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MidReal Story
The Housewife Plan
Scenario:Two young indian men search for an apartment in Chennai. Apartment available for rent only for family. So they thought of a plan. With the help of their stylist friends, one of the men is disguised as a perfect young housewife and got an apartment and lived there as a family
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Rohan
He is a young man from a wealthy family in Chennai, India. He is adventurous, daring, and resourceful. He disguises himself as a housewife with the help of his friends, a stylist and his partner, to rent an apartment in a womenonly building. Using his charm and wit to maintain the disguise, Rohan experiences unexpected joys of domestic life, such as cooking and taking care of a plant.
Nandita
She is Sreeja's partner and also works as a stylist in Chennai, India. She is witty, insightful, and playful. Nandita assists Sreeja in dressing Rohan up as a housewife and is enthusiastic about the scheme. She appreciates the humor and unpredictability of the situation and adds her own perspective to the adventure.
Shravan
He is a young man from a wealthy family in Chennai, India and Rohan's close friend. He is supportive, clever, and confident. He helps Rohan disguise himself as a housewife by dressing him up and providing comedic guidance on domestic chores. Shravan is also interested in exploring this new aspect of life and enjoys the banter and adventure it brings.
"Bro, I had an idea."
I said to Shravan as we sat in my car.
We had just come back after checking out a few apartments, but none seemed to be the one.
Either they were too costly, or they were not up to our standards.
But this time, I had an idea.
"Which one is that?"
Shravan asked, sipping on his juice.
"Let me tell you," I said with a smile.
"So you know that building where only families are allowed to stay? Right?"
I asked, and he nodded.
"Well, I thought we should get an apartment there."
My suggestion made him raise his eyebrows in surprise.
"How do you plan on getting it? It's a women-only building."
"They have apartments for rent, and they are giving them away cheap. But there is a condition: only families can stay there. So I thought of a plan," I said and winked at him.
"What plan?"
Shravan asked, confusion clear on his face.
"We will pose as a family to get the apartment. With Sreeja's and Nandita's help, I can be disguised as a housewife. Then you can be my husband. We will get the apartment in no time."
I suggested.
Shravan gave me a weird look.
"You want me to be your husband?"
He asked, still confused.
I leaned back in my seat and explained the details to him.
We could save thousands on rent, and the apartment had that rooftop garden we both wanted.
Shravan started to warm up to the idea when I mentioned the building had a private gym.
"Let's call Sreeja and Nandita right now. They will know what to do," he said, and I nodded.
I took out my phone and dialed Sreeja's number, putting it on speaker.
The phone rang for a few seconds before she picked up.
"Hey boys, what's up?"
She asked cheerfully.
"Wait - you're going to be the wife?"
"Yeah, it's the only way we can pull this off," I replied, trying to sound confident.
Sreeja laughed, "Oh, this is going to be hilarious! Count me in for the makeover."
Shravan chuckled, "Alright, let's do it. But if anyone asks, I'm blaming you for this crazy plan."
I pace back and forth in my bedroom, waiting for Sreeja and Nandita to arrive with their styling equipment.
Shravan is seated on my bed, scrolling through photos of traditional housewives on his phone.
He occasionally points out certain details I should note: the way they drape their sarees, the mannerisms they display, and even their walking style.
The doorbell rings, and I jump.
Sreeja bursts in, carrying three large bags of supplies.
Nandita follows closely behind with a wheeled makeup case and garment bags.
They begin spreading their tools across my dresser.
The array of foundations, wigs, padding, and traditional women's clothing fills the space.
Sreeja holds up a burgundy silk saree, "This is the one. It's a classic style that will suit you."
I stare at it anxiously.
"Okay, first, you need to learn how to wrap it," she says, demonstrating the basic motion of wrapping the fabric around her waist.
I watch intently and then try to mimic her movements.
However, the fabric tangles around my legs.
Nandita steps in, "Let me help you."
She patiently shows me how to tuck the fabric into my waistband and create pleats.
Shravan records the process on his phone so I can refer to it later.
The silk feels cool against my skin as they work, pinning and adjusting the fabric.
After three failed attempts where the saree comes completely undone, I finally manage to wrap it somewhat securely around my waist.
Sreeja circles me, making minor adjustments to the pleats.
Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I grip the edge of my dresser as I try to balance in the saree.
Shravan stands behind me, demonstrating an exaggerated feminine walk.
He sways his hips dramatically and takes small steps.
