The Upgrade of Vijay to Vijaya

Vijay grew up in a middle-class Telugu household in a small railway colony near Vijayawada. His father was a strict business man who believed boys should become engineers or officers — anything else meant failure. His mother was gentle but cautious, always worried about “what people will say.” From childhood, Vijay was unusually quiet and observant. He preferred drawing rangoli patterns with his mother rather than playing cricket outside. During festivals he loved watching the women of the house get ready — not because he was attracted to them, but because he admired the grace of sarees, bangles, and the transformation ritual itself. He didn’t understand it then. He only knew he felt calm when he imagined himself like them.

Vijay’s Childhood — The Week He Became “Vijaya”
Vijay was 10 when a wedding happened in their family— the kind of loud extended-family Telugu wedding where cousins multiplied overnight and sleep schedules disappeared. The function hall smelled of jasmine, agarbatti, and ghee sweets. Children ran like a small festival of their own.
On the second day, while chasing older boys near the dining area, Vijay slipped on spilled sambar. His cream silk shirt and dhoti were ruined beyond rescue. His mother dragged him to the room behind the stage, half embarrassed, half annoyed.
There were no spare clothes his size.
Only his cousin Meena’s bright blue frock.
At first she hesitated — not because she thought it wrong, but because she knew what people might say. But practicality won.
“Just until evening,” she told him softly.
The frock fell below his knees, loose but soft. She combed his hair, parted it, and wiped his face clean.
Vijay didn’t look at the mirror immediately.
When he finally did, his stomach tightened.
Not fear…
Something sharper — awareness.
He walked out expecting laughter.
Instead — Silence, then acceptance
The boys stared first.
Then one snickered.
Another whispered.
Soon they avoided him completely.
But the girls did not.
Meena pulled him into a circle game as if nothing unusual existed. No questions. No teasing. Just a simple rule: if you’re here, you’re one of us.
By afternoon he had forgotten to feel embarrassed.
They taught him clapping games.
He helped arrange flowers for decoration plates.
Someone tied anklets on him “just for fun.”
That night during the baraat dance, he danced beside them — copying their steps, their hand movements, their laughter.
For the first time, he wasn’t trying to fit anywhere.
He simply existed.
The next morning — rejection
He returned in his regular boy clothes.
The girls hesitated.
They smiled politely, but didn’t call him to play.
The boys still didn’t want him either — now he was the boy who wore a frock.
He sat near the staircase alone, watching both groups belong somewhere.
His mother noticed.
She didn’t lecture. She didn’t ask questions.
She disappeared into the room and returned with the same blue frock.
“Go play,” she said quietly.
That moment stayed with him forever — not permission, not encouragement, just understanding.
He ran.
The girls cheered like a missing teammate had returned.
Becoming “Vijaya”
By evening, the transformation was no longer temporary play.
They applied tiny dots of nail polish to his fingers.
Mehendi spread across his palms and feet in crooked patterns.
Someone tied ribbons in his hair.
He kept staring at his hands — unable to explain why he didn’t want the color to fade.
Relatives gathered around, amused at first, then oddly charmed.
“Such a pretty child!”
“Looks just like a daughter.”
“Call her Vijaya!”
The name stuck instantly.
For nearly a week — ceremonies, meals, gossip, games — everyone called him Vijaya. Not mockingly, but naturally, as children accept new rules faster than adults.
His mother glowed with a strange happiness. She had always wanted a girl.
His father burned with silent discomfort but couldn’t intervene; the mehendi meant he had to stay dressed that way until it faded, and elders insisted it was inauspicious to scrub it off.
So the days passed.
And in those days, Vijay learned something he would never again experience so purely:
He was treated gently.
He was listened to.
He was included without competition.
No expectations to be tough.
No comparisons.
No “boys don’t do that.”
Only presence.
The end of the week
On the last day, the mehendi lightened. His mother put him back into boy clothes.
Everyone returned to calling him Vijay.
Nothing dramatic happened.
But something irreversible had formed:
He now knew a version of himself existed — one that felt calm, warm, and accepted.
He also learned it could disappear overnight.
So he never spoke about it again.

