My name is Simran, I am 21 and I am in my last year of graduation at Mumbai’s St. Xavier’s College. The story begins one day, when I collected the courage to take my boyfriend and classmate Simba to my home. I lived with my parents, so Simba thought it was not a great idea to take him home so soon. But I had decided and like always Simba couldn’t do anything but surrender to my wish. So I asked him to leave his bike in college itself and I took out my Scooty. He hopped on and we started riding towards my home. Simba didn’t say a word all the way long. He was probably scared, and was wondering how would he face my parents, when I introduce him as my boyfriend, as he knew I come from a very conservative family. About 200 yards before, I stopped my Scooty and asked Simba to get down and sit with both his legs on one side. He was embarrassed with my request but finally agreed. When we reached, I saw that my parents were standing in the balcony. Simba almost jumped off with embarrassment, with the way he was sitting on the scooty. Dad opened the door and we entered the living room. I could see lots of questions in their eyes. Before they could ask, I started. “Mom, this Simba. He is my classmate. As you know we have our exams beginning this Monday, so he has come along to help me with a couple of subjects. And if you don’t mind, he will be living with us for the weekend.” Dad wasn’t happy to know this and just went inside to sleep without saying something. Mom smiled at Simba, although it was fake, but she did. I gestured Simba to make himself comfortable, while mom pulled me to the kitchen by my arm. “Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking Simran? You think we are idiots? Can’t we see he is more than a classmate? Your dad’s not going to forgive you for this.” She was going to continue, but I jumped in. “Mom, he is not my boyfriend. Didn’t you see the way he was sitting on my Scooty? Only girls sit like that on a two wheeler.” I saw my mom was getting there. Her jaw dropped and she closed her mouth in “hawww”. “Is he?” “Is he?” Mom couldn’t say the word. She was so shocked! But I completed her sentence for her. “Yes, he is gay. He is not my boyfriend. Because, he can’t be my boyfriend. Because, he already has a boyfriend.” The last line just pulled the floor from underneath her feet. She was about to faint, when I shook her and asked her to calm down or Simba would hear us. Mom took a gulp of water and pushed me outside to be with Simba while she gets us dinner. At the table, mom couldn’t control staring at Simba. It was like, she was now looking for more proofs to support what I told her. Simba didn’t realise it, but his being extra polite was only feeding mom’s doubts. After the dinner, when I was preparing the guest room for Simba, mom came and surprised me by what she said. “If you guys are going to study for a while before you sleep, Simi can actually sleep in your room only.” Yes, to make things difficult for Simba, I had actually called him Simi in front of my mom. Simi is his pet name which I only gave him. But because of the feminine tone of the name, mom was now beginning to believe me even more. Anyway, we went to my room. And got busy in studying. While, my mom kept checking on us every now and then. Maybe, she still wanted to be more sure. Around 2:30 in the night, we had started yawning. So we decided to call it night. But then mom did something, which even I couldn’t imagine her doing. She brought a pile of clothes and a towel. Kept them in my bathroom. And said while leaving the room. “I can see that your friend Simi had not come prepared to stay for the weekend. And it was your sudden contribution. So I have kept some change for Simi in the bathroom. Whenever you guys are calling it, night.” She left the room. Simba smiled at mom’s gesture thinking she is more accepting than he thought she could be. He got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up. He dumped his dirty clothes in a laundry bucket kept at the bathroom entrance and took a shower. But soon he opened the door a little and almost shouted. “What the hell did you tell your mom about me?” I asked him to keep his tone low and walked up to him to find out what’s wrong. He just handed me the same pile of clothes mom had kept for him to change into. The moment I held them, I knew what was wrong. They were my clothes. My PJ set. A purple satin pajama and a matching shirt top with lace around the collar and cuffs of the long sleeves. “Relax! You can wear your own clothes.” But I knew he couldn’t as just after he entered and dumped his clothes in the bucket outside, mom had shown up for a second and took the bucket away. Simba had a big question on his face. “Simi sweety, I am afraid you can’t wear your own clothes. Because mom just took them away for washing. Unless I can go and disturb dad and ask for a pair of his shorts. But I can’t do that too. You saw he is obese. His clothes can accommodate two like you.” Simba still had that question on his face. I continued. “Will you be a darling and wear these for the night? While I will go and personally make sure that mom has run the machine with your clothes. So they are also dry by the time we wake up. You can then change back in the room only and nobody except us would know what happened.” After a lot of persuading, he agreed. The night after that was a mix of emotions. Simba was clearly awkward at first. But seeing him in satin did something to me. We both lost our virginity that