Before The World Told Me Who I Should Be
“Why are you wearing your mother’s bangles?”
That question came years later.
But before the questions...
Before the judgment...
Before the names people used to hurt him...
There was only a child.
A child who was happy.
Gagan was four years old when he first discovered colors.
Not the colors that appeared in school books.
Not the colors teachers taught him.
The colors that lived inside his home.
His mother’s red saree.
The golden bangles on her hands.
The small box of lipstick she kept carefully inside her cupboard.
The high heels she wore only during special occasions.
To everyone else, those things were meant for women.
But to little Gagan, they were magic.
One afternoon, while his mother was cooking in the kitchen, Gagan quietly entered her room.
The sunlight came through the window and fell on the mirror.
He looked at himself.
A small boy.
Messy hair.
Curious eyes.
A heart full of imagination.
He opened the drawer and found his mother’s bangles.
Slowly, he put them on.
The sound of the glass bangles touching each other made him smile.
He walked in front of the mirror.
Then he found the lipstick.
He didn’t know what it meant.
He didn’t know why only women were supposed to wear it.
He only knew one thing:
He liked it.
His small hands struggled to apply it properly.
The color went outside his lips.
He looked funny.
He laughed.
A pure, innocent laugh.
Then he found his mother’s heels.
They were too big.
His feet couldn’t fill them.
But that didn’t stop him.
He walked around the room slowly.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Like an actor on a stage.
Like a dancer.
Like someone who belonged exactly where he was.
His mother entered the room.
For a moment, Gagan froze.
The happiness on his face disappeared.
He expected anger.
He expected shouting.
But his mother simply looked at him.
Then she smiled.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
Gagan nodded.
His mother walked closer.
She adjusted his bangles and wiped some lipstick from his cheek.
“You look happy.”
That was all she said.
She didn’t tell him he was wrong.
She didn’t tell him boys couldn’t do that.
At that moment, Gagan learned something important:
Being himself felt natural.
His father also saw him later.
Instead of getting angry, he laughed lovingly.
“Someone is ready for a movie role.”
Everyone smiled.
For Gagan, it was just a game.
Just imagination.
Just childhood.
He didn’t know words like:
Gender.
Identity.
Sexuality.
Society.
Expectations.
He was simply Gagan.
Outside the house, the world was different.
But he didn’t know that yet.
He didn’t know that one day people would question the way he walked.
The way he talked.
The things he loved.
The hobbies he chose.
The person he would become.
He didn’t know that many people would try to convince him that something was wrong with him.
Because inside his small home...
He was not wrong.
He was loved.
Years later, when Gagan looked back at that little boy standing in front of the mirror wearing his mother’s bangles, he finally understood something.
That child was not confused.
That child was not broken.
That child was not trying to become someone else.
That child was simply expressing joy.
The world came later and taught him fear.
Before the world gave him labels...
Before the world asked him to explain himself...
Before the world tried to decide who he should be...
There was only one truth:
Gagan was always Gagan.
And he was never wrong.