The Aftermath — When the Week Didn’t End
When the wedding ended and life returned to routine, everyone else forgot.
Vijay didn’t.
School corridors felt different now. Louder. Rougher. The boys shoved each other, shouted over nothing, argued about cricket scores and wrestled during lunch breaks. Before the wedding, he had tolerated it. Now it felt like noise pressing against his skin.
He couldn’t explain the shift. Only that something inside him had softened — and refused to harden again.
Mannerisms That Stayed
That week had quietly rewired his body language.
He didn’t “decide” to change. His body simply remembered.
He began sitting with his knees close together, back straight.
When picking something from the floor, he bent his knees instead of folding forward.
He wiped benches before sitting — a habit he’d copied from older girls adjusting their skirts.
He covered his mouth when laughing.
His speech became expressive; his hands moved while talking.
His face reacted fully to emotion — raised brows, widened eyes, dramatic frowns.
They were small things. Almost invisible.
But schoolchildren notice everything.
The Boys’ Reaction
At first it was mild confusion.
“Why are you sitting like that?”
Then teasing.
“Are you scared to play kabaddi?”
“Why do you talk like that?”
He tried once to deliberately sit with his legs apart like the others. It felt staged. Like wearing a costume that didn’t fit.
He tried to laugh loudly without covering his mouth. It felt forced.
So eventually, he stopped trying.
The teasing turned into avoidance. Boys stopped choosing him for teams. He was neither aggressive enough nor interested enough in proving himself. He wasn’t bullied harshly — he was simply edged out.
And exclusion, he learned, hurts quietly.
The Girls’ Circle
The shift happened gradually.
One afternoon, during art period, he helped a classmate complete a rangoli sketch. Another time, he explained a math problem patiently when others got irritated. He never mocked handwriting, never laughed at mistakes, never pushed for attention.
The girls began leaving space for him at their desks.
They found him:
Gentle
Non-threatening
A good listener
Surprisingly attentive to detail
He noticed something else too.
When he sat among them, his body relaxed.
He didn’t have to calculate how he was walking or talking.
He didn’t feel watched for performance.
He could be animated. Soft. Observant.
And no one treated it as wrong.
The Split Identity Begins
At home, his father constantly reminded him:
“Stand properly.”
“Why are your hands moving so much?”
“Talk like a boy.”
Vijay began living in compartments.
At school with girls — natural, expressive, at ease.
In front of boys — guarded, minimized.
At home with father — rehearsed masculinity.
He wasn’t trying to be feminine.
He wasn’t trying to be masculine either.
He was trying to be allowed.
The Emotional Impact
What stayed with him most wasn’t the clothes from that wedding.
It was the experience of belonging without competition.
Among boys, there was hierarchy — who was strongest, loudest, fastest.
Among the girls, he felt valued for listening, for kindness, for patience.
That shaped him deeply.
He learned that intimacy didn’t require dominance.
He learned that softness could coexist with strength.
He learned that safety feels different from validation.
But he also absorbed a quiet message:
The parts of him that felt most natural were the parts he had to monitor in certain spaces.
That awareness planted the earliest seed of secrecy.

Three years passed.
By now Vijay was thirteen — old enough for the world to begin separating children into categories. Voices deepened, shoulders broadened, friendships narrowed. But his circle did the opposite.
He had four close classmates — all girls. They studied together, shared lunch, and trusted him with small secrets. He was the one they asked to hold notebooks, guard bags, and listen without judgment.
He never felt like an outsider with them.
Conversations He Wasn’t Supposed to Hear
Around that age, their discussions changed.
They spoke in lowered voices about body changes, sudden pain during class, mood swings, and why sports periods became uncomfortable certain days of the month. When teachers weren’t around, they compared experiences in whispers mixed with embarrassment and relief.
At first, they paused when Vijay approached.
Then gradually they stopped sending him away.
He didn’t fully understand everything — but they sensed he wasn’t curious in a mocking way. He listened the same way he always did: carefully, respectfully, almost protectively.
In a strange way, they trusted him more than many boys because he never tried to prove he was different from them.
The Birthday Party
For his thirteenth birthday, they all came to his house.
No boys.
His mother noticed immediately — not with worry, but with recognition. She had watched this pattern grow for years.
One of the girls arrived wearing a bright blue frock.
It triggered a memory.
Laughing casually, she told them about the wedding years ago — about the ruined clothes, the borrowed dress, the week everyone called him “Vijaya.” Then she went inside and returned with an old photo album.
There he was — thin, shy, standing with mehendi-covered hands, hair neatly combed, wearing that blue frock.
The girls exploded into delight.
Not ridicule — fascination.
To them it wasn’t strange. It was adorable, almost magical, like discovering a hidden chapter of someone they already trusted.
They huddled in a corner whispering intensely.
Then they suddenly announced they needed to buy something and ran out together.
The Gift
They returned carrying a carefully folded package.
A frock.
They had pooled their gift money and bought it.
They insisted — not teasingly, not as a dare — but as if inviting him into a shared memory they now felt part of.
Vijay refused immediately. His heart pounded. This wasn’t childhood accident anymore. This was deliberate.
He looked toward his father’s room.
Silence.
His mother said nothing — only placed a hand on his shoulder.
His friends waited, not laughing, not forcing.
What convinced him wasn’t pressure.
It was the absence of judgment.
Slowly, nervously, he agreed.
Becoming Vijaya Again
When he came out dressed, the room went quiet for a second.
Then cheers.
Not the loud teasing cheers boys made — but warm excitement, like they were proud of him for trusting them.
Something inside him relaxed in a way he hadn’t felt since the wedding week.
They adjusted the sleeves, fixed his hair, made him stand properly for photos.
Someone said instinctively:
“Now cut the cake.”
And another corrected:
“Wait — today it’s Vijaya’s birthday.”
The Father’s Silence
His father watched everything.
He was uncomfortable. Deeply so.
But he also saw something he hadn’t seen in years — his son laughing without restraint, moving freely, not guarded or anxious.
The mother’s eyes were shining.
The children were happy.
So he swallowed his reaction.
When they began singing, he joined softly.
“Happy Birthday to Vijaya…”
It was not approval.
But it was not rejection either.
For Vijay, that mattered.
Acceptance Expands
Even the neighborhood aunties played along — adjusting bangles, complimenting his looks, calling him pretty in the innocent way older women sometimes do with children.
No mockery.
No shock.
Just a house full of people participating in a moment.
His mother was radiant that evening — as if she had briefly experienced raising a daughter she once imagined having.
What Changed Inside Him
That day was different from the wedding.
The wedding had been circumstance.
This was choice.
He understood now: He didn’t wear the clothes because he had to.
He wore them because he wanted to feel that version of himself again.
And the feeling wasn’t about being a girl.
It was about being unguarded.
But the difference also created a new awareness — the world outside that house might not react the same way.
So along with comfort, a new companion appeared:
Secrecy.
He folded the frock carefully after everyone left.
Not as a costume.
As something personal.