Sreeja rolls her eyes, "Not like that."
She shows me how to stand up straight, take small steps, and move my hips gently.
I release the dresser and attempt to copy her.
The fabric constricts my legs, forcing me to take shorter strides.
I wobble precariously, arms outstretched like a tightrope walker.
After a few stumbling attempts across my bedroom, I crash into my desk chair, sending it rolling into the wall.
Shravan laughs, "Well, at least you didn't break anything this time."
Sreeja smirks, "You might want to practice that walk a bit more before the big day."
Nandita adds, "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it. We still have time to perfect everything."
I sit nervously on my bed as Nandita opens a small black case.
She pulls out a small bottle of clear gel.
"This will create the illusion of breasts," she explains, "When you apply it to your chest, it will swell and take shape."
She squeezes a generous amount into her palm and begins to apply it to my chest.
The cold gel makes me shiver.
Nandita's hands move in slow circular motions, spreading the gel evenly across my skin.
Within minutes, I can feel a strange tingling sensation as my chest begins to swell.
Before I can fully comprehend this transformation, Sreeja steps forward with a glass vial of amber oil.
She parts my short hair and drops the oil along my scalp in small droplets.
A warm sensation spreads across my head as the oil is absorbed into my skin.
I watch in the mirror, stunned, as my hair rapidly grows past my shoulders, cascading down my back until it reaches my waist.
Nandita approaches with her professional makeup kit.
She begins by applying a thick cream foundation that feels heavy on my skin, completely covering my stubble.
Using precise brushstrokes, she contours my face, making my jawline appear softer and my cheekbones higher.
Simultaneously, Sreeja works on adorning me with delicate accessories.
She fits a thin gold necklace around my neck and slides bangles onto my wrists.
The cool metal against my skin makes this feel more real than I could have ever imagined.
Finally, Nandita places a small red bindi between my eyebrows.
When she steps back, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and freeze.
I stand alone in my bedroom, gathering the courage to face the full-length mirror.
The weight of jewelry feels foreign - bangles clinking softly with each movement, the gold necklace cool against my collarbone.
My newly lengthened hair brushes against my back through the silk sari.
The face in the mirror still startles me - softened features, perfect makeup, red bindi centered between groomed brows.
I hear Shravan and the others chatting in the living room, waiting to see the complete transformation.
My hand trembles slightly as I reach for the doorknob.
I grip the brass doorknob tightly, feeling the cool metal against my sweaty palm.
The bangles jingle softly with my trembling hand.
Through the door, I hear Shravan and the girls chatting and laughing.
My heart pounds against the unfamiliar padding on my chest.
The silk saree rustles as I straighten my posture, remembering Sreeja's instructions about feminine movement.
I push the door open slowly, letting it swing wide.
The conversation in the living room stops abruptly.
Three pairs of eyes turn to stare at me.
I take a deep breath and step forward, ready to embrace the person I've become.
"See, I told you it would work," Nandita says, her voice filled with pride.
"The breast-enhancing gel and hair-growth oil are permanent for seven days. You can't reverse the effects until then."
My fingers unconsciously trace the unfamiliar curves on my chest.
"How does it work?"
I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"The gel contains a unique blend of chemical compounds that bind to the skin cells, altering their structure and causing them to swell. It's completely safe and reversible after a week."
Shravan paces back and forth in front of me, his eyes darting between me and the girls.
"We should cancel the apartment viewing tomorrow," he says anxiously.
"It's too dangerous."
But I've come too far to back out now.
I need to see this through.
"I'll be fine," I assure him, trying to sound confident.
Nandita steps forward, her eyes locked on mine.
"Remember, you can't remove any of the magical beauty products until the seven days are up. If you try, they won't come off."
I glance down at the bangles on my wrists, feeling a surge of curiosity.
I slide one of them up my arm, testing her claim.
It refuses to budge past my elbow.
I try again, but it won't move any further.
I stand in front of the main gate of my apartment building, adjusting the pallu of my saree one last time.
The morning sun casts a warm glow over the scene, and I take a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill my lungs.
I practice the gentle walk Sreeja taught me, remembering to keep my head down and my eyes cast to the side.
A group of women passes by, and I automatically lower my gaze, remembering to keep my movements subtle.
My bangles jingle softly as I pull out my phone to check the time of the apartment viewing.
Shravan texts me that he's running late, but I decide not to wait for him.
Instead, I start walking towards the nearby tea stall, focusing on maintaining my feminine posture.