from society. She always dressed me like a boy, kept my hair short, trained me to speak like them, gave me some herbs to make my voice hoarse and stronger, and got me trained in boxing to safeguard myself. She wanted her daughter to be strong and resilient. You always chided me for always wearing a full shirt and pants, for not letting you touch or hug me. Now you have all the answers.”
Ram was speechless. He was in awe after hearing his friend’s story.
“What is your actual name?” he asked.
“Lakshmi!” she replied softly.
“Ram, I want to keep my identity a secret for some more time. Will you help me?”
Ram nodded and smiled.