After the Guests Left
The house slowly quieted.
Paper plates were stacked, balloons hung half-deflated, and the smell of cake still lingered in the hall. Vijay stood near the mirror, still in the frock, unsure whether to change back or wait to be told.
For the first time that evening, there was no audience.
Only his parents.
His mother walked toward him and suddenly pulled him into a tight hug.
She didn’t laugh this time.
Her voice trembled.
“Thank you… for being my daughter today. I’ll remember this for my whole life.”
He felt her shoulders shake. She was crying — not dramatically, but softly, the way someone cries when a long-held wish briefly becomes real.
Vijay didn’t know how to respond. He just stood still, letting her hold him.
Until that moment, he hadn’t realized the day wasn’t only meaningful for him.
It had filled something empty in her too.
His Father Speaks
His father had been unusually quiet all evening.
Now he stepped closer, looking at both of them — not angry, not amused, but thoughtful.
He spoke slowly, choosing words carefully.
“Don’t be sad. We can dress him like this whenever you want.”
“Today I understood… a house really feels incomplete without a daughter.”
“I’m proud of him. He can be both Vijay and Vijaya.”
“We’re lucky to have our child.”
The sentence was simple.
But to Vijay, it felt enormous.
For years he had only tried not to disappoint his father. Now, for the first time, he heard pride — not for behaving like other boys, but for simply being himself.
A quiet relief settled inside him.
Not excitement.
Not thrill.
Safety.
The Night Didn’t End
His mother wasn’t ready to let the moment go.
She wiped her eyes, smiled, and said gently:
“Stay like this tonight… just a little longer.”
She went to her cupboard and took out one of her nighties. They were almost the same height now; it would fit him comfortably.
She handed it to him the same way she would to a daughter at a sleepover — casually, naturally, without ceremony.
No one called it strange.
No one called it a joke.
Just a continuation of the day.
What It Meant to Him
That night, something changed in Vijay’s mind.
Until then, “Vijaya” existed only in special circumstances — the wedding, the birthday, surrounded by people.
But wearing the nighty inside his own home, with his parents moving around normally, created a different feeling:
This wasn’t performance.
This was allowed existence.
He noticed small things:
His mother talking to him more gently
His father behaving relaxed instead of corrective
The absence of tension in his own body
He slept more peacefully than he had in months.
And when he woke the next morning, the first thought that came wasn’t confusion or guilt.
It was a question:
If they accept both… why does the outside world require only one?
That question would stay with him for years — eventually becoming the reason he learned to separate his private self from his public one.

The Next Day at School
The morning after his birthday, Vijay walked into school with a strange mix of pride and nervousness. The memory of sleeping in his mother’s nighty still felt warm and unreal.
His friends were waiting.
They didn’t tease him.
They didn’t make a spectacle.
They pulled him aside quietly, almost ceremoniously.
“Tell us everything.”
They had kept their promise — no one outside their circle knew what happened. But curiosity sparkled in their eyes.
He hesitated only a moment before admitting softly:
“I didn’t change back… I slept in Amma’s nighty.”
There was a pause — then delighted gasps, not mocking, but thrilled that the story had continued after they left.
That moment sealed something between them.
It wasn’t about clothes anymore.
It was about trust.
Becoming Part of Their World
Over the next months, his position in their group subtly shifted.
He wasn’t just the gentle friend who listened.
He became included in conversations that most boys never heard.
Fashion discussions started casually — matching bangles to salwar colors, deciding which fabrics were comfortable in summer, complaining about ill-fitted uniforms.
At first, he only listened.
Then someone asked:
“Do you think this color suits me?”
He answered honestly.
And he was right.
Another time:
“Should I braid my hair or leave it open with this dress?”
He suggested a side braid with small clips.
It worked beautifully.
Gradually, discussions deepened — not in a scandalous way, but in a practical, teenage way. They spoke openly about:
Which cuts flattered their body shapes
How certain fabrics revealed or concealed
What made them feel confident versus uncomfortable
Lipstick shades for school functions
Nail colors for festivals
They asked his opinion the same way they asked each other’s.
And without realizing it, Vijay developed a sharp eye:
He noticed proportions.
He understood balance.
He paid attention to how material moved.
He instinctively sensed what made someone glow with confidence.
It didn’t feel unusual to him.
It felt natural.
Shopping with His Mother
One weekend, his mother took him shopping.
Halfway through choosing sarees, she realized something surprising — he had better suggestions than the shop assistant.
“This border is too heavy for that blouse.”
“That shade will wash you out in evening light.”
“Try the darker maroon; it’ll look richer.”
The saleswoman nodded approvingly.
His mother watched him carefully.
She no longer felt the absence of a daughter during shopping trips.
She had a companion who genuinely enjoyed the process — someone who didn’t rush her or complain.
Later that month, she took him to her regular beauty parlour.
Not for a makeover.
For a haircut.
They requested an androgynous style — soft layers, slightly longer on top, versatile enough to style differently.
When he looked in the mirror afterward, he saw flexibility.
He could tilt one way or the other.
He didn’t feel split.
He felt adaptable.
The Next Birthday
By the time his next birthday arrived, he half-expected a repeat of the frock surprise.
He wasn’t prepared for the thoughtfulness that came instead.
His friends had planned carefully.
They gifted him:
An elegant ethnic Punjabi suit with a flowing dupatta
Carefully chosen padded inners for shape.
A small but tasteful makeup kit
It wasn’t playful anymore.
It was intentional.
His mother didn’t hesitate.
“Wear it.”
He did.
The transformation felt smoother this time — less nervous, more assured. The fabric fit better. The look felt coordinated. His friends adjusted the dupatta, blended makeup gently, fastened bangles.
His mother added her own anklets.
His father, after watching quietly for a few minutes, stepped out with her.
They returned carrying small packets.
Clip-on earrings.
A delicate nose pin.
No speeches this time.
Just completion.
When Vijay looked in the mirror, he didn’t see a costume.
He saw a version of himself that had been evolving for years.
The Neighbors’ Reaction
The neighbor aunties, present again for cake and snacks, reacted warmly.
One laughed and said,
“Why does Vijaya visit only once a year? Let her come more often!”
Everyone burst into laughter.
There was no tension in the room.
No discomfort.
Just a shared understanding that this was part of their family’s unique rhythm.
What This Did to Vijay
These experiences shaped him in ways deeper than clothing:
He learned empathy through listening.
He developed aesthetic intelligence.
He discovered fluidity without labeling it.
He understood that identity could be contextual, not contradictory.
Most importantly:
He grew up in a home where love adjusted instead of restricting.
Outside, he still navigated carefully. Society wasn’t as gentle as his inner circle.
But inside his home and among his closest friends, he wasn’t forced to choose between Vijay and Vijaya.
He could move between them.
And that flexibility would later define how he approached love, marriage, and vulnerability.

