Ghee Dipped Vadai Ch. 01

Chapter 1: Shadows of Doubt

Prasanna stood in front of the mirror, examining his dark skin as the morning light filtered through his bedroom window. Twenty years old and still wrestling with the same questions that had haunted him since childhood.

"Prasanna! Breakfast is ready," Trisha's melodic voice called from downstairs.

He sighed, running a hand through his curly black hair -- another feature that didn't match his mother's straight, silky locks. The gossip magazines had a field day with that, just like they did with everything else about their relationship.

"Coming," he replied, pulling on a t-shirt before heading downstairs.

Their luxurious Chennai home was tastefully decorated with awards and movie posters from Trisha's illustrious career. She was busy setting dosas on the table, dressed casually in a simple cotton salwar kameez, her famous beauty unmistakable even without makeup.

"I made your favorite chutney," she smiled, her eyes warm and hopeful.

These moments were becoming increasingly rare -- just the two of them, without the weight of unspoken questions hanging between them.

"Thanks," he muttered, taking his seat.

Trisha watched him eat, her expression a mixture of concern and affection. "You have that physics test today, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sure you'll do great. You've always been brilliant with numbers... just like your grandfather."

There it was again -- the careful mapping of his traits to her family members, never mentioning his father. Prasanna felt the familiar twinge of irritation but pushed it down.

"Some guys at college were talking about your new movie," he said, changing the subject.

Trisha's face brightened. "Oh? What did they say?"

He couldn't tell her what they'd actually said -- crude comments about her body, vulgar speculation about who she'd slept with to get the role. The same kind of talk he'd been hearing his entire life.

"Just that they're looking forward to it," he lied.

His phone buzzed with a text. It was Karthik, his classmate: "Dude, saw your mom's interview yesterday. How does it feel to be raised by the hottest MILF in Tamil cinema? ????"

Prasanna's jaw tightened as he shoved the phone back in his pocket. Just another day in the life of Trisha Krishnan's son.

"I should get going," he said, standing abruptly.

"Already? But you've barely eaten--"

"I'm not hungry."

Trisha reached for his hand, her touch gentle. "Prasanna, is everything okay? You know you can talk to me about anything." Her voice wavered slightly as she studied her son's face. He'd grown so distant over the years, pulling away inch by inch until sometimes it felt like living with a polite stranger instead of her child.

She remembered when he was little, how he'd run to her movie sets, eyes bright with excitement, proudly telling everyone "That's my amma!" Now he barely acknowledged her career, flinching whenever fans approached them in public.

What had she done wrong? The question haunted her sleepless nights. Maybe it was all those years of gossip magazines speculating about his father, or the cruel comments from schoolmates he thought she didn't know about. Maybe it was the loneliness of being raised by a single mother constantly in the spotlight.

Her thumb brushed across his knuckles, noticing how he tensed at her touch. A small, familiar pain bloomed in her chest. She'd give up every award, every movie, every bit of fame just to have her little boy back - the one who didn't look at her with those guarded, conflicted eyes.

"I'm here," she added softly, trying not to sound desperate. "Whatever's bothering you, we can figure it out together. Just like we always have."

He looked at her -- the woman adored by millions, whose face graced billboards across the country, whose body was the subject of countless lewd comments. His mother, and yet sometimes a stranger.

"Everything's fine," he said, pulling away. "I'll be late tonight. Don't wait up."

As he walked out the door, he heard her sigh -- a soft, sad sound that followed him like a shadow. Just like the whispers that had trailed him his entire life, questioning who he really was and where he truly belonged.