My Whispers : A Journey of Self-Discovery"

Dual life

For years, I had been living with this secret indulgence, a world that I had crafted for myself in the quiet privacy of my home. Through my school years, especially during high school, I balanced my life carefully—on the surface, I was the quiet, studious boy my family and teachers expected me to be, but beneath it all, I carried this hidden part of myself. Whenever I was alone, I would slip into that other world, where the feel of sarees, bangles, and soft fabrics against my skin made me feel alive, connected to something deep and personal. It was a world I couldn’t share with anyone.

By the time I completed my 12th grade, my secret had grown even more precious to me. The feelings, the urges—they never left, even if I tried to suppress them at times. Every time I saw a beautiful woman, whether it was a classmate, a teacher, or a stranger on the street, something stirred inside me. My eyes were always drawn to their clothes, the way their sarees hugged their bodies, the soft jingle of their bangles, the way their hair cascaded down their backs. I would catch myself wondering how I would look in their place—how the fabric would feel against my skin, how the bangles would sound as I moved. But I had gotten good at hiding it. No one ever suspected a thing.

When I moved to a metro city to join college, the change was overwhelming at first. I had left the small town where I had grown up, with its slower pace and familiar faces. The city was bustling, full of new experiences, new people. It was exciting, but it also heightened the sense of longing that had always been simmering inside me. Everywhere I went, I saw women dressed in ways that fascinated me—modern outfits, chic sarees, beautiful accessories—and each sight triggered that familiar, deep yearning to step into their shoes, even if just for a moment.

In college, I had to keep my guard up more than ever. With new friends and classmates, I couldn’t afford to let anything slip. I built a personality that was perfectly balanced—friendly enough, but reserved. I focused on my studies, made friends, and acted the way everyone expected a young man to behave. No one doubted me. No one could have imagined the secret world I carried within me. But the feelings were always there, just beneath the surface, waiting to burst out.

Whenever I passed by a girl on campus, dressed in a flowing kurta or a saree for a special event, my mind would wander. I imagined myself in her place, feeling the swish of the fabric against my legs, the weight of the dupatta on my shoulder, the jingling of bangles on my wrists. I even started noticing the subtle details more—the way they wore their hair, the shimmer of their earrings, the soft rustle of their clothes as they walked. I longed to experience it all, to live in that world, but I knew it wasn’t something I could act on, at least not openly.

Despite these strong feelings, I had to continue maintaining the image of a typical college student. I was careful not to let anyone get too close, afraid that they might sense something was different about me. I kept my secret life hidden, indulging only when I was completely alone. The city offered more anonymity than my small town, but it also meant that I had to be even more careful. I couldn’t risk being found out.

Still, the longing never went away. Every night, in the privacy of my small apartment, I would close the door, lock it, and slip back into that world that had brought me so much comfort over the years. I had managed to bring a few items with me—some bangles, a soft scarf, and a pair of panties I had hidden in my suitcase. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind me of who I was underneath the persona I had built for the outside world.

Those private moments were the only times I felt truly free, when I could embrace the feelings I had kept buried for so long. I would slip into the panties, run my fingers over the soft fabric, and imagine what it would feel like to live as the girl I had always dreamed of being. The bangles would slide onto my wrists, their familiar jingle soothing me, bringing me back to that place of comfort. Even though I didn’t have the sarees or dresses I used to wear, the feeling was still there—the sensation of becoming someone else, someone more aligned with the image in my mind.

But the dilemma remained. I didn’t know how long I could continue living like this—hiding a part of myself from the world while pretending to be someone else. The city, with all its excitement and new opportunities, had also intensified the conflict inside me. Could I ever let this side of me out? Would there ever be a way for me to reconcile the two parts of myself? Or would I always be forced to live this double life, indulging my desires in secret, while presenting a different face to the world?

The sweet agony of that question followed me every day. On the outside, I was just another college student, fitting in with my peers, attending classes, and making small talk. But on the inside, I was still the boy who longed for the softness of sarees, the jingle of bangles, the thrill of becoming someone else, if only for a little while.