The Invitation
By now, in the small neighborhood circle, “Vijaya” was no longer an unheard-of presence. A few aunties had seen him during birthdays and casual gatherings. To them, he was not a curiosity — he was simply that gentle child next door who sometimes came dressed up.
So when one of the neighbor aunties invited his mother for the Varalakshmi pooja, she added naturally:
“Bring Vijaya also. Girls bring good energy to the house that day.”
The sentence froze Vijay.
Until then, Vijaya existed only inside safe spaces — home, friends, familiar faces. A religious gathering felt different. It meant elders, relatives of neighbors, strangers.
He refused immediately.
His mother didn’t push at first. But over the week she kept asking softly, hopefully — each time sounding less casual and more emotional.
On the morning of the pooja, the request came again.
This time he reacted sharply.
He argued, raised his voice, and left for school upset — not angry at her exactly, but frightened of stepping outside the circle where he was protected.
Friends’ Advice
At school, he narrated everything to his friends.
They listened carefully.
Instead of siding with his fear, they saw his mother’s longing.
“You’re not doing something wrong,” one told him.
“She just wants to share her happiness,” another said.
“You trusted us. Trust her too.”
Their reassurance reframed the situation — not exposure, but extension of trust.
By evening, guilt replaced resistance.
The Apology
He returned home quieter than usual.
His mother avoided looking at him at first, pretending to be busy. A small, dramatic silence — the kind parents use when hurt but hopeful.
He apologized softly.
Then, after hesitation:
“Will you… help me get ready?”
She didn’t agree immediately. She made him ask again — not to control him, but to be certain he chose it himself.
Finally she smiled, relief obvious.
Before starting, she asked gently for one promise:
that he wouldn’t reject her out of fear next time — that he would at least talk instead of running away.
He nodded.
Preparing Vijaya
That evening preparation was slower and more careful than any birthday.
It wasn’t play anymore — it was presentation.
She made him wear that same punjabi dress with dupatta which he wore on his birthday for a pooja, adjusted every detail patiently, and explained how to sit, how to greet elders, how to move comfortably without drawing attention.
It felt less like dressing up and more like being guided into a role of grace.
Before leaving, she quietly informed the closest neighbors — not as a secret to hide, but as a request for sensitivity. They understood. In small communities, affection often outweighs curiosity.
At the Pooja
The house was filled with turmeric scent, flowers, lamps, and women in bright sarees.
For the first few minutes, Vijay’s heartbeat was loud in his ears.
Then something unexpected happened.
No one interrogated him.
The aunties welcomed him the same way they welcomed younger girls — asking about studies, offering sweets, adjusting seating space. They didn’t overact, and that normalcy dissolved his fear.
Soon he was sitting among them comfortably.
He helped arrange plates, passed flowers, held lamps carefully when asked. The younger girls pulled him into their conversations effortlessly — about school, music, festivals.
Because he behaved naturally, no one looked twice.
For that evening, he didn’t feel like he was performing.
He simply responded to the environment around him.
The Mehendi
After the rituals, someone brought mehendi cones.
Hands extended in excitement — and his were pulled forward too.
He hesitated only a second.
Then allowed it.
As the cool paste traced patterns across his palms, a familiar calm spread through him — a memory from childhood returning, but now chosen knowingly.
Time passed unnoticed.
He laughed, chatted, and listened. For those hours, the careful boundary he usually held faded.
He wasn’t thinking about being a boy pretending to fit.
He was just another participant in the gathering.
And that freedom made him lighter than he expected.
Returning Home
When they returned, his father opened the door.
He paused.
Not shocked — just quietly taken aback at the serenity on his child’s face. Lamps from the pooja still flickered behind them, and in that moment he saw not contradiction but peace.
He didn’t comment dramatically.
He simply stepped aside and said gently,
“Come inside.”
The acceptance was understated — and therefore reassuring.
The Next Day
The mehendi was dark and impossible to hide. Rather than risk awkward explanations at school, he stayed home.
He spent the day mostly relaxed, the previous night replaying in his mind — not as tension, but as a memory of being trusted in a wider circle.
Sunday — Friends Visit
When his friends came over Sunday, they expected to see Vijaya again.
Instead they found Vijay in normal clothes — but with intricate mehendi still visible.
They burst into laughter and amazement.
“You actually went!”
They insisted he recreate the look for them.
He resisted briefly, then gave in. As the Dress was soiled, He wore the frock they had once gifted and light makeup while they excitedly compared the faded and fresh patterns on his hands.
The atmosphere wasn’t theatrical.
It felt like friends revisiting a shared milestone — proof that something once private had stepped into the world and returned safely.
What This Event Changed
This was the first time Vijay realized:
His fear of the outside world was larger than reality — at least in small, compassionate spaces.
The experience didn’t erase caution, but it replaced dread with measured confidence.
He now understood: Vijaya wasn’t only a memory or a secret.
She could exist briefly in the real world — when surrounded by kindness.