night before we dozed off. I did everything that night to make him feel that he was the girl. I kept calling him by girly pronouns. And while I knew mom had bought my reasoning, dad was yet to be won over. So after we made out, I even convinced Simba in one of those cuddling moments to let me paint at least one hand of his. When he offered his left hand, I asked for the right. I knew he will try and might be able to hide the left hand by keeping it in pocket or something but since he was right-handed, he will have to use it often, to write, to eat, to hold something… So soon all the five fingers of his right hand were painted in the brightest purple I had. And thereafter, I kept cuddling him tight so we fall asleep early and he doesn’t get time to ask me for the remover. In the morning, as promised, I got him his own clothes. We got ready and came out of the room to join mom dad for breakfast. I had specifically asked mom not to serve him food and let him do it himself. So the moment he took the serving spoon with his right hand, mom and dad could clearly see his nail paint. I could see mom suppressing her smile and dad got so confused that he couldn’t say anything at all. He looked at me instead and I winked at him. In my heart I was saying that “What you are thinking is right, dad. He is not here for your daughter. He is here as your daughter’s girlfriend.” Dad also smiled now and I could see from his body language that he was now relaxed. But that was not over yet. Because when Simba got up to put his plate in the kitchen sink, we all could see he was wearing my slippers. The same purple slippers that dad had got me. The top of the slippers had shiny satin finish and the word cat walk was distributed on both the feet as “cat” and “walk”. In the kitchen, being a bachelor staying alone, Simba started doing the dishes out of habit. Mom followed the noise and when he insisted her to let him do it, she got him an apron. And before he could say something, he was wearing it. Mom stood there next to him. Adoring this girly boy who she first thought was her girl’s boyfriend but was now himself dressed in a frilly satin apron, wearing her daughter’s slippers and nail paint doing the dishes. Something even her daughter hadn’t done for her in a while. In her heart, she was probably wishing that she could bring him home permanently, even if as her son-in-law but dressed up as her daughter. Mom just couldn’t control her emotions and suddenly took off the bindi from her forehead and put it on Simba’s. He jumped back but mom just pulled him closer and kissed him on the forehead. She left the kitchen and I ran in to make sure Simba is OK. I could see that he might just lose control and try to run away. So I quickly took off his apron and bindi and took him to my room and gave him the books to distract him from what happened. After a few hours of study, when we took a break and were watching some TV to relax, mom was doing my hair. Just when she was done with me, she offered to do Simi’s hair too. Before Simba could just shake it off and say no, mom was already at it. First some vigorous combing, the oil massage, then again combing and then tying up. Only when mom was doing Simi’s hair, we realized that his hair were not short either. Mom gave him a similar center partition and made a small braid. The moment Simba looked at his hair in the mirror, he just turned around giving me and mom that “not again” look. But mom was not going to melt. She made it even worse. She got up, walked towards Simi, took off her own dupatta and placed it on Simi’s shoulders. Simba cried and we knew that Simi was finding it hard to come out. Mom looked decisive and was not going to back out now. “Look dear, your uncle is not here. He has gone out of town for a couple of days. Now, as far as I am concerned, I know all about you. Simran told me everything. I should have understood myself when I saw you sitting on her scooty with both legs on one side.” Simba tried to clear her doubts, while looking at me in an angry way. But mom won’t let him be. She again took out a bindi and now placed on his forehead. And then she suddenly opened the cupboard like a thought struck her. She took out a salwar kameez and asked me to help Simba wear it. Now that just threw Simba off the cliff. He intervened. “Aunty, I think there’s a confusion.” But mom was so convinced with my story by now that, she almost ignored his plea. “Beta (Son), I know everything. You don’t have to be shy in front of me. Now I understand if you haven’t worn anything like this before. But Simran is here to help you. If you want, I can stay as well. You see, all those fancy hairstyles Simran wears, are made by me. So if you allow me, I assure you, you will turn out to be cuter than you can imagine.” Simba was looking for pauses in her speech, to be able to say something but mom was too excited, perhaps, to see Simba dressed like Simi. So when he was not taking the clothes, mom just put everything on his shoulder, kissed his forehead and left the room while looking at me and saying, “Do your best on Simi. And you also get ready quickly and properly. I want both my daughters to look their best for dinner.” She left and she actually locked the room from outside. “Knock when you are both completely dolled up.” I suddenly saw Simba almost looking for a way to escape. A window or whatever he finds. He was angry and was not even looking at me. That’s when I had to try the emotion weapon. “OK, fine. I will call