How to Woo Your Bride

21| Plan in Action

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." 

― Eleanor Roosevelt, This is My Story

CHAPTER 21: Plan in Action

   Madhan headed over to Armaan's house as usual. He was excited to tell him he has started executing the plan already. It took a bit longer to get dressed, though. Now that he was on Project Woo Your Bride, whatever clothes he chose made him gag. Nothing complimented him, and all he wanted to do was throw them away. Finally choosing a plain red t-shirt with black tracks, he headed over.

   Ding dong.

   It took twenty long seconds for the door to open, and he was quite shocked to see Sheila at the door.

   "Sheila. What a surprise. What are you doing here?" he asked politely.

   Sheila's hair was a mess. It looked like she just got out of bed after doing the deed. She was wearing a white see-through t-shirt, with black shorts, and had red stains all over her shirt.

   "Who's there, sheep?" Armaan called out. He looked equally disheveled as Sheila.

   "Oh," Madhan sputtered. "Should I come later? I'm so sorry if I came at a wrong time."

   "Come back later man," Armaan said, laughing, as Sheila scowled at him and ushered Madhan inside. "I was just making henna for you. But he wouldn't cooperate and tried to make a mess."

   "Why for me?" Madhan asked, perplexed.

   "A nice coloring would do, to change your hair. It looks rather plain. So red highlights would spice up your look."

   Armaan took a pinch of henna and applied it on Sheila's cheek.

   "Get him to stop, will you?" Sheila whined, to Madhan. What the heck was Armaan trying to do, Sheila thought. She didn't want to make it appear like there was something going on between them. Thinking it was best to ignore Armaan, she requested Madhan to sit, so she could apply it on his hair.

   Madhan sat down on the dining chair and patiently waited as she applied it. She massaged his head, and he felt blissful. Armaan made a face when he heard him moan and groan.

   "Dude. Not so loudly. You have a wife, you know?" he said, carelessly.

   Sheila darted an evil glare at him, as she continued to massage his head.

   "Just apply it, Sheila. I don't want the massage."

   Sheila obliged, but her eyes were watery.

   Armaan had told him earlier, that Sheila was a part of the plan. She would help him become more attractive while Armaan helped him with his demeanor. At first, he vehemently disagreed with a girl helping him, but Armaan reminded him that nothing can beat a girl's view on what's hot and not.

   Half an hour later, Madhan thanked Sheila and went straight to his bathroom. Riya screamed in reflex as she looked at his hair but then started laughing. Madhan ignored her and went to shower.

   Once he was sure he rinsed all the henna out, he went to grab a towel but found that there was nothing in the hanger. He stepped inside his closet and all but squeaked when he saw that his clothes were missing. In its place were Riya's clothes. Her dresses, her night sets, her casuals, everything.

   "Where the hell are my clothes," Madhan fumed at Riya, peeping a head out of his bathroom door.

   "I put them away. There wasn't any space for mine."

   "What the heck? Riya, don't be so childish, and give me a set of clothes to wear."

   "I'm busy cooking," she shouted.

   "That's it. She asked for it," he said, anger clouding his eyes.

   He searched for a skirt, found one and put it on. Since he was on a roll, he took out an enlarged t-shirt and wore it. It was too tight for him, but he didn't care. Riya went overboard.

   Madhan wore aftershave and came out. Riya glanced at him and then started laughing. 

   "This actually suits you," she said, still grinning at him.

   Watching Riya smile made all of his anger go away. It was such a sight to watch her laugh. And he was glad he was the reason. He would do this hundred times a day, just to see her smile.

Politely, he asked, "Where are my clothes?"

"They are in that box. But I think you need new clothes. They are nice, but they don't suit you. And your hair looks nice," Riya said, quietly. Why was she being nice to him?

"Thank you. It was Shei- sorry, Armaan's idea. Would you help me shop for them?" Madhan asked, hopefully. That was terribly risky. For some reason, he didn't want Riya to know about Sheila. 

With all the niceness vanished, she abruptly refused and went back to her robotic mode.

Riya, he sighed. When was he ever going to understand her, let alone any girl?

   He took out a pair of trousers and collar shirt and wore them. Once again, he didn't tell Riya where he was going. Remembering that he forgot to tell his improvement to Armaan, he barged into his house and called out to him excitedly.

   "I stopped telling her where I was going," Madhan said. "And whenever she talks to me, I reply. But I never start a conversation," he continued.

   Armaan tsked. "Dude, I said no conversation at all. Zilch. Nada. You do not talk to her at all. Whether she starts it, or you need something."

   "But she's responding better."

   "Trust me," Armaan said, simply.

   Madhan sighed. He did trust Armaan wholeheartedly now. Now that he could actually see his plan in action already. But it was going to be so difficult.

   "Tell me why?"

   "Like you said, she's partly responding. Do you want to stay friend zoned?" Armaan asked, rolling his eyes.

   Madhan looked away angrily. Armaan was too frank for his own good. It hurt him so terribly. Which guy would like to hear that his wife has friend-zoned him? The whole concept was so alien. Determined that he would get Riya to like him as more than a friend, he submitted defeat.

   "By the way, I need to go shopping. Riya said my clothes were good but didn't suit me."

   Armaan clapped his hands together. "Okay, go with Sheila. She was about to ask you that in fact. Talk about coincidence."

   Madhan whitened. Though he was touched that Sheila wanted to help him out, he couldn't help but feel that it was like cheating on Riya. Especially when he hasn't even told her about Sheila.

   Madhan reluctantly agreed. Armaan phoned Sheila, who had come in fifteen minutes.

   "Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, quietly. No, he thought inwardly.

   Madhan didn't know why he had a queasy feeling in his stomach, but for once he decided to go with the flow.  

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