I’ll continue this as a coming-of-age social episode — focusing on awkward teenage excitement, curiosity, embarrassment, loyalty, and the delicate line between play and identity. The tone will stay gentle and character-driven rather than sensational.
The Wardrobe Problem
After the pooja evening, reality showed itself in small ways.
The old frock — once perfect — now kept riding up whenever he sat. He kept pulling it down unconsciously. His mother noticed. So did his father.
The Punjabi dress still fit, but that was all he owned.
One evening, in front of his close friends, his parents did something unexpected.
They handed the girls money and said simply:
“Take Vijaya shopping. Buy what she actually needs.”
The girls stared in disbelief — then erupted into excitement.
Vijay, however, froze.
Shopping inside the house was one thing.
Going outside — in public — was another.
He refused at first. But the group didn’t push loudly; they reasoned gently. They promised to stay together, to keep it normal, to treat it like any other outing among friends.
Eventually, nervous curiosity won over fear.
First Steps Into the Mall
The mall felt enormous.
Every step echoed in his head louder than outside sounds. He kept expecting people to stare — but most were busy with their own lives. The girls walked naturally, talking about colors and sales, forcing him to match their pace so he wouldn’t overthink.
Gradually his shoulders loosened.
They began choosing outfits — not costumes, but practical clothing.
They explained comfort, combinations, and occasion:
Daily wear vs festival wear
Loose vs fitted cuts
Fabrics for summer heat
Colors that suited his complexion
Soon he wasn’t just following; he was choosing too.
One kurti — simple, pastel — he selected himself. The girls approved instantly.
That approval mattered more than the purchase.
Trial Rooms
Trying clothes was the hardest part.
The first time he stepped out wearing a different outfit, he instinctively tried to cover himself with the dupatta. The girls laughed softly and adjusted it properly.
“Walk normally,” they told him.
He tried. Failed. Tried again.
By the fourth outfit, he stopped thinking about walking at all.
Confidence didn’t appear suddenly — it accumulated.
The Awkward Moment — Washroom
Then came the unavoidable problem.
He needed the restroom.
The excitement vanished instantly. Panic returned. This wasn’t something he had imagined beforehand.
His friends handled it practically — no drama, no teasing. They picked a quieter floor, waited outside, reassured him repeatedly that no one notices people as much as we fear.
He went in, head down, heart racing, came out a minute later.
Nothing had happened.
That ordinary nothingness became a huge relief.
For the rest of the evening, he breathed easier.
The Encounter
Near the food court, they ran into a group of senior boys from their school.
The girls recognized them first.
For a split second everyone froze — except the boys, who simply saw a group of girls.
Because Vijay kept such a low profile in school, they didn’t connect him.
One friend casually introduced:
“This is Vijaya — our friend.”
The conversation that followed was pure teenage awkwardness:
Boys trying to sound confident but stumbling over words
Girls teasing them immediately
Quick jokes about exams and teachers
Someone offering cold drinks just to continue talking
One of the boys attempted polite compliments — overly formal, clearly rehearsed. The girls laughed at him. Even Vijay smiled, the tension dissolving into shared embarrassment rather than fear.
No one suspected.
Not because the disguise was perfect — but because nobody was looking for it.
Teenagers mostly look at themselves.
The Ride Back
On the way home, the group replayed everything — mimicking the boys’ awkward lines, laughing at their own nervousness, exaggerating reactions.
Vijay laughed hardest.
Not at them — but at the realization that the world hadn’t collapsed.
He hadn’t been exposed.
He hadn’t been ridiculed.
He had simply existed in a public space among friends.

What This Changed
That outing marked a transition:
Before — Vijaya belonged only to home and safe circles.
After — she could step briefly into ordinary life.
It didn’t remove his caution. Instead it gave him calibration — understanding which fears were imagined and which were real.
He returned home carrying shopping bags, but more importantly, carrying a new confidence:
The outside world wasn’t automatically hostile.
Sometimes, it was simply unaware.
And that subtle distinction would later shape how carefully — yet persistently — he kept this part of himself alive through adolescence.

From then on, the instances of Vijay becoming Vijaya became more frequent. Now that he had all the clothes and accessories required, he could not resist whenever situation demanded like Going out shopping with mom, a calm festival at home where his father requested Vijaya's presence. A small outing with friends etc.

One of his friends invited him to come as Vijaya to her Birthday Party. This time He had no second thoughts about it. It was just like he was waiting for the opportunity. He wore a kurti and jeans which hugged his slight curves. An year passed like this. Now he was in his 10th standard. Gradually, he started spending as Vijaya more in his home. Inspired by his friends, he started using hair removal creams. His hair grew longer enough to hide his ears as a boy. So he went for ear piercing purely because of peer pressure. His mom liked it and gifted her Jhumkas and made him wear them daily at home. Normally his father would have been worried that his son was becoming a girl. But things were so gradual that everyone accepted it as evolution. His father only worried about his studies.