mom and ask her to open it. Or let me just dial her on her cellphone, I will put the phone on speaker and you can tell her whatever you want. Tell her it was my doing. Tell her your truth. Tell her the truth about us. You know how conservative my parents are. Now imagine when they know your reality after you slept with their daughter, how will they react. We are not going to meet ever again. Consider my education over and our relationship too. I just thought that by staying with us, you will get to know them and they will get to know you. So they can know that their daughter’s choice is good. It’s just that when we were approaching home last night, I somehow lost my calm and I panicked and asked you to do whatever I could come up with at that moment. And things kept on happening and here we are. I didn’t know mom will take it so far. But it’s fine. I did wrong. And you should not suffer because of that. Even if it is just about wearing some female clothes for an hour or so. I will get the door opened.” That’s when Simba turned and ran towards me. He hugged me so tight that, it was clear he didn’t want to lose me ever. I know I being evil because his emotions were pure and mine were only partially about love and partially about the fun that came along with this situation. So I just whispered in his ears. “Is that a yes, sweety?” I could feel his eyes were wet as my shoulder was a little damp with tears. He just nodded while still hugging me. I whispered again. “So, will you be Simi like me for a while?” He again nodded. “Will you wear that salwar kameez?” I poked further. This time, he pulled himself back and with his chin down just murmured. “Yes.” I didn’t waste a minute. Soon, Simba’s face was turned into Simi’s. His eyes were made prominent with strong strokes of liner and heavy eyeshadow in light blue and pink. His eyebrows were trimmed to be arched just a little. He already had a very petite nose. I wanted him to have a nose ring but then I took a crystal like shining bindi and placed it on the left side of his nose. The forehead sported a big round pink bindi, with shiny little studs on the circumference. The lips got three, one after the other, thick coats of deep pink lipstick. Since I myself was yet to get ready, I didn’t scare Simba with a nail paint. Just a little filing and a clear varnish to make all his 10 fingers look neater. While I spared his legs because of the salwar, I waxed his arms for it was a half-sleeve kameez. I shaved his face as close as possible. I waxed his chest as well, though he first revolted but agreed as soon as I got into the emotional mode again. Soon, Simi was ready in an all pink salwar kameez, open toed golden strap sandals with a 2” heels. A heavy golden necklace, lots of matching and heavy gold bangles and clip-on golden jhumkas. I wish his ears were pierced. I just put a small pink flower in his already braided hair. The skin-coloured socks in the bra did create some cleavage for Simi and when I rearranged the dupatta sideways by pinning it on the edge of his shoulder, the first thing Simba did as Simi surprised me and delighted me in the same breath. Aware of his artificial cleavage, he quickly adjusted the dupatta to cover it a little. I couldn’t control but giggle. Now Simi practised to walk a little in heels and how to sit without messing the hem of the kameez or the dupatta as taught by me, inside the room only. And while she did so, I took my time to get ready. I purposely chose a pink salwar kameez too. Just that mine had a little gold-wire embroidery on it and the neck was a little more plunging. Simi’s suit, on the other hand, had a very deep back and there was a criss-cross string between both the ends. Soon we were both ready and I knocked the door a couple of times for mom to know. I teasingly asked Simi to get up. “Chalein didi?” (Shall we go, elder sister?) The door was opened but it wasn’t mom to our surprise. It was my cousin sister Ruby, who I actually forgot was coming to stay with us till my exams are over. Ruby di was a typical Indian girl. Born with a body too sexy for not wearing a saree every day. And so she did. About to get married in few months from now, she was here and looking gorgeous in her light blue chiffon saree. She had her navel pierced and her blouse was also sleeveless with just thin straps hugging the shoulders. Lots of matching glass bangles in her hands. So Ruby di hugged me the moment she opened the door. And then without a notice, she hugged Simi too. “Aur yeh tumhari saheli Simi hai, right?” (And this must be your girlfriend Simi, right?) This time, Simi replied for herself. “Yes, didi. How did you recognize me?” Ruby di just winked in reply. Before we knew, mom was there too. She was ready as well. But for what? Mom read the question in our eyes and that’s when she hung a soft pink purse with a long strap on Simi’s shoulder and said, “You keep forgetting, sweetheart. It’s Kamini aunty’s daughter’s mehndi and sangeet night (a women’s only musical night before the wedding). Why do you think I asked both you girls to be ready by dinner? Now, come on, we are already late.” Mom pushed us all towards the exit and switched off the lights. When mom started the car, she shifted another gear towards Simba’s feminization. “We are late. The ladies there are waiting for all four of us. They said we will be the only ones yet to get mehndi by the time we reach. And who knows you three girls might be spotted by your future mother-in-laws.”© Christi James
