On the last day of college, Nisha urged me to send him a selfie of us. We were both wearing pastel sarees for our farewell and we knew we looked great. The farewell should have been a big deal in college but so many were worried about the impending exams that many people skipped it. Anirudh had wanted to bunk too, but Nisha had convinced him otherwise. The guys were wearing suits and looked smart, but they weren’t a patch on the girls. Nisha was wearing a peach-coloured saree and mine was pale blue.

I didn’t think it was a great idea to send him a selfie. There had been radio silence from him for days now.

‘But he’ll think I want him to notice me,’ I said, making a face.

‘So? Let him think what he wants,’ Nisha said with a shrug. ‘You’re looking so pretty today. He should realize what he’s missing out on.’

As if, I thought, as I pushed my hair back. I’d cut it to shoulder length and got it styled for the farewell.

I thought back to the morning when Aunty V and Ma had helped me drape my saree. When they had finished, I’d stepped back and looked into the mirror in Ma’s room, feeling different for the first time.

‘So grown up you look,’ Ma said, her eyes shiny.

I turned this way and then that. I couldn’t see the usual bulges that made me wince whenever I saw my body in the mirror. Wearing the saree made me realize I actually had curves, which looked good.

‘Sexy,’ Aunty V said, with a wink.

I adjusted the pallu over my chest and rolled my eyes.

‘She fills up that blouse far better than you ever did, Chitra!’ Aunty V chortled.

I blushed, a little scandalized.

‘Arrey!’ Ma said, frowning.

‘Arrey what? So your daughter has better boobs than you ever had, even with your pregnancy,’ Aunty V continued.

I felt my ears become hot.

‘Shush. She’s still a kid.’

‘She is not. And you know that as well as I do. But anyway, let’s help her with the make-up,’ Aunty V said, swiftly changing the subject.

‘No! I don’t need help with make-up!’ I protested.

‘But why?’ Aunty V asked, her hands on her hips.

‘Because you guys think make-up means make-up from the 90s!’ I said with a shudder. I was sure she was going to pull out frosty pink lipstick to wear. Seriously, they should ban frosty pink lipsticks! They were yuck.

She’d looked at my favourite plum matte shade distastefully as I kept it on the dresser.

‘We had these matte shades back in our time too. It made us look like corpses,’ she said.

I rolled my eyes. ‘That’s because foundation in your time sucked,’ I told her as I applied primer on my face.

It was her turn to roll her eyes.