One day day when he got ready as Vijaya to accompany her to the market, his neighbour aunty came to their home and asked where the mother and daughter were going. When they told her that they were going to nearby market, she came along themselves saying that her husband doesn't allow her to go alone. His mom calmy replied saying all men were like that that's why she is taking her daughter. They all laughed and went to market.

In the market, Vijay was naturally selecting some Bindis and bangles. The neighbour aunty took Vijay's mother aside and spoke to her for sometime. Vijay did not notice that. Normally he never goes alone in Vijaya attire anywhere. But now he was forced to interact with total strangers as a girl all by himself. All these years he has been practicing to lower his tone and speak like a girl (thanks to his friends training). Though he was afraid, he managed well with the shopkeepers. Infact ended up bargaining a good deal all by herself.

He searched for his mom and when he found them, he was relaxed. He went to them and asked why they left him alone. His aunty said "Beti we were never far. We were just selecting something and always had an eye on you. We saw you bargaining with shopkeeper as well. Good going Girl." Whilst among women, Vijay totally forgot himself and left ved the life of Vijaya completely. "What were you shopping for Leaving me behind?" Asked Vijay. Vijay was so convincing as Vijaya that the aunty forgot he was a boy and said. "Tomorrow is our anniversary. I wanted to give my husband a surprise. Thus I was searching for nice lingerie. I found this nice design. But it's not in my size. I'm asking your mom to purchase it for herself. But she is not accepting". "Mom this looks so good. You will look wonderful in it. Feels comfy as well. Why don't you take it? How much it is? I will bargain if it is too much." Said Vijay. Vijay was innocent in his response. He just got carried away. He was accustomed to discuss these things with his friends. No topic was bar in their friendship.

Mom- "No beti... I'm neither in that age nor in that shape to wear them. (She paused for a second thinking 'what am i doing talking to my son about my shape'. But soon realized it was not longer Vijay in front of her and that it was a full and complete Vijaya atleast mentally.... Then continued) Your aunty is young. She can wear such things. All we need to do is find something in her size.
Aunty- Come let's go to one more shop.
Mom- No yaar I have to go and cook.
Aunty- Then please send Vijji (short for Vijaya) with me. We won't be too late. I'm sure she is good at studies.
Mom- ok. But Vijji, as you are not going there help me in cooking, you have to do the utensils all by yourself.
Vijay - ok maa.

Vijay and his neighbour aunty went to the nest shop while his mom went back home. The shop was full with ladies only. There the aunty saw in Vijay's eyes that he was admiring the lingerie like a true teenage girl. Like everyone else in the shop, he too was holding the Bras onto his chest and was seeing how it would be for him. She saw that he held many bras to his chest and put them back down. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes when the sales girl said "you are too thin for these. You should eat well and excercise well to grow your boobs better. Till then use these heavily padded bras. Your dresses and blises will not look good otherwise. We also have some shapewear with thigh padding for girls like you. Wanna try?"

Vijay- we are not here for my shopping. It's my aunt's anniversary tomorrow. We need something for her.
It was inappropriate for a 15yr old girl to talk like that. Everyone near them got surprised. One lady said "Girls these days are becoming fast". Aunty diverted the topic and asked Vijay to come along with her to trial room.

Vijay - Aunty what are you doing? Why should I come to the trial room with you?
Aunty - (Pinched him lightly and forced him to come inside). If I don't tag you along the ladies outside might have schooled you. Leave it. Please unhook the blouse from behind.
Vijay - But aunty... I'm a boy...!
Aunty- Oh you remember that? We all have long forgotten... Do it fast.
Vijay- (while unhooking) But aunty... It's not correct.
Aunty - (opening her blouse and bra, keeping her back towards Vijay. She noticed in mirror that vijay closed his eyes) Look Vijji. It's common for us women to be naked infront of each other. During pregnancies, we show our private parts to lady doctors and nurses for checkups regularly. We woman don't have any inhibitions while being amongst ourselves.
Vijay- But I'm a boy aunty.
Aunty- Forget it. I will treat you as a boy when I see you as a boy. Can you dare go out and say it aloud that you are a boy now? (Seeing Vijay nodding a no) Then why think about yourselves as a boy now? Be honest and truthful to yourself first. I'm saying all this because you are entering adulthood in a couple of years. You should not be lost in the way. I care for you. That's why I'm telling these. Normally parents will not be able to discuss such things with their children. Boys or Girls.
Vijay- okay aunty. Understood.
Aunty - what?
Vijay - I will think of myself as Vijaya when I'm like this. And like Vijay when I'm like that.
Aunty - Good my dear. That's the best way to go forward untill you decide who you want to be permanently. Please feel free to talk about anything with me in future. Now open your eyes and tell me how I look.
Vijay- (Seeing her in only her Bra and Panty. Coincidentally, she was wearing same colour panty that day. And because they won't allow trials for Panties, she tried only the bra. But she removed her dress completely because she wanted to know how she will look in that) Wwwooowwwww.....! You look amazing aunty. Just like the heroines in the movies.
Aunty - Thanks. Now let me try this one.

