Read Becoming Her - A New Life :: Chapter 9 Part 1

It took a long time for Kiran to find sleep. The house felt too strange and silent, too alone, too unfamiliar.

He lay in bed for what felt like hours, eyes wide open in the dark, the ceiling fan spinning above offering no lullaby. Sleep flirted with him—coming and going in wisps. Each time he dozed off,it seemed some phantom thought or feeling tugged him awake again. When sleep finally claimed him, it was light and shallow.

A sudden, sharp buzz of the doorbell jolted him awake. He blinked, disoriented. The morning light spilled through the windows in a soft golden haze. He turned to look at the wall clock.

Five minutes past seven.

With a groggy sigh, he pulled his nightgown into place and padded to the door, adjusting the soft cotton robe that had become his go-to comfort. He opened the door, squinting into the brightness.

“Didi (a respectful term meaning elder sister) sleeping till so late today?” the cook said cheerily, stepping inside.

“Didn’t sleep properly last night,” he murmured. “Just one of those nights.”

The cook moved toward the kitchen. “What should I make today, Didi?”

Kiran opened the fridge and frowned. The vegetable tray was nearly empty. He made a mental note to stop by the market in the evening.

“Just make me an omelette,” he said. “And three chapatis(Indian flatbreads).

“What about Bhaiya (affectionate title for elder brother)?" the cook asked, referring to Raj.

“He’s not here,” Kiran replied. “Gone for a couple of days.”

“Ohh,” she said with a knowing smile. “That’s why you couldn’t sleep last night, hmm? Missing Bhaiya?”

Kiran narrowed his eyes. “Enough. Don’t talk so much. Just finish your work.”

The cook chuckled. “I was just joking, Didi. No need to scold.”

“Just get on with it,” Kiran muttered, rubbing his temples as he turned toward the bathroom.

The hot water from the shower was a relief, washing away the grogginess from his limbs. By the time he stepped out—dressed in a fresh cotton gown, towel wrapped turban-style around his hair over his head—the smell of cooked food filled the kitchen.

"Close the door behind you, when you go", he told the cook loudly from the bedroom.

He moved to the wardrobe and pulled open the polished wooden doors. After some thought, he selected an elegant kurti—a long tunic—paired with a matching salwar (loose pants) and a light dupatta (scarf) to drape over his shoulder. He applied a minimal touch of makeup—just enough to look put-together. A stroke of kajal (eyeliner), a dash of lipstick, and a pair of stud earrings completed the look.

He remembered Roshni’s comment that he looked like someone’s retired aunt.

Not again, Kiran thought. He wasn’t going for glamorous, but he definitely didn’t want people asking, "What’s wrong, Kiran?" every time they looked at him.

He picked up the handbag—now a familiar accessory—and headed out. The morning was warm but breezy. As he approached the bus stop, the driver beamed at him in recognition.

He gave a polite nod and stepped inside, taking a window seat. Just as he settled in, his phone buzzed with a WhatsApp notification.

It was Raj.

Just landed. Kolkata airport.

Kiran typed back a simple:

Okay. Safe trip ahead.

More notifications followed. This time, it was from Nimita. She had sent a flurry of photos from last night’s dinner outing—group selfies, shots of the food, and one couple photo of Kiran and Raj.

Below the image was a sticker caption:

"Beautiful Couple 💕"

Kiran stared at the picture.

They did look good together.

He quickly shook the thought off. Must be female Kiran’s memories, he told himself. Her emotions bleeding into mine. That’s all.

He turned the screen off, shoved the phone back into his purse, and looked out the window. The city was coming alive—shops opening, rickshaws weaving between traffic, vendors shouting their morning deals.

"New day, new start", he told himself.

---

“Hi!” Roshni greeted, clasping Kiran’s hands warmly in hers.

She had spotted Kiran getting off the bus and rushed over after hurriedly parking her scooter. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and her whole face seemed to glow.

Kiran looked at her, puzzled. “Okay, what is it? What’s got you so worked up?” he asked with a laugh.

“You won’t believe it,” Roshni declared, eyes dancing. “So I’m not even going to say it. I’m going to show you the surprise.”

