My Journey: New Start Part 2

Please read the previous parts to understand this story click on the name of previous part to read it My Journey: New Start

The days following Ajay Sir's cancer diagnosis were a struggle for me. I tried to immerse myself in my studies, knowing the 10th board exams were looming, but the heavy sadness clung to my thoughts, making it hard to concentrate. Every weekend, I attended Yakshagana practice, which became a rare source of solace and joy. Over time, my skills improved, and soon, the exams were behind me, leaving me with some free time as I began exploring college options in Udupi and Mangalore.

But as the days passed, Ajay Sir’s condition deteriorated, and he was admitted to the hospital. My parents and I visited him, and the doctors somberly informed us that he didn’t have much time left. My father and I were heartbroken, the news weighing heavily on our spirits. When we returned home, I noticed a tense atmosphere. My father had committed to performing Yakshagana at an important function in Udupi, but with Ajay Sir too ill to take part, my father was anxious about who could step into his role.

Sensing his worry, my mother gently suggested, “Why can’t our son do it? He’s been practicing every weekend, and Ajay has been training him.”

The idea seemed to lift a great burden from my father’s shoulders. With my exams out of the way and two months of free time ahead, he wanted me to give my best performance at the event, which would be attended by many notable guests, including politicians and wealthy patrons. There was only a week left before the performance, so I had to start preparing in earnest, which meant wearing a saree and applying makeup every day to get accustomed to it.

My mother was delighted by my dedication. One day, she took me to her room, opened her wardrobe, and revealed her collection of sarees. She asked me to pick one for the performance. I was overwhelmed by the array of colors and patterns, but eventually, I chose a red saree with a black blouse. My mother, however, frowned and said, “Why did you pick a simple saree? You need to wear a silk saree for your performance.”

Realizing the importance of the occasion, I returned to the wardrobe and this time selected a grand golden silk saree with white accents, pairing it with a blouse that was entirely gold. The ensemble was far more elegant and befitting of the event. My mother nodded approvingly and handed it to me.

As I stood before the mirror, draped in the grand golden silk saree with white accents, the first stirrings of transformation began. The saree, with its rich, lustrous fabric, clung to my body in a way that felt both foreign and empowering. It was the first step in my metamorphosis from a student to a Yakshagana performer.

My mother began her meticulous work of transforming me into the Yakshagana character I was destined to portray. She started with the wig, a long, flowing cascade of hair that she carefully placed on my head. With gentle hands, she adjusted it until it looked natural, as though it were my own hair. She then combed it with a loving touch, ensuring every strand was perfectly in place before gathering it into a sleek, elegant ponytail that flowed down my back. The weight of the wig and the way it moved with me made the transformation feel even more real, enhancing the regal look that the saree already provided.

Next, she turned her attention to the jewelry. She selected a pair of heavy, traditional gold earrings, their intricate design catching the light with every movement. The earrings dangled just above my shoulders, their tiny red and green stones glimmering against the golden fabric of the saree. She then fastened a broad, matching necklace around my neck, its weight a constant reminder of the character I was about to embody. The necklace, studded with similar stones, rested perfectly against the blouse, its richness adding to the opulence of the silk saree. She didn’t stop there—she added gold bangles to each of my wrists, their soft clinking creating a rhythm that echoed through the room with every slight movement of my arms.

The transformation continued with the application of makeup, a process my mother approached with both precision and love. She began by applying a base of foundation, her skilled hands blending it carefully to ensure my skin had a flawless, even tone that complemented the fairness of my complexion. The foundation seemed to erase the last traces of the boy I had been, replacing them with the smooth, unblemished face of the Yakshagana performer I was becoming. She followed with concealer, deftly covering any imperfections and brightening the areas under my eyes to give me a fresh, youthful look.

With the base set, she moved on to my eyes, the windows to the character’s soul. She lined my eyelids with bold, dark eyeliner, drawing thick, precise lines that gave my eyes a dramatic, intense look. The eyeliner seemed to widen my gaze, making my eyes appear larger and more expressive. She then applied a rich, deep eyeshadow, expertly blending shades of gold and brown that mirrored the colors of my saree. The eyeshadow added depth and mystery to my eyes, making them stand out even more. Finally, she finished my eyes with mascara, carefully brushing it onto my lashes until they were long and thick, framing my gaze with a captivating, almost mesmerizing effect.

Next, she applied a soft, rosy blush to my cheeks, blending it just enough to give me a natural, healthy glow. The blush added warmth to my face, contrasting beautifully with the cool, regal tones of the gold in the saree and jewelry. It was as though the blush brought life to the transformation, adding a hint of the vibrant energy that I would need for the performance. Finally, she selected a deep red lipstick, applying it with meticulous care to my lips. The color was bold and rich, perfectly complementing the golden hues of my outfit and adding a touch of drama to the overall look. The lipstick seemed to complete the transformation, turning my lips into a focal point that exuded both strength and grace.

When my mother was done, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the reflection staring back at me. The transformation was astonishing—I looked every bit the Yakshagana performer, ready to step into the spotlight and honor Ajay Sir with my performance. The combination of the perfectly draped silk saree, the carefully chosen jewelry, and the expertly applied makeup had not only changed my appearance but also altered the way I felt. I no longer saw myself as a boy preparing for a role; I had become the character, embodying the grace, power, and beauty that the role demanded. My mother’s skillful hands had crafted not just a look, but a persona, infusing me with the confidence I needed to take on the stage.

As I walked out of the room, each step accompanied by the soft rustle of the saree and the gentle clinking of the bangles, I felt the transformation deep within me. The weight of the wig, the shimmer of the saree, the sparkle of the jewelry, and the flawless makeup combined to make me feel invincible. I saw my father waiting for me, his eyes filled with pride and approval. His smile told me that he saw the transformation too, that he recognized the performer I had become. With a reassuring nod, he began to guide me through the final preparations for the performance, his confidence in me echoing the newfound confidence I felt within myself.

Sorry for the delay i was bit busy with work so i could not write the story please leave your comments and suggestions so that i can improve the story. Please share the stories that will motivate me to write stories faster.