Saying that she removed her bra openly facing towards him and started wearing the other one just as if it was normal. Vijay also did not close his eyes this time. There was no awkwardness between them. He did not feel any arousal. Infact he just envied her full grown breasts like any other girl his age would. Later aunty selected the first one made him wait in the trial room while she dresses properly and went out and brought those shapewear and heavily padded bra for him to try. Vijay said no. But she insisted and told him that she will give him his privacy and wait outside till he wears them both fully. After a few attempts he learnt how to tuck his manhood properly and wear it. When aunty saw him, she said it suits his age perfectly. She bought them despite him objecting it.

When he went home his mom asked him what was there in the covers he was carrying. Vijay said "Aunty forced me to buy some shapewear and Bras. Despite objecting, she paid for them and handed over the cover to me." Mom opened the covers and said "How thoughtful of her. Vijaya needs to grow proportionately with her age."

His father's business started to improve more and more as his appearance as Vijaya at home increased. This made his father resolve that Vijaya was indeed the Lakshmi of his house. He gift him a delicate gold chain and silver anklets and opted calling him Vijaya even when he was in his boy clothes. His mother also followed her husband. He wore that chain and anklets daily even when he was in boy clothes. His thick school socks covered his anklets well and went unnoticed. He got used to being called Vijaya so often that in his school when some teacher or any other classmates called him Vijay, he did not think they were talking to him.

His visits to beauty parlour increased. He now chose to grown his nails against school rules for boys. Though his teachers scolded him and boys in class ridiculed him, he no longer cared. Eventually all girls and boys in his class started talking about him and his increasingly feminine appearance. Many forced his close friends to tell his secrets. But they did not reveal anything. One of the girls advised him to be more manly to avoid being caught.

But on an another close friend's birthday party, he accidentally used his Mom's long lasting lipstick and used matching nail polish. The party happened till late night. His father was worried and scolded him and told him it's not safe to be out all alone till late night. When he reached home after party, he just changed back to his night wear without removing makeup as he was too tired. Next morning he found that his lipstick was not going. And that the nailpolish remover was exhausted in his home. That day he went to school with a N95 Mask and sat in the last bench. He told teachers that he was not well. He mostly held his hands in a fist so that his nailpolish was not visible. It was very difficult for him that day. He lost a lot of time in the morning trying to remove the lipstick and totally forgot about Mascara he applied on his eyelashes. He and his friends tried a lot to hide his secret.

But despite his efforts his teachers noticed and called him to the principal's room. Principal asked him to remove mask and talk. While removing mask he identified that vijay was wearing nailpolish aswell. He demanded a written explanation for this appearance or call his parents tomorrow. Vijay left crying. His friends came to his rescue and told principal that it was their fault. They all confessed saying that they forced him to wear girls dress and makeup for birthday party. They pleaded the principal and teachers not to disclose it to Thei r classmates. The teachers understood the situation and because all these were good at studies, they let them go. But the principal asked him to get his parents to meet him the next day.

That evening, his parents learnt what happened at school. They both went to school next day and thanked his friends first. They meet the principal and tell him that they don't want to force anything on their child. They want him to explore his own path . They also told him that he is too young to understand sexuality and that they will be with him in whichever path he chooses. They understood the problem of the school aswell. They promised the principal that such things will not happen again. They sought help from school to protect their child from any sort of bullying or abuse at school. Principal accepts the proposal and initiates a medical test for the child which confirms that biologically he is a complete male. Thus he goes through the school without any problem till he passes his 12th standard. He no longer needed any more friends. He no longer needed anybody's approval or acceptance as everyone important in his life have accepted him the way he is. He and his friends joined in integrated BBA+MBA program where their bonds increased. Vijay learns to hide his female persona. He maintains long hair but in manly fashion to college and girly fashion when he becomes Vijaya in Home or his friends.

He was invited to a girls sleepover by his friends in the holidays after 12th. His mother did not allow him. His friends also pleaded his mom. She said she needed time to think. He was upset with this and discussed with his neighbour aunty. She comforted him and said she will handle. Next day, when Vijay was watching a movie, his aunty came and went into the kitchen. She spoke to his mom for almost an hour and left. Later that afternoon, his mom called him into her bedroom. She wanted him to wear a saree. He readily accepted it without even asking why. He was so happy as if he was waiting for that day from many years. She helped him wear it perfectly and said he must wear only sarees for the next one week. Only then he will be allowed to go for sleepovers with friends. He did not question her logic. All he wanted was to be with his friends. So he accepted it. That night when his dad came home, he was pleasantly surprised. He was almost in his tears. When Vijay and his mom asked him why he was crying. He said "It suddenly flashed that one day I will have to marry off my daughter to a suitable groom and that she will go away with him".

Vijay - Dad...., forget it. I'm not going to go away. I will be with you forever.

His mom thought he was telling that he is a boy and he will marry a girl and get her to their home. But infact vijay's mind got trained so perfectly that he did not see himself as a boy now. He continued....

Vijay - I will marry only that person who will agree to stay with us.

Dad - Okay beti, we will find a groom who will stay with us.
Mom - Why are you saying like that. He will marry a bride.

Vijay - Blushing.... Enough Maa & Paa... I'm not marrying anyone now. Let's go eat. Dad, by the way how do I look in mom's Saree?

Dad - you look just like my mom. I loved her a lot. I miss her.

Vijay- okay Dad... From now on, for a week, you will have your mom in our house. You can call me Maa

Dad - Thanks Maa.

Vijay - Bahu rani...., what are you doing? My son has arrived. Go on and bring the food while he gets fresh.

Mom - Okay Sasu Maa...