Kiran rolled his eyes, but his curiosity was undeniably piqued. “Fine,” he said, chuckling. “But if it turns out to be one of your weird obsessions again, I’m out.”

Roshni didn’t reply—she just grabbed his hand and started dragging him along.

“Where are you taking me?” Kiran laughed, trying to keep up.

“Just shut up and come, girl. You won’t regret it. Trust me.”

They walked across the college courtyard, past the staff room and the fountain that always gurgled lazily in the mornings, until they reached the canteen. It was still early, and the place wasn’t too crowded—just a few students here and there with their breakfast plates and tea cups.

Kiran looked around, confused. “You wanted idlis(steamed Indian rice cakes) this badly?” he teased. “Could’ve just said so.”

“No, you idiot,” Roshni whispered, smacking his arm. “Beefcake. Look over there.”

She pointed toward one of the corner tables.

Kiran followed her gaze.

There, sitting relaxed and slightly slouched, was a man with a solid, muscular frame. The half-sleeves of his fitted shirt showed off powerful arms, and the way he leaned back gave off a casual confidence. His hair was neatly styled, his partly visible face clean-shaven. Handsome hunk, Kiran thought. Then, as if sensing their gaze, the man looked up and smiled.

Kiran blinked.

That smile. That face.

It was... familiar.

Where have I seen him before?

And then, like a dam breaking, the memories flooded in.

Of crowded lecture halls and bunked classes, of endless cups of chai and stolen samosas from the cafeteria, of three college kids laughing over silly jokes—Kiran, Roshni, and Sameer.

Sameer.

The last time Kiran—female Kiran—had seen Sameer was the day everything changed. Their last day at college. They had just received their results. Kiran had done well, and Sameer had insisted on treating her. Roshni had been busy with a career counseling session, so it was just the two of them, sitting at a café, grinning ear to ear over cold coffee and butter toast.

They hadn’t known Kiran’s father was in the same café with a friend.

That evening had been one of the worst in her memory. Her father had shouted, accused her of shameless behavior. When she argued back, he struck her. That day, something had broken in her relationship with her father—something that had never mended.

And just like that, the carefree girl that Kiran had been, retreated. She had told Sameer what happened and begged him not to contact her again. Said it was better for everyone.

And they had never spoken again.

Until now.

“Hey,” said Sameer’s familiar voice, pulling Kiran out of the swirl of memory. “How are you, Kiri? Long time.”

Kiran managed a small smile. “I’m... good. Lecturer here now. What about you?”

Before Sameer could respond, Roshni jumped in. “Oye, he’s the new Physics lecturer! Isn’t this, like, the surprise of the millennium?”

Sameer laughed and shrugged. “I was looking for a job in this city after moving back. They needed someone experienced. Guess the stars aligned.”

“Well,” Roshni said dramatically, “they aligned perfectly. But what happened to you, man? You turned into an Adonis! Were you trying for the movies?” She playfully poked his arm.

" Ha Ha, No" he replied smiling. “I just started going to the gym after our little trio broke up. It became an obsession." He added, laughing, “I wanted to show up someday and scare Kiran’s dad with my muscles.”

Roshni burst out laughing. “Oh god, that would have been satisfying.”

Kiran smiled. He couldn’t help it. There was something so familiar and comforting about this moment—Roshni’s laughter, Sameer’s jokes, the easy rhythm they once shared.

But under the surface, something stirred.

That breakup in friendship... it really hurt him, Kiran thought. There had been more emotion in Sameer’s voice than just old nostalgia.

Was it more than friendship?

The memories within—those of the female Kiran—were clear. No romantic attachment. Just deep, intense friendship.

But what about Sameer?

Before he could dwell too much, Roshni clapped her hands.

“Well! Here’s to new beginnings,” she said brightly. She walked up to the counter, bought three bottles of cola, and handed them out with a flourish.

“Cheers!” she declared.

It was their old ritual—one they used to do at every meeting, on every crazy day.

Sameer raised his bottle. “To us.”

Roshni clinked her bottle with his. “To reunion.”

Kiran hesitated for a moment, then raised his bottle too.

“To what comes next,” he said.

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That's the end of Chapter 9 Part 1. Do let me know your thoughts on the chapter. Comment freely.

Thankyou

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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