All laughed and enjoyed the dinner. His mom made him sleep with him that night. First Vijay changed into his night wear and sat on the bed reading something. Later his mom came and started removing her saree. She expected her son to react and offer to go out atleast. But Vijay just smiled at her and continued reading. She removed her saree and blouse. She was only in her bra and petticoat. She observed that Vijay did not care.

Mom- Vijji, come here and rub this body lotion on my back.
Vijay - okay Maa.

Vijay was just reacting as if he was really her daughter. She slowly unhooked her bra and held it covering her breasts. He did not even flinch. He continued rubbing the lotion. She could sense no awkwardness or strangeness in his touch. She understood he was not thinking of himself as a boy now. So she wanted to talk to him...

Mom - Vijay...
No response....
Mom - Vijji...
Vijay- Yes Maa.
Mom- Why you did not answer when I called you first time?
Vijay - You called me only once na maa...
Mom - No... You responded only when I called you the second time.
Vijay - No maa... I answered you the moment you called me Vijji. I noticed that you called Vijay first. He did not respond as he is not there here.
Mom- i want to talk to Vijay
Vijay - Okay maa. I will go out and send him. Better wear some clothes.
Mom- No need. stay here. I want to talk to you.
Vijay - Go on maa... I'm listening... But please pass on that lotion bottle
Mom - Where is Vijay?
Vijay - He is sleeping inside me. He will wake up if I sleep.
Mom - Why are you talking like this?
Vijay - What happened maa?
Mom - You are behaving like a person with split personality disorder. Like they show in movies.

Vijay - Okay maa... I understood. Don't be afraid. I knew you were testing me. Otherwise you will never remove your clothes in front of me. I know aunty spoke to you something for very long time today. Aunty made me realise that I can be both Male and Female. But not at a time. If I'm dressed like This, I'm your daughter. If I'm dressed like that I will be your son. No confusion in this. I am a perfect male who enjoys being a woman as well. All my life, you, dad and my friends helped me with attaining this level of understanding. I do not see genders when I see people. I see a human in a certain dress. I see the soul within. I know you are afraid to send me to the girls sleepover. But please understand it's not a GIRLS sleepover. It's a FRIENDS sleepover. My friends see me as Vijaya when I am dressed like Vijaya. They see me as Vijaya when I am dressed a s Vijay. Clothes don't define me. For me, Either Vijay or Vijaya, I'm the same person. For others, I show only one gender at a time. I do not mix and confuse them unless I'm pranking them.

Mom - But Vijay... Sorry Vijji..., what about the future? The society ? Your life? Your marriage? Kids?

Vijay - Too many questions maa... Let me live one day at a time. God willing, I will get a wife who can understand me thoroughly.

Mom - You are just 20 yr old. How did you get this much understanding? It's unusual. Many boys I know are clueless even after 30 yrs.

Vijay - Chill maa... Enjoy the present. You need anything more from your daughter?

Mom - No... I'm convinced that My child is perfect human being. I'm proud of you. Now wait till I get dressed and then go out and send your dad. You may sleep in your room.

Next Day after morning routine...

Dad - Vijaya...

Vijay - Yes Daddy.

Dad - Your Mom told me about your last night's conversation. I want to talk ... Man to Man...

Vijay - Are you comfortable speaking to your Son in Saree? Mom asked me to wear sarees only.

Dad - Never mind. I was told you have adapted to both perfectly. You do not see gender.

Vijay - Yes Daddy.

Dad - Then come sit. I want to know what you know about Gender.

Vijay - Gender is a biological type of a species Daddy. It could either be Male, Female or in some cases Both.

Dad - What is your Gender?

Vijay - Male Daddy.

Dad - What is the roles of a Males and Females?

Vijay - Males and females have same role of protecting their species and procreating.

Dad - Tell me separately.

Vijay - There is no difference as such in the larger roles daddy. But there is a biological difference that Males insert their DNA into the DNA of the females. Females accept the DNA and let the natural process complete in their bodies where in a new offspring of the species is formed. After the offspring is born, they both have equal responsibilities. Initially the females lactate to feed the baby as a natural process.

Dad- You mean to say the role of females is more?

Vijay - Yes Daddy. The woman have greater role in this natural process. Hence the society, over the centuries, got built in such a way that Man Provides and Woman Nurtures. That is the main reason I adore womanhood. I respect and worship womanhood. I consider them as slightly above men. Hence I like being Vijaya.

Dad - If there is a choice you have to make, what will you be permanently? Vijay or Vijaya?
Vijay - I am Born as Vijay. Im studying as Vijay. So I'm sure I will be working as Vijay as well. I don't want to fail at that job. But at the same time, I have developed this personna of Vijaya as well. My family and friends like being with Vijaya more. So naturally I like being Vijaya More.

Dad - But what about your future? Your marriage? Will anyone of your friends marry you?
Vijay - I don't want to marry any of my friends Daddy. I believe in god. I leave it to him. I'm sure he will send someone i truly deserve. And he made me adaptible. So I will adapt to whatever person I marry to. As I'm a genetic male, it will obviously be a genetic female. But, mentally, I would love the person to be as flexible as me.

Dad - Which girl will accept you like this? May be it is our fault as well. We should not have encouraged you like this. Your life will be ruined if you don't stop being Vijaya. Don't think about us... Think about you.
Vijay - No Daddy, I consider Vijaya as an upgrade to Vijay. So no going back. Let me try my luck and believe in god. Ins u're he will send someone who fully understands me.

Dad - I have no words. You are too intelligent for me to convince you. I too leave it to God.

Author's Note:

I will continue after feedback from atleast 10 readers. Am i asking too much?